They knew the waters were filled with cod, but they caught none. The seamen among the slightly more than 100 passengers– a mix of religious seekers, adventurers and entrepreneurs – dreamed aloud about the riches to be obtained from the astounding number of breaching whales. Land had been sighted two days earlier. The passengers noted the forested shores as their badly damaged ship inched forward and dropped anchor in a shallow and circular bay 500 miles off course. They had sailed to the edge of history and the beginning of a new age, but the occasion lacked the grandeur of later commemorations.
They were not at Plymouth Rock. Like all stories, there is always more.