Chapter 10
Chapter 10
October 10, 1946
Dear Captain Harris,
It’s been many months since you left Sable Island, but because you and my father established a close friendship during the short time you were a guest here, I felt it was important to deliver some unfortunate news. I’m not sure if you recall, but I had planned to leave Sable at the end of August to attend Dalhousie University. A few days before I was supposed to board the ship for the mainland, my father and I went strolling on the beach, where he was bitten by a large gray seal. He considered it “only a small nip,” and we went home thinking nothing of it. The next morning, however, I couldn’t wake him, so I called Abigail, and we discovered that the wound had become infected.
My father was taken by air to the Victoria General Hospital in Halifax where it was determined that he had contracted a bacterial infection that was spreading quickly up his leg. To prevent further spreading of the bacteria, the decision was made to amputate. Thankfully, the surgery was a success, and for that I am grateful.
I’m not sure why I felt compelled to write to you about this, but since you had come to know all of us so well while you were stranded at Sable, I thought you might want to know.
The good news is that, after a lengthy recovery in the hospital, my father is now home with us and has resumed his duties as superintendent. He can’t get around as quickly as he used to because he has a prosthetic leg, and I’m sure you can imagine how challenging it is for him to walk on the dunes or even in the station yard where the sand is shifty. But he always loved working at his desk, so that is unchanged.
Thankfully, the Canadian Government has been excellent, and they sent supplies for the construction of concrete walkways between all the buildings at Main Station. Everyone loves our modern “sidewalks” and I’m sure the nesting beetles in the sand appreciate it as well because, when we all keep to the concrete, it prevents them from getting stomped on.
As for the rest of us, we are doing well. The weather has been mild lately (shockingly fog-free!) and the staff men are busy with some seasonal repairs at Station Number Two. Philip McKenna is still launching weather balloons every day, and Abigail has been knitting non-stop. She gave my father a lovely afghan for the parlor sofa to celebrate his return from the hospital.
Unfortunately, I must report that there has still been no word about your crewmen who rowed into the storm on that dreadful night, nor has there been any sign of the boat they sequestered. It has therefore been concluded that they were lost to the sea. I’m very sorry.
As for my own situation, sadly, I had to postpone my studies, but the university was understanding of my circumstances, and they expect me next fall. Hope springs eternal!
In all seriousness, despite these setbacks, I am not discouraged, and I am enormously content to be here with my father, helping him navigate this new existence with so many unique challenges. (I think, after the long war, we’ve all learned how to be patient and wait for the things we want, am I right? Nothing is ever instant or predictable. Occasionally, a grenade is dropped into our best laid plans, and we must leap out of the way and adapt to a changed environment. Oh, dear me. Now I’ve become philosophical.)
In more practical terms, I remind myself that one day I might have patients with physical disabilities who will need care regarding their mental health, so in a way, I consider this a valuable prologue to my education, because Papa certainly has his struggles.
So that is all the news from Sable Island. I hope this letter finds you well and that things were not too difficult for you with your employer after what happened during that deadly spring storm that brought you to our shores.
Best wishes,
Emma Clarkson