Captain's log, Pleasure Cruiser Morbillo.
We were sailing south-southwest on course for Havana when we realised something was amiss.
[MAN]
What's that on the horizon?
But that's impossible.
It appears a vast expanse of seabed has risen beneath us in the night.
Strange people in long robes and diving helmets have come aboard the ship and are mingling happily with the passengers, who think that we have organised this for their amusement.
The High Priest has just won the Quoits contest.
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