Even before the new skipper came aboard the _Chippewa_ in the flour-covered pier in Superior, I knew that this trip was not going to be like other trips. During all the seasons that I had been a radio operator on the Great Lakes I had been hearing a strange tale about him. Rumors, like Lake Erie squalls, are stirred up in a hurry, and usually die down as quickly, but this one was different. It didn’t die. It drifted about with the wind from one end of the Lakes to the other, and windlike, it came first from one direction, then another. The first time I heard it was one fine day near the beginning of my first summer on the Lakes. We had been coasting down Lake Huron ahead of a stiff breeze a…
Or read it translated: 日本語 · 中文 · हिन्दी · Español · العربية · Français · বাংলা · Português · Русский · Bahasa Indonesia · اردو · Deutsch · Kiswahili · 한국어