Excerpt, page 7: “One June night in 1780, Ben arrived on Sable Island. He was swept in on the crest of a seventh wave amid wind and surf in pitch-dark terror. He hit the beach with such force that he blacked out for a few seconds. As he came to, he felt the sea pulling on his body and, in his dazed state, he seemed to hear demons calling him to hell. Desperately, Ben dug his fingers into the sand and dragged himself forward away from the sea’s grip. Just then another huge wave crashed in and flung a mass of broken spars and sailcloth on top of him. One of the broken spars struck him on the head. As he later told the story, he didn’t see stars but whole constellations as he lay under the sail. As it was, he knew nothing more for several hours. Slowly Ben opened his eyes. He hurt all over but he was alive and nothing seemed broken. In fact, he could see sunlight through the cloth and hear birds. Painfully he crawled out. In both directions, as far as he could see, stretched a long deserted beach. Besides the pieces of spar and sail there was not much else on the beach. The ship itself was lying on its side out on the sandbar with gaping holes and broken masts. Ben was a city boy who had never been totally alone in his life. Panic was close. He took a deep breath and sat down to think this out.”
