On a morning in April, 1687, the brigantine Dolphin sailed into Saybrook harbor. Kit Tyler was standing on the deck, looking at the land for the first time in five weeks.
“There’s Connecticut Colony,” someone spoke in her ear. She looked up, surprised. The whole long voyage the captain’s son didn’t say a word to her. But she had often noticed him, his thin figure, tanned skin and sunburned hair. His name was Nathaniel Eaton or just Nat. “How do you like it?” he asked.
“Is that Wethersfield?” she asked Nat. America looked disappointing to Kit. The thin shoreline, gray harbor, ugly wooden houses – they were such a contrast to Barbados which was her home.
“No, this is the port of Saybrook, our home.”
She could see nothing interesting and was happy because this was not her destination.
“Have you ever been on a ship before?” Nat asked.
“I’ve sailed on little row boats in the islands all my life.”