It is November 28, 1872…

The brigantine Mary Celeste has been at sea for 23 days en route from New York to Genoa with a cargo of 1700 casks of commercial alcohol. It is a cargo the ship’s complement is unfamiliar with, and Captain Briggs is concerned with its volatile nature, particularly with the uncommonly warm weather this voyage. The Mary Celeste lies approximately 500 miles off the island of Santa Maria in the Azores.

The ship has experienced rough seas and gales for the past three days, although she has weathered it well. This morning, the storms broke and the day began with fair sailing. For the last few hours, however, the ship has been becalmed. There is no reason to expect the winds this evening. This is not a matter of much concern. In fact, the still air comes as a welcome relief for the tired crew of the Mary Celeste.

The Mary Celeste is an excellent vessel and in good hands. Captain Briggs is an outstanding master; his mates, Richardson and Gilling, are of unimpeachable character and competence, as are the cook and the crew of four. The Mary Celeste’s only passengers, the Captain’s wife, Sarah, and their daughter, Lizzie, are quite at home at sea, as is fitting for a captain’s family.

But for the lack of a breeze, all is well with the Mary Celeste, though should the need arise there is a lifeboat. The ship carries a 20-foot yawl, more than fit to carry all aboard the Mary Celeste, though hardly a boat to be called on for a long voyage. Also, the weapons locker is fully stocked and at the ready. Captain Briggs has the only key to the locker.

There have been strange happenings aboard the Mary Celeste. A stowaway has been found hiding in the forecastle. The Captain is quite nonplussed to find a woman hidden on his ship. Her story has yet to be sorted out.

A be-furred Inuit in a canoe made of hides has also hailed the Mary Celeste. How she came to be so far out at sea remains a mystery. At her insistence she has been taken aboard.

It is early evening, an hour from sunset . . .