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Charles Sumner
The Spanish Galleon
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7177842The Spanish Galleonhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-spanish-galleon-9781219412281/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/6718764/image.jpg?v=6387007124537700001919MXNPrabhat PrakashanInStock/Ebooks/<p>On the eighteenth day of August, 1886, as the sun was setting, I was floating in the Caribbean Sea. You may mark the place on the map as being approximately N. latitude 15, and W. longitude 62 from Greenwich; or in other words, between one hundred and two hundred miles west of the French island of Martinique. A chest, well corded but partly filled with water, was all that kept my head above the surface. Without food or drink I had been floating thus since shortly after sunrise of the previous morning. At that time the sloop in which I was voyaging, capsized and sunk in a squall, drowning the negro captain and owner, and his son, who constituted the crew. In this little vessel I was bound for a small uninhabited island known as Key Seven, which was in plain sight when the disaster occurred. For two days and a night, without sleep or refreshment, I had been struggling to push the floating chest toward this land.</p>...6833101The Spanish Galleon1919https://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-spanish-galleon-9781219412281/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/6718764/image.jpg?v=638700712453770000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20099781219412281_W3siaWQiOiI1ZjFjYjVlYy0xODhlLTQwODQtOTllMS0zYTYyYmM0ODU4ZTgiLCJsaXN0UHJpY2UiOjIwLCJkaXNjb3VudCI6MCwic2VsbGluZ1ByaWNlIjoyMCwiaW5jbHVkZXNUYXgiOnRydWUsInByaWNlVHlwZSI6IkFnZW5jeSIsImN1cnJlbmN5IjoiTVhOIiwiZnJvbSI6IjIwMjUtMDYtMzBUMDk6MDA6MDBaIiwidG8iOiIyMDI1LTA2LTMwVDIzOjU5OjU5WiIsInJlZ2lvbiI6Ik1YIiwiaXNQcmVvcmRlciI6ZmFsc2V9LHsiaWQiOiI3ZjYwZTUyNy02MTVhLTRjNmQtYTU4NS05NThkNzhjNTQzZTYiLCJsaXN0UHJpY2UiOjE5LCJkaXNjb3VudCI6MCwic2VsbGluZ1ByaWNlIjoxOSwiaW5jbHVkZXNUYXgiOnRydWUsInByaWNlVHlwZSI6IkFnZW5jeSIsImN1cnJlbmN5IjoiTVhOIiwiZnJvbSI6IjIwMjUtMDctMDFUMDA6MDA6MDBaIiwicmVnaW9uIjoiTVgiLCJpc1ByZW9yZGVyIjpmYWxzZX1d9781219412281_<p>On the eighteenth day of August, 1886, as the sun was setting, I was floating in the Caribbean Sea. You may mark the place on the map as being approximately N. latitude 15, and W. longitude 62 from Greenwich; or in other words, between one hundred and two hundred miles west of the French island of Martinique. A chest, well corded but partly filled with water, was all that kept my head above the surface. Without food or drink I had been floating thus since shortly after sunrise of the previous morning. At that time the sloop in which I was voyaging, capsized and sunk in a squall, drowning the negro captain and owner, and his son, who constituted the crew. In this little vessel I was bound for a small uninhabited island known as Key Seven, which was in plain sight when the disaster occurred. For two days and a night, without sleep or refreshment, I had been struggling to push the floating chest toward this land.</p>...9781219412281_Prabhat Prakashanlibro_electonico_9781219412281_9781219412281Charles SumnerInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/prabhatbooks-epub-c2142c4d-f325-4b87-a5c0-93ef2f2227a4.epub2009-12-15T00:00:00+00:00Prabhat Prakashan