The noise was so ferocious,” Malcolm said, “and the lightning was so incessant, you could only see the negative image, only black and white.” § Across the table, Fred shook his head at the memory. “I just kept asking, ‘Why does it take so long to die?’” § “We were right there when that thing was made,” said Malcolm, pounding his fist on the table. “It was an imperfect no-account storm that formed perfectly, tightly around us.”
Strenz was not superstitious, either on land or sea, so on Friday the13th of October, damn superstition, the captain and his crew of three sailed out of Manchester Harbor. They talked like the survivors they were, still awed at the discovery of their own resources, and of their boundless good fortune.
They were…
