Comments: Hey funny that this is a hoax.
I was reading the local web host news and this story was on the front page with the picture and title "fish story with proof" its not just an email anymore its front page news!!
the site is www.castanet.net

Because of the rather large numbers of responses to the shark story we ran last month.  We will be placing the replys in Magazine Yarmouth. They will also be listed here until the end of the month.  To view the progress on this strange story please click HERE!

Comments: i'm from yarmouth and i used to fish in the 60's with a guy name bubby pine and i seen sharks bigger then that one caught off yar. down on the good old georges banks so their is no legend its real people

                herringbone

Comments: 

Comments: Compliments of the season to all. Thank you for your site, have enjoyed browsing. I have been told that US Liberty ship was grounded somewhere off Yarmouth at possibly the latter part of WW11. I am trying to get any info that I can on this ship if my info is correct. My hope is that maybe some of your more senior citizens may remember such an incident. My search is in aid of a Merchant Mariner from my community. 

Thanks Don

Comments: Newest pics of Yarmouth.. Hope they bring back memories.

http://spaces.msn.com/members/yarmouth/

Comments: The hard working Yarmouth locals definitely have the best seafood out of anywhere I have ever lived or traveled to. They are also the most hospitable people on planet earth.Whenever the weather gets cloudy, a warm smile is never hard to find.

Comments: Sent to me by well meaning friends in Nanaimo, who knew I had recently moved from the west coast of Vancouver Island.  My virus protection software is set on "high" and had deleted part of the incoming message.  That made me suspicious, so I did some research and found your site.  Saw many Six Gill Sharks, and even a couple of Blue Sharks in Barkley Sound.  Seeing a Great White would have been the extreme thrill, from the deck of the boat.  Congratulations on a wonderful website, made for some very interesting reading.

Comments: Back N 1960/1 I went 2 school with a person named James(Jimmy) Trott who called Sand Beach, home. I have not heard from him since June of 1961. I would love 2 know of his whereabouts. We had a friend who lived N Liverpool by the name of Vic Mc/Macleod. I condidered both of these fellows friends and have been anxious to find them.Since I have not been able 2 make contact with Vic I was wondering if there is anyone N your community who could shed some light on where James may live. This may B somewhat of an unusual request,however,I felt that if I made an attempt via this route it would @ least B a start. 
Any help would B most appreciated.
Sincerely yours,
Allan Edwards
2601 17th Ave S E
Medicine Hat AB
Phone  403-526-8750 

Comments: 

Comments: was born in yarmouth,family still lives there.
checking out site so we can plan a trip this summer.
web-site ( the tops )

Comments: I'm in the middle of a genealogy search.  I have hit a stone wall and need help. An ancestor Moses Perry was one of the founders of Yarmouth and I can trace his line down to John Perry (1788-1864) married Hannah Hemeon (her father was Phillip Hemeon) they had 12 children.  I need to find who these 12 children and who they married. My father Leslie B. Perry's (1884-1965)mother was Dora Lee Beal Perry(1858-1927)and her mother was Lois Hemeon Beal(1824-1916).  My grandfather was a William Perry. Dora and William married in Yarmouth and subsequently emigrated to Cambridge, Mass. My father told me his father (William) was lost at sea. Can anyone help me out of this dilemma?  Was William Perry,my grandfather a son of John or the son of one of John's sons? I'm new at this stuff and it gets very confusing!

Comments: In Sept. of 04 my family visited Yarmouth N.S..  I was awe struck by the scenery.  Where we come from there isn't any thing to look at but fields of corn. You are so lucky to be able to view the sun set over the cape every night.  your rocky shores set beautiful backdrops for excellent photos.  I will return! 

Comments: Nice website. 

Comments: Hello to our friends in the greater Yarmouth area.  We are spending our third winter on a mission trip to Mexico.  We work in the poorer areas dispensing food, clothing and , most importantly, love to the people there.

If you want to see what we do, go to http://www.avoiceinthedesert.com We update this page on a regular basis and would love for you to drop by, sign our guest book or send us an email.  We maintain lists that we email to when we update our pages so you could request that if you want.

We miss you all and will be returning to Port Maitland sometime near the first of April.

Serving HIM in Alamos, Mexico
Larry and Shirley Stephens

Comments: Didn't believe it for a moment so I Googled it and found your website within about 2 minutes of first getting the email.  Port Albion was one tip but we also would have heard about it locally by now, not to mention time spent at Bamfield doing marine biology via UVic had me skeptical about the possibility.  Cheers, Sean

Comments: 

Comments: thought it was to good to be true

Date: 1/6/2005
Name: Art A. Surette
Location: Houston, Texas, USA
E-Mail: art.surette@hal.hitachi.com

Comments: Great-grand father-Edward Surette-Yarmouth
Grandfather-William E. Surette-1896 to 1983
Father-Art A. Surette 1932 to 2004

Comments: Visted Weymouth doing genealogy on great great grandfather Asa Gates of Weymouth Mills. Thought Weymouth a very pleasant village.

