Stuck on ChaosChapter 5
Our race to John’s Son’s Cove turned out to be a meander. Nothing like Mother Nature to stick in a Murphy. No matter ... we had to get it done. John’s Son’s Cove had the remainder of what could have been a much more populous time. The harbor had the ghosts of rock quays and wharves. The wreck of former warehouses lined the suspicion of the heyday that must have been a substantial industry. The warehouses along the quays were built from the brick and stone taken from those buildings that used...