CHAPTER I PORT OF CALL
	It is known that a Briar Islander, fish or no fish on his hook, never flinches from a sea.
	– From Sailing Alone Around the World by Joshua Slocum
	Brier Island, June, 1895 Well thar she blows at last! Pardon my Queen’s English, old girl, but if this ain’t one whale of a sight, then I don’t know what is. And look at us! Here we are a ’scudding in through Grand Passage with a bone in our teeth and the fog lifting off the water. Aye, ’tis a moment like this that gives a man a feeling that life’s worth living. I mean, isn’t this just about as grand as it ever gets? Almost makes that long and dreary crossing up from Massachusetts seem worth all the tacking and heaving, don’t it? And if it’s frosting on your cake you be wanting, girl, why just take a gander at what’s waiting for us up ahead! Not that I’m saying little old Westport is worthy of the setting God gave her. Even after all these years, she still don’t have a proper false front to her at all. Reminds me of a woman that’s missing her whalebone
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