Comments: got us thinking but area code gave it away 

Comments: Well, its made it to Toronto. I was so surprised, I had to see if it was for real. Nice one!

Comments: 

Date: 1/8/2005
Name: lorraine saulnier
Location: rothesay n.b.
E-Mail: fairvale@nb.sympatico.ca

Comments: 

Comments: Didn't know if it was true though thought I'd pass it on as a laugh since we hear of ancient Fraser River sturgeon which are huge. Went to a number of folk throughout North America

Date: 1/9/2005
Name: Robin Mousley
Location: Cape Town, South Africa
E-Mail: mousley@ibi.co.za

Date: 1/9/2005
Name: Ron Larche
Location: Winnipeg MB
E-Mail: rlarche@shaw.ca

Comments: Received a copy of the myth from my brother who lives in Thailand. The story is going around the globe.
Cheers

Comments: My sister-in-law's maiden name was Surette and I am interested in genealogy. 

Comments: Very nice and useful website. Please visit my website. Happy New Year!!! :) 
http://www.metropolis5000.com

Comments: I'm a skeptic at the best of times it seems, and certainly mindful of potential urban mythology, which has a found a place on the net in many forms it seems. 

I Googled 'great white in uculet' (even spelt it wrong...Google offered it's typical correction)...anyways...there you is and there it was.

Nice though...pretty sure it caught the guy who sent it to me.

Comments: Scrivi il tuo blog http://www.blog-buster.net

Comments: Gotta love a good fish story

Comments: My father was Levi Henry Surette, son of John Surette formerly of Lincoln Maine and then of Dover-Foxcroft Maine.
I believe John was raised in "Irishtown" Canada.  His son, Levi, in Shediac I think.  My father shared very little information about the origin of our branch of the Surette's if indeed he had that information.  My sister was named "Jane Francis" which was also the name of one of the ships made in Nova Scotia.  A connection to NS? 
   I'd like to hear from anyone who thinks they know of John Surette in Irishtown and his family.
Odella Surette Crawford 

Comments: hello, gj
i thought i would visit your site

Comments: When I received this e-mail I didn't beleive. I live on the west coast and it would have hit the news here.  Also, the phone number on the crane has a Nova Scotia area code.

Comments: It didn't fool Rob because he saw the phone number on the crane and discovered it was a Nova Scotia area code.  But it did make me second guess our next surfing trip to Tofino.  But not anymore, SURFS UP!

Jen

Date: 1/12/2005
Name: Scooter
Location: Calgary
E-Mail: ssimpson@quadraenergy.com

Comments: this myth freaked out my girlfriend... we had surfed in Ucluelet this summer... she is desparately afraid of sharks.

Comments: I like urban legends!

Comments: Hi mary wallace i remember you as well as girly ogden we lived on lonnigan lane besides  may, barney(cop once i hear)wimmpy,cappy & gordie ogden as well as all th siscos clifford  my gay brother davids friend marion shirley henry mom marion tom father nick named speccal trout  lefy in 1966 went to work quebec with a bunch from home.uncle ken burill ran jail cousin ken muise cop once. lived as well lewis st forbes st beside burills  after duckworth lulu barb (jim dececed)fishing acccident my day john smith(sookie)

Comments: I got freaked because we just saw a sealion in Tofino, the best surfplace in BC. I'm stoked it's not great white's there too!

Comments: Been awhile since I've seen the book, nice to see some old friends... Email me sometime   say Hi 

Comments: Quite the story.  Wrong coast!

Comments: 

Comments: hi Im looking for annette cottreau or annette Gautreau  please help with any info          thx

Comments: looks like a wonderful place!

Comments: My Uncle sent me this from France! (He is from Vancouver too)Thanks.

Comments: i live in carleton

Comments: Ciao amici miei! sono http://www.blog-buster.net

Comments: I didn't think it was true.  Our waters are pretty cold for a white, especially at this time of the year. I've never heard of one here.  It's only 37 degrees off Vancouver right now.  Besides, there's a phone number on a piece of equipment in the picture and it isn't the area code for either the lower mainland or Vancouver Island. 

Comments: I'm looking for information about the Port Maitland and Beaver Creek Cemetery Company.   Is there an available phone number for them?  I'm starting a geneology search for my husband's family who originated in Nova Scotia...the name is Piper. 

Comments: I just thought that it was unlikely that a shark could tow a 42 foot boat backwards through the water at 7 knots, as the e-mail said.

