He had been too agitated to sleep. The ship had passed through the rough Bay of Seals, safely and well before the autumn storms came, rounded the precipitous Grey Cliffs headlands, with its fires burning on the hilltop; passed the light towers at the rocky shoals of Widow's Watch, and at Oldcastle. Who tended those flames throughout the night, he wondered. By break of dawn, he could see the lights of the port city of White Harbour appear as the cold coastal fog began to lift with the sun. And soon after he could hear the helmsman relaying the captain's instructions, shouting for the crew to prepare for anchor and landing, the crowded city quiet now, but bustling by the morn.