Roy Norton, Drowned Gold — Chapter 11 (1919)
“ Most of us had youth and the strength of youth. But one man aboard the boat had lost his life's work, and old Jimmy Martin was still sitting, absorbed, despondent, hopeless, when we caught a slowly moving wave, were rolled shorewards, and felt our keel grate on the sands of the beach. We stepped ashore, and stretched our cramped limbs on the earth of Martinique, that island which has passed into tragic fame. But a little walk around a friendly shoulder of land lay a tiny port of refuge, a village containing other and kindly men, and we who had survived had nothing physical to fear. ”
