The revenue cutter lay at anchor in the harbor with almost no one aboard. Her skipper died the day before from a heart attack. Most of her crew was ashore on leave, yucking it up at the local taverns.
It was still dark. The only other things moving about were hardcore runners on the Back Cove trail and mosquitoes buzzing around my noggin.
A massive wave lifted the ship clean out of the water. The forward third broke off and sank to the bottom.
She was very seasick, the whole way.