He closed his eyes, feeling the terrifying tilt of the deck. In the dark of his mind, he spoke to the ocean. He didn't beg. He reminded the water of the forty years they had shared—the secrets he had kept for it, the way he never took more than he needed.
Elias lashed himself to the tiller. A rogue wave, topped with frothing white teeth, crashed over the bow, extinguishing the engine. The silence that followed was louder than the storm. He was adrift in the heart of the grey. Wild Grey Ocean
He should have stayed in the harbor. But his daughter’s wedding was a month away, and the silver dory were running thick near the Devil’s Spine. He pushed off, the engine coughing a plume of black smoke against the pale morning. By midday, the world vanished. He closed his eyes, feeling the terrifying tilt of the deck
As the first light of dawn cracked the horizon, Elias saw the jagged silhouette of Oakhaven’s lighthouse. The current had delivered him directly to the mouth of the harbor, bypassing the rocks that had claimed a dozen better ships. He reminded the water of the forty years