The sea was rough, and for the hundredth time on this voyage the stowaway wished she could go up on deck for some fresh air. Catalina had discovered long ago the rejuvenating effects of the sea air on a queasy stomach; after all, she was a sea captain??™s daughter. In general she had always been a good sailor, but this maelstrom of buffeting winds and thundering waves was beyond anything she had ever experienced or even imagined. For the first time she was grateful that she??™d eaten so little on this crossing.nnShe could hear the running footsteps of the sailors and their frenzied shouts and knew this was no ordinary storm. The ship must be in trouble; this glorious Spanish galleon was being tossed about like a toy in a pond. Well, she??™d be deuced if she??™d let all her tribulations come to naught at the bottom of the English Channel. Carefully, Catalina unfolded her long frame from its cramped quarters in the hold and steadying herself against the violent pitch of the ship, made her way to the upper deck.nnThere she beheld an astonishing sight. The ship??™s main deck was almost vertical, as wave after wave tipped it on its side. The main mast was snapped like a twig, and swarms of sailors were grappling with the remaining sails to right the ship. It was futile. In all the excitement, nobody even noticed that there was a slightly bedraggled woman standing wide-eyed in their midst. The groaning of the once mighty galleon and the sound of splintering wood filled the air as Catalina watched, as if from a great distance, the graceful ship break up into the cold, dark water. Soon she was plunged into this water, which immediately brought her to her senses. She wrestled out of her dress, which was dragging her down into the cold embrace of the ocean, and shed her petticoats. Desperately, she plunged forward to grasp a solid plank of wood from the rapidly sinking Santa Dominica. nnShe knew if she didn??™t get out of this freezing water, she would die, but she wouldn??™t let herself think about that right now. Instead she concentrated on maintaining possession of that plank of wood, and hoisted herself as much as she could on top of it to spare her body from the clutches of the sea. The storm, satisfied with its destruction for now, seemed to abate, and Catalina rested her head on her makeshift lifeboat and drifted along with the currents.