July 20, 1610

A few days ago we arrived at the banks of “Newfoundland,” and noticed that some native canoes were approaching our ship. They were friendly, and traded with us for some nice trinkets. They told me of mines where we could find gold, silver and copper. We stocked up on water, and fish and even cut down a tree to fix the Half Moon (our boat)’s mast.
Today on the other hand was a day I would call a disaster. I am slowly losing control of my crew. I feel like my son is even starting to betray me. Behind my back, my crew grew suspicions of these kind natives that gave us food and trinkets, and raided the Native’s from their homes with guns! I never gave any permission for them do this, and I am extremely upset. After all the help the natives gave us, it is absolutely evil and barbaric that my crew backstabbed them, and even worse, me.