Captain's Log, Day 1

Captain's Log, Day 1

I am no longer able to ignore the risks of continuing with our voyage. I have spent many days ashore speaking with the locals (curse their infernal accent, I am beginning to wonder if they have ever heard the Queen's English) and have only seen the situation worsening. I cannot put my crew at risk of infection any longer. This is especially true as some of my crew have the same ability to fight this disease as someone from New Eh-land has to not apologise. Besides, the more of my crew that are on land, the more chances there are for them to spread this pestilence and infect the people who are more susceptible.

My employers and the stakeholders of the HMS TP For All surely will not approve of my decision. There is much gold and spices in the holds of my ship which we had intended to trade for vegemite with the People of the Sausage Sizzle, and my decision to quarantine my crew will surely eliminate our chances of making a profit. However, as a great captain in my old regiment used to say, 'we don't trade lives'.

I have decided to keep this log of my activities for various reasons. One, of course, to maintain my sanity in these uncertain times. The other is that if we run out of kombucha I fear the crew may turn to cannibalism, and I would like for someone to know my fate. (I have already been informed that I would be the first to be eaten, due to the fact that I have the healthiest diet of us all. My crew has taken 'you are what you eat' to a whole new level.) 

And thus begins our self-isolation. We have gathered supplies and set sail to drift along the shores of the Land of the Sausage Sizzle, rowing ashore only at night to replenish our supplies of Pepsi and canine sustenance.  

I will, of course, miss the friends I have made in the Land of the Sausage Sizzle, but hope they can understand the duty I feel towards my fellow crew.