August 3, 1492

I stand on the gently rocking deck, facing the east. The clear sky is still dark but beginning to brighten. The breeze is brisk but it's coming from the right direction and if it holds, I'll make good distance today.

Months of preparation are done and the ships are fully provisioned. The sailors are quietly occupied with final checks of the lines and sheets.

I watch as the fishing boats slip past and away in the half light, pursued by gulls hoping for an easy meal before the day is out.

I close my eyes for a moment and listen. The cries of the sea birds diminish into the distance. Closer at hand, the lines and boards creak in time with the low harbor swell. Everything sounds so perfect, so right.

De la Cosa breaks my reverie to let me know that everything is ready aboard all three ships.

The time to make some history has come. I give the order to cast off the lines.