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David thought surely he was dead at fourteen. His uncle Owen, who had taught him about sailing safely, would be so angry. Owen had died only days ago, his last wish for David to take the FROG out on his own, and sail her beyond sight of the coast, and once there scatter Owen's ashes.
David had done this the evening before, but he hadn't thought of a storm roaring across the Pacific, or of the terror of being alone later in the dark hundreds of miles from home and his parents, alone with no radio or flares and little food. He hadn't thought of a shark attacking, or of the four killer whales, or the oil tanker large as a city about to sink him and the FROG. . . .
But in fact, David wasn't alone at all. He'd had the FROG as a partner from the first -- his uncle's guiding spirit. He had only to learn that.