“A call to arms from the perilous waters of the Island. Kinfolk cower in their homes as wild squalls rage fury on us. A far cry from the glassy seas and towering swells from which we profited only a few days ago. Respite cruelly prized from our grasp, our hopes of reprieve in calmer seas lie tattered, at least for now. Scathed but not scarred, we persist through relentless gales and cloudbursts on the fringes of the ocean, passing the church in the bay where many a reveler and mourner has been left stranded at high tide. Through fortune and fortitude we reach the shore and are greeted by warm fires, zestful ales and hearty tales shared with our good friend, (sadly soon to depart us). For the storm has abated and the bow has settled. We wipe our blinkered eyes, ravaged and weary; the majestic scenes enveloped by the Island in a blind rage, ever imprinted in our minds”...