Comments: i got it

Comments: Hi there fellow fisherman,
A special thanks to Beachcomer for giving me the address for this site,so far from what I have seen it is going to be very interesting to be communicating with people that have the same thing in common (fishing)Bravo to the people that put this site together.
Best Regards,
Yvon Thibault

Comments: I was privileged to spend a few months in Ste Anne du 
Ruisseau as a teacher with the Sisters of Charity in 1956-57.I still have pictures of my students that bring back warm memories. I taught grades primary to 4 in the little two room school. I wonder after all these years if I would still have to ask everyone to repeat their comments because I could not understand the Acadian French. I still think it was a great experience to have spent those few months with you and if the occasion permits I would love to revisit Ste Anne even at this advanced age I may still make it.

Comments: I loved the story!...One question ?  why kill it ?? ok I lied two questions would it have eventually left those waters for warmer ones ??

Comments: The forklift has a Nova Scotia area code

Comments: 

Comments: This was sent among a group of us who go fishing on the West Coast of Van Isle. Sure got my attention, but the telephone area code on the boom got my attention so I searched and found your site. A good tale gone bad!

Comments: 

Comments:  HI!   I'M THE GRANDSON OF THE WAKELINGS, RUTH REDING (WAKELING) SON. SAY HI TO THE  KENNY DELANEYS

Comments: Have to respond to the child that asked why the Shark was killed. Except for barbarians and the military, homosapiens kill things to eat, or for use in building. We have been doing this for thousands of years. 
I will choose wild meat, from land or ocean, any day, over meat that may have been pumped up with Growth Regulators, antibiotics, or that may have been genetically modified by man.
Shark meat is delicious. Try it when it's available.

Comments: I saw this at my local fishmonger's shop.  I'm sorry to hear it's not true as it nearly gave my seafaring brother a heart attack.  I suppose that was worth it!

Comments: Rec'd from a friend in Maple Bay, B.C.

Comments: Gavelton is a great place to live, i grew up their very beautiful place

Comments: god am I glad to hear that its just a fish tail!!! My b/f and I were about to go scuba diving near there!!!!! 

Comments: Great story. Having surfed and paddled in the Tofino area over the years of course I was interested.  Did some research and found this site.  My comment is - wow the guy that decided to lasso this thing must have some large balls.  No matter how cool I think great white sharks are I can't see myself roping this fish as things can go wrong enough out there in the winter.  Cheers

Comments: god am I glad to hear that its just a fish tail!!! My b/f and I were about to go scuba diving near there!!!!! 

Comments: Great story. Having surfed and paddled in the Tofino area over the years of course I was interested.  Did some research and found this site.  My comment is - wow the guy that decided to lasso this thing must have some large balls.  No matter how cool I think great white sharks are I can't see myself roping this fish as things can go wrong enough out there in the winter.  Cheers

Comments: 

Comments: Had me fooled until I realized there is no Port Albion in Uclulet

Comments: Have not gone thru your web site as ye, but exploring Nova Scotia on the web, only to be visiting the month of August this year. 

Comments: I miss Yarmouth County.I shall return.lbp

Comments: rockin 

Comments: nice site! would be great if you could add http://tollernet.de  as a link   ( Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retrievers)

Comments: Hi everyone, how are things in Yarmouth these days?  I wanted to leave a message and say hi to everyone.  Many of you reading this probably know me and my family.  My family owns Ernie's Bar and Grill in the south end.  I enjoy this site as it reminds me of home, and also I enjoy the historical links as well as the pictures.  Also it brings back fond memories of the summer times and of high school as well.  I kind of miss home sometimes, perhaps one day I will build my business and move back to Nova Scotia.  You sometimes dont realize what you are missing until you have something and then you leave it behind or it disappears. 

Anyway so I have started my own small computer and network consulting business which is slowly growing, and I have graduated from Seneca College Computer Networking and Technical Support Program.  My business web site is http://www.anthonysaulnier.com which connects to my web server here at home.  Check it out, it has a few neat things on it. 

Please feel free to contact me.

Comments: Great place to live. Got to love the weather.

Comments: Hello friends! from http://groups.msn.com/St-Petersburg-Russia

Comments: guyssssssssssss am hereeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeo

Comments: Hi, I'm originally from Cape Breton, and spent a summer working in Yarmouth. I'm looking for a painting(it was for sale) that hung in a coffee shop the summer I worked there. I think it was 1998. It was a painting of a sock and sheet on a clothesline. I know it's a long shot, but if it sounds familiar to anyone, and you think you might know who the artist is, I'd love to know.

