June 20th, around 4 a.m. : A Dutch guest

Later, Guus could hardly remember what happened. There were two things he did remember: 1, the heat, like he was sleeping in front of the fire place again like in their Prussian home. 2, the shouts. He had no idea how many shouts there had been, or how long he had felt the heat, but eventually, the heat became more intense in a matter of seconds. In his dreams a little fire-man walking up to him. Then the fireman burped.

Guus was launched of the boat, struck by a big part of front mast. Suddenly, he felt the cold water all around him and he was fully awake. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. He recognized the burning remaining of Slag bij Nieuwpoort, named for a famous battle where the Dutch had defeated the Spanish. Everywhere pieces of wood were falling from the sky. He saw the remnants of barrels and boxes still floating. It all felt so...unnatural...He felt nothing, no pain, no sadness, now worries...He tried to stay floating, but he could hardly swim. It felt like the water was pulling at his legs. It would be so easy to just give up...
The water around him was becoming red.. Floating just a few feet from him, was something that had been fully burned. He swam to it, trying to see what it was. Then he recognized the Boatman.

The pain struck him. He started crying, not just because there was a piece of wood 2 inches long in his upper arm and lots of little pieces in his belly. His thought came back. He could think again.
Stay floating! That was his first thought. He succeeded in swimming a few yards to a big plank, went under water, came up again and put his arms around the plank. He stopped trapping the water with his legs. He took a few moments to catch his breath, then looked around him.
He recognized more bodies in the early sun, and looked for his dad. He shouted: "Is daar iemand?! Iemand!"
No response. He did not want the see the bodies, fearing his father would be among them. He just rested his head on the plank and wept.

The explosion was not far away from Terpsy, and the Master (who was the officer of the watch) altered course toward whatever it was, while at the same time sending the midshipman of the watch to get the Captain.

Oxley rubbed his face with his sleeve and tried not to yawn. He hoped it was something interesting, but it probably wasn't.

"Wreckage in th'water, sir!" the lookout called, and then there was the hurry of getting a boat lowered to go and investigate. Maybe there were survivors in the water?

Russell’s body jolted awake, his blue eyes scaled the sickbay in search of the source of the destructive sound that had just torn him from his brief sleep. Some of the patients who had been fast asleep in their cots stirred, others tried to elevate themselves. Flexing his eyes and slamming his tattered old leather-bound book shut, he asked aloud with a yawn, “Are we under attack?” He brought himself to his feet and made his way towards the top deck, putting on his tailcoat and by the time he reached there, the men were getting boats ready.

Russell stood there for a moment, squinting in the direction that the men were planning to head towards before he turned and asked the nearest standing person as loudly as he could, “What in God’s name is happening?”