Explore "A Son of the Sea" by John Arthur Barry on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
JUST a fortnight after the gale, the Aniwa lay at rest in a land-locked lagoon. All around were coco palms and pandanus trees. Nowhere near Makoora was there any high land in view. Indeed, over the tops of the trees, away outside, were visible tops of more trees, looking, so flat and low were the islands, as if they grew directly out of the water.
But a long way off could be seen the dim hazy blue of hilly Banabon and Nawado. Just in front of the brig was a native village, compact, each house adjoining its neighbour in a half circle. A little further along shone the white buildings of a mission station and a church. Atolls everywhere, and none more than twenty feet above sea level.