Mosquitoes of Summer by Julianna Kozma Read Free Book Online

Newfoundland. Maybe she came here too. You never know!”
    “Hannah, you’re babbling,” cautioned Lucy, the calm and analytical one of the bunch, as their parents caught up with them. “Get a hold of yourself. This isn’t a pirate ship. But maybe it’s one of those tall ships that came looking for the New World.”
    “Actually, Mr. Rousseau from the museum told us that he suspects this piece may have broken loose following erosion near a breakwater in Cavendish,” explained Roger. Lucy’s dad was like a walking encyclopedia, but with a great sense of humour. “The violence of the April storm was the last straw and the wreck was finally pulled off its resting place. Then it got caught up in the immense currents of the sea.
    “Storms are a part of life here on the island, and there is a good chance we might see more artifacts like this coming ashore,” he continued. “This piece probably came from a ship that was lost at sea during the Yankee Gale. A hundred years ago there was no regulated PEI fishing industry like today. Back then anyone could come from anywhere and fish here, and then take away whatever they hauled in. A fleet of American boats was fishing off the waters of the island when the storm came in, crushing them.”
    Hannah remembered reading somewhere that one of the most tragic of all marine disasters in PEI was the Yankee Gale of 1881. On the afternoon of Friday, October 3rd, the weather was ideal. The cold had not yet set in and the sea was calm. As the day came to an end however, local islanders began to worry. Skies to the north and north-west began to darken ominously and a violent gale arose.
    Much to the horror of everyone, this wind stuck around for two days. By the time it abated, over 100 boats from the New England fishing fleet were destroyed or damaged, and hundreds of people were reported dead or missing. Many of the area’s graveyards became the final resting place for the dead sailors.
    The August Gale was another fierce storm that swept the area on August 24, 1873. Within a few hours the evening temperature dropped from a comfortable 21 degrees Celsius to a chilly 8 degrees. Along with the cold came violent winds and heavy rains. The sea was a mess, and once again many boats and lives were lost.
    It was hard for the girls to imagine that the sea in which they swam could be so dangerous. The horrors of death were so remote to them. Shipwrecks happened to someone else, long ago, and were exciting. Still, Hannah was troubled as she gazed down at the scarred hull of the boat. Living people actually fished on this boat, just like she did when she went deep-sea fishing with her dad. Hannah struggled to understand her sudden sadness, but it seemed so complicated.
    As the grownups continued talking about the past, Lucy told her friends to follow her. Once out of earshot, she whispered, “We need to make a closer examination of this wreck. See that opening to your left? That’s where I crawled in. Go in and take a look once the parents leave.”
    Hannah nodded, took off her backpack, snapped open its top and rooted around inside. A few seconds later her hand came out holding a small flashlight that she could wrap around her forehead. This would leave her hands free to explore without the struggle of a flashlight. They waited … and waited … and waited some more …. Grownups sure could talk a lot.
    Ages later, Meg ran off after a seagull, and the adults followed the wayward dog. With not a minute to lose, the girls bounded back to the boat and Hannah crawled inside. The sand underneath her hands was still damp, and pieces of seaweed got caught in her fingers. Shaking them off, she continued to make her way forward. Coming to the end of the road, she turned on her headlight.
    “Ouch!”
    “Are you OK, Hannah?” asked a nervous Emily. She always worried when Hannah got hurt. Her parents thought that was a good sign that she was actually capable of a bit of compassion!
    After the murky