Comments: Hi there, I got this email (not the first time), but now it says that the shark was caught in UCUELET, BC - here it is......
So much for swimming in the Ocean around  B.C's West Coast !!!! 
> 
>UCLUELET, B.C. 
>(West side of Vancouver Island) 
>======================================================================== 
>While the ocean vessel 'Dawn Raider' was commercial fishing for dogfish, this Great White was hooked in the mouth but only resisted slightly for 15 minutes before it came up alongside the boat to have a look; long enough for one of the crew members to slip a rope around it's tail !!! 'And that's when the s**t hit the fan!!. The Shark took off towing the 42 foot fishing boat backwards through the water at about 7 Knots.   Just like in JAWS, the boat was taking on water over the stern and the crew watched in horror as the shark would actually jump completely out of the water at times.This went on for an hour before the shark finally drowned.  She weighed in at 1035 LBS. It is suspected she followed a weak El Nino current into local waters in search of food.  Although mid 60 deg. water is considered ideal for these sharks, the larger ones can tolerate water in the low 50s. 

Now, the one thing that made me think it wasn't BC, was the (902) area code on the hoist.  So when I found out where (902) was, I googled the story and came up with you!
What a story!

Comments:  Very interesting   . I have been trying to trace my family tree, maybe someone out there can help me.
Looking for info on William M Fletcher  of South Ohio,Married to Emily Churchill.My Great Great Great grandparents.Emily was the daughter of Benjamin  Churchill.
Any info please e mail me at mc@ns.sympatico

Comments: Hi Wonder if the Mike fellow ,who wanted to know the birth date of Aron Churhill the first. I notice he never left a e-mail adddress. Anyway if you contact me by e mail, I can give you some info who to contact if you have not found out yet. from mc@ns.sympatico.ca

Date: 1/24/2005
Name: Bear
Location: Victoria B.C
E-Mail: 

Comments: Email was received through a friend and cast immediate doubt. Thanks to your website the truth has been revealed and once again I can sleep at night.

Comments: 

Comments: Have visited Yarmouth several times, the latest last August. My mother was born in Chebogue Point in 1902. I still have relatives in Kelly's Cove and Arcadia, as well as my fathers relatives around Berwick and Aylesford. He was born in Waterville in 1900. 

Comments: 

Comments: Hi, just letting you know Loblaws/Superstore also broke their agreement here in New Glasgow by destroying a natural brook and stand of trees. They had promised at a town hall meeting [a joke formality] that they would not touch this area. The same afternoon as that nights meeting, the bulldozers were already in place and ready to go. They have also ruined my property and peace by destroying the woods that served as a backdrop for my backyard and they also lied about a bufferzone. They also choose to accept any inquiries or comments concerning their lies and it's basically "screw you" attitude. I urge everyone to BOYCOTT Atlantic Superstore and any Loblaws business. It won't be long before they destroy a neighbourhood near you! 

Comments:  Was home for the 2004 Chritmas season, It was nice to see family and old friends I haven't seen in years. I am the son of the late Raymond And Sheila(Goodwin) Berry Of Yarmouth.

Comments: We loved the little campsite on the hill in Lunenburg!

Comments: I received the urban legend email from a friend trying to scare me as I am going diving in BC soon!

Comments: HUGE!  Thats so awesome - almost a shame to kill but where theres one - well, I wont be taking a swim there!
Actually we get GW's all along the west coast but still - havent seen a catch like it!
Congratulations!

Comments: Why do people feel they need to do something like this...
Bored people should get out and walk around the block before their back ends get as big as their heads!

Thanks for clearing this all up.

Comments: I received the SHARK from Ucluelet email yesterday and got suspicious.  I searched the internet and found the site that set it straight...it is still pretty amazing that such a huge shark was caught off the coast of Nova Scotia.

Comments: Funny.  Noticed the phone number on the crane arm immediately as not a B.C. area code.  Emailed my person to trace back.

Comments: Nice Site , Keep it up...

Comments: 

Comments: was shocked and believed it.  Should have seen the number on the crane. . . Yeah, can go swimming in ocean again!

Comments: bastards had me goin to all my friends about it....

Comments: I got this email saying it was caught in barkley sound, then i read up on this, so yeah, just lettin ya know.

Comments: Is there any service in or out of Yarmouth airport these days, or has the ferry service all but shut the airport down?  Does it still maintain its "international" status... ie. could one fly directly to Yarmouth from the states?

Comments: This is a very interesting web site, keep up the good work that is being put into it. My wife is originally from Wedgeport, she was the oldest living daughter of late Albany & Frances Corporon

Comments: Love Nova Scotia!

Comments: seeing these pics really brings me back.I have worked in Pubnico for the last 4 years seasonal and seeing the pictures kinda makes me a little home sick.Great job

Comments: I noticed the 902 area code on the lift, and knew it wasn't true anyway...

