29. Lighthouse Point, 1918“And that’s how I spent my first night on Fitzwilliam Island, with my mother, tied to the mast of the Alice Hackett.”
Robert Lefroy, amateur historian, looked at his informant with amazement. “And afterwards?”
Angélique burst out laughing. “The next day, the people from the boat finally saw us. My father was still passed out. According to gossip, it was more because of the whisky than his injury. All the same, his forehead remained scarred until the end of his days.”
The historian was still taking notes. This priceless account of the coastal life of Georgian Bay would be added to the others he’d published in a prestigious historical journal.
“So the Alice Hackett didn’t sink?”
“No, not right away. It sank up to the deck, and then settled on the bottom of the
