There was something in this day, I know not what, but it made itself felt.

The Admiral, kneeling, kissed the soil, and he named the island Hispaniola, and we planted a cross.
For long we had been beaten about, and all aboard the ships were well willing to leave them for a little.

We had a dozen sick and they craved the shore and the fruit trees.

Our Indians, too, longed.

So we anchored, and mariners and all adventurers rested from the sea.