Comments: Just a note to say I was here.  Hello to all from home and those who have left us for other places!

Comments: quite nice

Comments: I like reading about my family history.

Comments: just got this email--thought it sounded funky-googled your site, and found the truth!

Date: 1/30/2005
Name: Florence(Whitehouse) Newell
Location: Ontario
E-Mail: florencens@hotmail.com

Comments: Really enjou all the sites around Yarmouth like to visit every year. It is a great place many nice people

Comments: Got it from a former boss in Sitka, Alaska.

Comments: how is the surette family tree progressing? From piere 1 and up?   Thank you, paul surrette

Date: 1/31/2005
Name: Jackie
Location: Rivers, MB
E-Mail: dixmoo@mts.net

Comments: Hi there! 

I received the hoax email of the "great white" shark caught near Ucluelet from someone in my office. I'm quite suspicious of these sorts of emails boasting fantastic accomplishments, pictures, "world records" etc. I first checked to see if Ucluelet has an online version of their newspaper to determine if the story was in there. No luck. I then did the next obvious, typing in the name of the boat into "Google" and found your website! I also looked closely at the photos and something didn't "sit right" with me. The one of the shark on the forklift didn't look right for a great white. So I researched it and found another photo on the Florida Museum of Natural History website! (http://www.flmnh.ufl.edu/fish/Gallery/Descript/ShortfinMako/Shortfinmako.html)
I have sent the information of the hoax email to a US website in case it shows up there. Does anyone know of a similar Canadian website which lists hoaxes?

Cheers!

