Having prepared everything, the next day I went on board the ship. However, since we were waiting for good weather, we stayed one more night before sailing away.
Early next morning we left the beach, but soon afterward two of the five prisoners we had left on the island swam to the ship and begged us to take them with us, or the others would kill them. We hesitated over whether it was a good idea to take them on board, but after a while we agreed to take them if they promised to serve us faithfully.
After a while, we sent a boat with all things we had promised to the prisoners. We gave them some guns and powder as well as their personal belongings from the ship.
This was the last thing we did before we lost the island on the horizon. It was the 19th of December, 1686. It was twenty-eight years, two months and nineteen days since I was shipwrecked on the island. It was a strange coincidence that I had saved myself from the Turkish pirates on that day many years ago.
Seven months later, in June, after a safe journey across the ocean, I set foot on English soil again. Thirty-five years had passed since I had left my homeland.