It was still early in the morning, but Anne was already out at the beach. Her father and brothers had gone out earlier that morning before the sun was up after a storm had made leaving the harbour impossible for a few days. It made her nervous whenever they took their chances as soon as the storm subsided. She always dreaded that the storm would gain force again as it had that fatal morning many years ago, when her brother and uncle and cousin had lost their lives. There was still a north easterly gale this morning, and whenever a sudden strong gust hit her or tugged at her skirts, she turned and looked out across the sea anxiously.

There was nothing she could do but pray, she would try to ease herself. Her responsibility was to focus on the task at hand, to gather as much driftwood as she could find. It made the cooking range so awfully more difficult to clean and it made their room so much smokier, but a poor fisher family had little choice but to be grateful for the free fuel. 

Despite the north easterly winds, it was hot walking around and bending over and lugging this basket with its increasing weight along. Anne had taken off her checkered shawl and draped it over her basket. When a sudden gust of wind hit her, it caught the shawl and blew it away, making it fly and roll across the sands. Anne instantly dropped her basket and gave chase. She couldn't afford to lose another one!