Jackie

Comments: Wedgeport Cave
By
Bill Boudreau

Vincent and Shelby entered Chebec woods, shrouded in myth.
“It’s been six years since I came here with my grandfather,” he said.
Under tall-vegetated canopies, sticky air, the afternoon became dim and heavy. Among beech, spruce, pine, and birch trees and around granite boulders, the trail snaked upward. Made their way over dry leaves, soggy foliage, damped moss, and fallen logs. Circled rotten stumps. Pushed aside ferns. Perennial towers sliced the daylight.
She trailed behind. He stopped. Waited for her. “You okay?”
“Of course!” She jumped over a fallen trunk.
A mile further, sea musk filled the air. Gulls clacked. Blue water emerged between vines and branches. They’d reached the other side. The Cape across, Tusket River to the right, flowed in the Wedgeport bay, coves, canals and marshes.
 On a fifteen-foot cliff they gazed at the cavern’s entrance veiled in ocean mist.
 “There it is,” he pointed. “The cave with a secret.”
 “A black hole,” she said. “A throat that swallows whoever enters its mouth. You sure you want to go in there?”
 “Yes! Grandpa told me the legend.”
 “Everyone in Wedgeport knows the story. No one dares go in.”
 “The legend says that a wise Micmac, long before the white man came, went in there and etched a message on the rock wall. He’d told his tribe the message would tell how to read other people’s minds. Isn’t that it?”
 “Yeah. The author never came out. A couple of hundred years ago, an Acadian tried to reach it. He’s still in there. Whoever enters, the tale goes, doesn’t come out. The hole never empties. Tide rushes in. Fills before the intruder can escape. You still want to go?”
 “Uh-huh. The entry passage is high enough for me to go in standing. Behind us, a birch.” He turned. “I’ll tie a rope.”
 “The hole is about half full. Ocean receding—I think?”
 “Day after tomorrow, Wednesday, three o’clock, the tide will be at its lowest. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll go in a ways. Are you coming with me? —”
 “Well. I’ll tag along. Any sign of danger. I’m out. Quick.”
 “Me too.”
 “Look over there,” she pointed west, across the bay. “That’s uncle Arthur’s house.”
 “We’ll have to backpack the gears”
 “You know what?” still staring toward her uncle’s place, “See the dock, dory?”
 “Yeah.”
 “Instead, load the dory, row here.”
 “What about tide?”
 “No problem. Row here before the bay empties. After our exploration, the sea will cover the flats. Row back. Have you ever rowed a dory?”
 “Naw. Only lakes in Oklahoma. Outboard motors. Some canoes.”
 “I’ll take care of it. It’s less than a mile.”
They returned on their tracks to the two-routed path where Shelby had parked the truck in the weeds, at the edge of the forest.
While they drove, he said, “What’s your plan, this fall?”
“University. Study marine biology. You?”
“I’ve been accepted at University of Oklahoma. Computer system engineering. I’d like to develop software for aircraft fighters.”
“Sounds exciting.”
 That evening at the supper table Vincent told Arthur Pothier, married to his grandfather’s sister, Anne, where he and Shelby had been that afternoon.
 “You guys, be very careful,” Arthur said. Put a spoon full of chowder in his mouth. “As soon as you see danger. Get out. Fast. At rising tide, the currents are powerful at the mouth of the bay. I don’t want Bill to lose a grandson and me my only niece.”
 “We will. Smells good.” Vincent took a bite. “Mm, tasty.”
 “First time you ate fish chowder?” Anne said.
 “Uh-huh. I like it. What’s in it?”
 “Whole clams, lobster meat, onions, fresh cod, some seasoning. Cubed potatoes. Cream.”
 Vincent ate two bowls.
“Your mother called this afternoon. She wants you to call tonight,” Anne said.
 “She did!”
 “She told me my brother put you up to this.”
 “Your grandfather, uh? Bill hasn’t changed,” Arthur said.
 “Grandpa told me if I made high grades when I graduated high school he’d pay a one week trip to Wedgeport. He gave me a credit card.”
 After supper Vincent emailed his grandfather and his buddies, Blake and Cole. Then he dialed his mother.
“Mom?”
 “Vincent, why didn’t you call when you got there Sunday?”
 “Everything was okay.”
 “Are you still going in that cave?”
 “Yes, Mom. It’s okay. I’ll be careful. I went to look this afternoon. Shelby is coming with me. Any sign of danger. We step out.”
 “I talked to Papa this afternoon. He assured me that you have good sense. I don’t want you to get hurt, or worse. I love you.”
 “I love you too, Mom. Bye.”
 By one o’clock, Tuesday, through thick fog, Shelby rowed. She shored the dory a few feet from the cave. The black hole contrasted the white mist. They unloaded, tied the rope to the birch. The mist that entrapped Wedgeport began to dissipate in the early afternoon sun.
 Vincent and Shelby slid into rubber overalls. Tighten the shoulder straps to under their armpits. Tested the helmet lights. Slipped on gloves.
“Billy,” Shelby said to her younger brother who’d come to stay outside, “sit in the dory,” she pointed. “The phone signal can transmit from there. Play your Game Boy to pass the time.”
 “Let’s go,” Vincent said.
 He grabbed the rope, swung it over his shoulder, sliding. Shelby followed three feet behind. Picks in their other hand, they entered, disappeared as if swallowed.
 “We’ll notch the right wall, at eye level, every ten to twelve steps,” he said.
 “Aw right.”
 “Slopes down quick.” His voice deadened. “Getting deeper.”
 “Move slow. Feel your footing.”
