About the book: 1951 / "Among the cold waves, far from land, we waited every evening for the fog to creep in. He crawled over and we, McDunn and I, greased the brass bearings and turned on the lantern at the top of the stone tower. McDunn and I, two birds in the gloomy sky... The red beam... the white... again the red one searched for lonely ships in the fog. But if they don’t see the beam, we still have a Voice - the mighty low voice of our Howler; it tore, loud, through the rags of fog, and the frightened seagulls scattered like tossed playing cards, and the waves reared up, hissing with foam…»