garments, painted him from head to foot with every color of the rainbow and enthroned him in a regal hut. But Wafer had no mind to pass his remaining days as an Indian witch doctor or medicine man. Watching his opportunity he stole away, and garbed only in his coat of paint, sneaked off through the forest towards the coast. Months later, after untold hardships, he came in sight of the sea, and, without thinking of his appearance, rushed toward a party of buccaneers who fortunately were at hand nearby. For an instant the buccaneers gaped in amazement, utterly at a loss to understand who the nude, gorgeously painted creature was, and not until he shouted to them in English did they realize that it was the long-lost surgeon, Wafer. Never had buccaneer appeared before in such guise; they roared with laughter, and many were the rude jests and coarse jokes passed at the doctor’s expense. But poor Jobson, the divinity student, was less fortunate. He too had been overcome and left behind, and while he eventually managed to rejoin his comrades he was too far spent to recover and a few days later he died, his Greek Testament still clasped in his hand. But aside from Gayney and Jobson no lives were lost, and a few days after reaching the Caribbean shores the buccaneers were rescued by a French buccaneer, Captain Tristian, along with the loot they had carried throughout their awful journey, and Dampier’s ‘joyente of bamboo’ which the naturalist-buccaneer had preserved unharmed and within which was the closely written journal wherein he had daily set down every event of interest or note. “Meanwhile, back at Coiba Island, Sharp and his companions were preparing for their momentous undertaking. Stripping the other vessels of all fittings and arms, Sharp scuttled and burned them and proceeded to equip the Blessed Trinity for a pirate ship. Her high and ornately gilded poop was in the way, and with axes and hatchets the buccaneers hacked and chopped away the galleries and moldings, knocked off a tier or two of cabins and, hastily boarding it up, mounted guns with their grim muzzles protruding from what once had been the stained glass windows. Ports were cut in bulwarks and topsides, the decks were stripped of all unnecessary gear, the rigging was overhauled, and the ship with the holy name was ready for her most unholy work. At Coiba they laid in a supply of turtles, salted deer meat, and water, and on the afternoon of June 6, 1679, they sailed forth from Coiba Island on their marvelous voyage.