 “Slippery.”
 “Smells,” she said. “Yuak. Don’t know what.”
 He chipped the wall. “Rock glistens. Seeps. Slime everywhere.”
 “Up front, total darkness. Sucks our lights.”
 “I’m above my knees,” he said. “Still going down.”
 “Take small steps.”
 “I think it’s leveling. Nopee. Down again. Rocky.”
 “Tide close to ebb.”
 “Yeah. Ceiling tapers downward,” she said.
 “Hey! Something bumping my legs. Snakes!”
 “Not snakes,” she said. “Eels.”
 “Eels! Those monstrous thing. Big mouths. That can tear your arm off?”
 “No! No! That specie doesn’t exist here. Smaller. Two feet long at the most. Good to eat.”
 “What! You eat those things?” He notched the wall for the third time.
 “Yes. Just peel off the skin. Chopped them in two-inch chunks. Fry them. Make a stew. Chowder.”
 “Come on!”
 “Serious.”
 “Water getting deeper. Waist level. Still edging downward. What’s wrapping my leg? I’m stuck. Can’t move.”
 Shelby bent closer. Beamed her light in the water. “Kelp. Jerk your foot. It’ll come off.”
 “Can’t see the entrance any more.” He made another notch. 
 “The passage is still going down. Narrower.”
 “Water at chest level. Should we continue?” he said.
 “Lets stop. Flash our lights around.”
 “What’s this? I stepped on something fleshy. It wiggled away.”
 “Probably a flounder. Catfish.”
 “Beam forward.”
 They stood side by side.
“The passage widens, ahead,” she said.
 “We’re on a level bottom.” He stepped forward. “Tilts upward, I think.”
 She looked at the time. “The tide is rushing in. I feel increased pressure on by back.”
 “Gee! Powerful. I’ll knot the rope.”
 “I’ll call Billy. Tell him we’re on our way out.” She dialed. “Billy answer! Billy answer! Is he asleep? Darn it! He’s so possessed by that Game Boy.”
 “I’m here!” Billy said.
“Where were you? — You had to pee? We’re on our way out.”
They turned around. Faced rushing water. Vincent behind Shelby, in unison, they grabbed long reaches on the rope, pulled, as the water rose, filling the hole. The entrance came in sight. Half closed by the sea. As if regurgitated, they came out. Waded to the side of the dory. Leaned against it. Took deep breaths. Vincent lifted his foot. “Slimy weeds,” he said.
“It’ll be easier tomorrow at lower tide,” she said. “The water is deep enough to row home. Untie the dory, Billy. Get in.”
 Billy leaped in, stepped to the back. The front lifted. Shelby climbed in, sat on the rowing seat. Threw the oars in the stirrups. Vincent pushed while she back paddled to deeper water. He jumped in. Dory afloat, she rowed away.
Anne invited Shelby and Billy to stay for supper. Billy declined.
 “Aunt Anne,” Shelby said. “Did you cook eels?” Face down grinned.
Vincent threw glanced at 
Shelby looked at Vincent from the corner of her eye. “He-he,” her hand over her mouth.
 “What eels?” Anne said.
 “You saw some eels, did you?” her uncle said. 
 “Uh-huh. And kelp. And flounder.”
 “Smells good,” Vincent said to Anne.
“Baked cod.”
Mashed potatoes, home baked bread, carrots, and butter on the table. Fresh strawberries for dessert.
 Arthur finished the seating by telling a few pirate stories of Wedgeport’s past. After he’d told the one of the headless man on Speck Island seen carrying his head, Shelby asked Vincent, “Want to meet my parents?”
 “Yeah. I’d like that.”
 Vincent arrived back at the Pothier’s house by ten. He emailed his buddies, his mother and grandfather. Went to bed.
 Through the open window, Chebec woods’ silhouette loomed to the east. The moon hung higher than the previous night over the dark form. A glistening trail rippled across the Tusket River. Loons’ cries haunted the night.
 Will he reach the cave’s end tomorrow? Find the message? He fell asleep.
 A dream came uninvited. Alone, he stood in front of the black hole. The entrance became a mouth. Long, sharp teeth edged the contour. A lizard tongue came out, licked him inside. He awoke. Sat up. Through the window, a fading howl instilled a skittish sleep that transported him to dawn.
 At nine, Shelby drove in the driveway, stepped out, slammed the truck’s door, and rushed in the porch. Came into the kitchen. Her brown ponytail dangled behind her cap. She wore well-fitted jeans and an ocean blue tankini. Sea Swells stamped across her chest. Belly button exposed. Slapped flat leather sandals.
“I’m going on an errant for Dad. Want to come?” she asked Vincent. “I’ll show you the Breakwater, Wedgeport point, fish factory, Tuna Wharf. Tour the Tuna Fishing Museum. We’ll have lunch there. Then pick up Billy. Be back in time to go to the cave.”
 “Let’s go.”
 That afternoon, while they treaded the path to the dory dock, she side, “Did you like the fried clams?”
 “Okay. The heads were chewy. Little trouble swallowing the stomachs. Unique taste.”
 “Outsiders say that. Billy, are you coming?”
 “Yeah, yeah,” he said from twenty feet behind, thumbing his Game Boy.
 In the dory, she fisted the oars, rowed. “Darn east wind. Storm coming. I can’t row at the same clip as yesterday.” 
Before two o’clock, Vincent and Shelby penetrated the cave in rapid steps to the rope’s knot.
 “The water is about a foot lower than yesterday at this time,” he said.
 “Still slippery.”
 “Sloping upward. A little.”
 “Do I see a glow up front?”
 They stopped.
 “Let’s switch our flashers off,” he said.
 “That’s light.”
 “Where is it coming from?”
 “Do you see a solid vertical edge, to the left? About twenty feet?”
 “Uh-huh.”
 “I think the tunnel turns,” she said.
 “Sure is. Let’s move before the tide starts to rise.”
