6
“You’re shitting me.” In two years of flying rescue along the Columbia Bar and a couple hundred miles of seashore to the north and south, Ham had never had occasion to come so close to Silver Cave.
Though the cove lay just south of the resort town of Cannon Beach, it was almost wholly inaccessible. The cliffs offered no landside entry, and the sea was filled with boat-ripping rocks. On a calm day, it was a beautiful place. