My ship sails in the morning from the port of Lagos, Portugal.
I'm supervising my sailors as they lower crates into the cargo area, check the sails for tears and holes, and test the ropes.
India is our destination, by order of Prince Henry of Portugal, and we will be exploring seas we've never seen before.
My name is Edmundo Veloso. The year is 1434, and I have just been promoted to captain of the Terra Nova, a ship both fast and true.
I am full of curiosity and armed with tools that have served mariners for years and years and the latest charts.
This is the opportunity I've been working for.
I first set foot on a ship at age 12 when, without warning, my father took me to the docks and set me up as an apprentice on a ship.
I came from a big family, and my father could not afford to feed everyone.
So over the next twenty years, I learned everything about sailing.
I swabbed the decks and polished the brass.
I learned how to rig the sails, navigate, and steer the ship.
Climbing the rigging like a monkey to set the sails was more than a job for me; it was the most fun I ever had.
The crow's nest, high atop the highest mast, was my favorite place.
Although I was not enchanted with the sea as a child, I became enchanted as I grew up on it.
The reign of Prince Henry of Portugal is an exciting time to be a mariner.
Henry's goal is to find a sea route to India by heading south along the west coast of Africa.
A man of science, Prince Henry wants to find a faster route to trade for spices and precious metals from the East,
to spread Christianity, and perhaps even to discover new fishing grounds.
The port of Lagos is close to Prince Henry's villa,
where I had dinner a few nights ago and met cartographers, astrologers, navigators, and other explorers.
It was an inspiring evening, and I came to understand Henry's plan—
to use scientific methods in exploration and publish our findings for the benefit of those who come after us.
Among the tools I use to navigate are the nocturnal, the astrolabe, and the mariner's compass.
The nocturnal allows me to determine the time at night.
I locate the Big Dipper, stars in an easy-to-see constellation.
Two of its stars line up and point to the North Star—that's why they're called pointer stars.
I line up the hole in the center of my nocturnal with the North Star.
Then I swing the long arm of the nocturnal until it lines up with the Big Dipper's pointer stars and read the time!
With the astrolabe I find my position by measuring how high the noon sun is over the horizon.
From that measurement I can determine latitude—how far north or south our ship is from the equator.
My mariner's compass has a magnetized needle that points north, which also helps me determine my position—along with my sea charts of course.
These charts have lines that have been drawn to show the direction of the winds, as well as descriptions of landmarks,
which I also use to figure out where I am.
I keep a record of the time I sail on each bearing (direction) on the compass.
With this method, my tools, and my years of experience, I navigate with certainty on the open seas.
Seven years ago I was the first mate on the ship that discovered the Azores Islands.
Having no land in sight was worrisome since we couldn't rely on our sea charts, but the results were well worth it—discovering a new land!
Tomorrow we will sail south along the African coast.
My ship, a caravel, carries different types of sails, which will allow us to maneuver easily and quickly in the wind.
Long, thin, and shallow, the caravel is exceptional for exploring the coasts.
It has taken time to assemble my crew of twenty, but they are ready.
Many of them are young men who remind me of myself at that age—full of excitement.
These young sailors are apprehensive, but their curiosity and sense of adventure overcome their fear.
The older men are experienced, and because of this, they know the sea is unforgiving.
They realize the weather can change in a moment.
One morning the sky can be blue and the sea calm.
But by noon a storm might arise, creating giant waves that can capsize any ship.
All my men are superstitious and fearful at times.
For instance, some believe the farther south one sails, the hotter the water becomes, because the sea gets colder as one sails northward.
They fear southern seas will boil them.
Others believe we will reach the edge of the earth and fall off, or that monsters lurk in the deep, just waiting for an unsuspecting ship.
Many who have families are not willing to take the risk of a long sea voyage.
I respect their fears because, in fact, I am not immune to them now that I have a family of my own.
But to me this trip is the climax of my career.
I tell the crew of my pride in being on the first ship to sight the Azores and how this trip will be just as memorable,
but in the end, I release anyone who is hesitant.
In uncharted waters I will need commitment not fear.
I will need collaboration not dissent. I will need boldness to face whatever we may have to face.
And so my crew is mostly young, with a few adventurous old sailors who will help me guide us to safe harbors.
We are poised at the beginning of a voyage of discovery. What will the outcome be?
Will we come back triumphant with charts of new shores to add to Prince Henry's fame, or will we never be heard from again?