 They stood at the corner. About fifteen feet away, a sliver of day seeped from the top. The cave’s bottom rose above the water.
 “I’ll call Billy before we make the turn,” she said.
 “Good idea.”
 She called.
 Vincent looked at his watch. “The tide is at ebb. It’ll start to rise. Let’s get going. Something wrapped my leg! A tentacle,” he said. “I can’t get my foot loose. It’s pulling me!”
 “Be still. Hold the rope. Let me flash down. Can’t see.”
 “It’s not letting go.”
 She took her helmet off. Stuck her face in the water, reached, freed his foot.
 “What was it?”
 “Roots.” She tasted the water. “It’s less salty than the sea. Must be an inland flow.”
 They stepped up, sat on flat granite.
 “The water is rising. Look where we notched,” he pointed.
 They panned their lights at the wall.
 “Do you see anything?” he said. “I see slime. Brown-green stuff.”
 She wiped a flat part of the rock. “There it is!” she said, her finger touching the wall next to vague scribbles.
 “Quick!” he said. “Get the note pad. Write it down. We have to get out of here.”
He looked up at the slit in the ceiling. “This goes outside.”
 Look!” she pointed at the edge of the rock. “A skull. Buried.” She brushed the dirt. The eye sockets appeared.
 “Forget it! Let’s go.”
 They grabbed the rope. Slid off the flat rock. Water rushing in, rising. At the corner, she called Billy. Told him that they were on their way out.
 Pulling on their lifeline to the outside, he said, “Darn it. Rising fast. Strong current.”
 “Water at mid chest.”
 “See light up front.”
 “Let’s speed up.”
 The phone rang.
 “Billy must see the water flowing in,” she said.
 “Can’t waste time. Keep going.”
 The phone kept ringing.
 “Water is seeping over my overalls,” he said.
 “Same here.”
 “Put the note pad under your helmet.”
 “My overall is filling.” Water slapped her nostrils.
 Under water, the cellular stopped ringing.
 “We’re just about there.” Saline bumped his lips.
 They heard Billy, “Shelby! Vincent! Shelby! Vincent!”
  “We hear you! We’re almost out!” Vincent said.
 Out, they made their way to the dory. Fell over the edge, draining water.
 “You guys scared me,” Billy said.
 Huffing, puffing, Vincent and Shelby sat up. “Scary,” she said. “Gross in there.”
 Vincent hacked seawater from his stomach. Spat overboard. “The current. Strong. Rapid gush.”
 “We got the markings,” she said.
 “Cool!” Billy said. 
Shelby lifted her helmet up. Held the pad in her hand.
 “Now we’ve to figure out what it says,” Vincent said. “Let’s go. Do you have strength to row, Shelby?”
 “Why do you asked?”
 “We’ll go see Ol’ Eagle tomorrow morning.”
Shelby oared the dory around. Headed toward her uncle’s dock, wind in her favor.
 After a shower, dressed in dry clothes, Vincent came in the kitchen. A few minutes later, Shelby joined them. They sat at the table. A whole fresh baked cod in a platter, mashed potatoes, vegetables, pickles, bread, and butter dwelled the table. They told Anne and Arthur of the adventure.
 “It was like we were in the esophagus of a huge beast, heading toward the stomach. The breeze through the crack sounded like heavy breathing. The enclosed sea vegetation emitted an alien odor. The slime,” Vincent said.
 “You guys took risk,” Arthur said. “As I said before, the currents at those rocks are strong. Especially at rising tide.”
 “In the morning, we’re going to see Ol’ Eagle,” Shelby said. “The markings are strange.” She showed her uncle.
 Ten o’clock the next morning she drove to Ol’ Eagle’s, on the Cape. “I hope he’s home.” She knocked on the door. No one came. “He’s deaf.” She banged harder. They heard footsteps. The Micmac indian opened the door.
 “Well if it isn’t Shelby Pothier. Come in.”
 “Mr. Eagle, this is Vincent. He’s from the United States.”
 “How do you do?”
 They shook hands.
 “Which state?” he said. 
 “Oklahoma.”
 “Land of the red man. Many tribes there. Survivors of the Trail of Tears.”
 “It used to be a territory. Reservation,” Vincent said.
 “What brings you to this country?”
 “His grandfather is Bill Boudreau. You remember him?” Shelby said.
 “Oh, yes. Cyriac’s son.”
 “Right.”
“We have the cave’s markings,” Vincent said.
 “What? The one across from here.” Ol’ Eagle pointed in the direction of Chebec’s woods. Closed the door. “How did you get it?”
 They told him.
“Sit at the table. I’ll get my glasses.”
 He lumbered back, putting his spectacles on. Sat down. “Let me see?”
 Shelby laid the sheet in front of him.
 “Mmm. Old script,” the old man said.
 Vincent gave him a clean sheet of paper and pencil.
 He started to scribble. The Micmac mumbled in his language while he wrote a word. Paused. His shaky fingers wrote another word, then another, and another. He scripted less than twenty-five ineligible words. He stopped. Dropped the pencil. “Here it is.”
 “What does it say! What does it say!” Shelby said. “We can’t read your writing.”
She and Vincent leaned closer. 
 Ol’ Eagle held the paper in his hand, adjusted the distance to suit his eyes.
 “The person who can read and doesn’t read is not better off than the person who doesn’t know how to read.”
 “Did Grandpa know the message?” Vincent said.
 They thank the old man and left.
 Saturday, at the Yarmouth airport, Shelby told Vincent that she’d enjoyed his visit. Before he turned to enter the plane, she embraced him, kissed him on the cheek. “Keep in touch.”
“Come and visit me in Oklahoma, someday.”
 
 
 

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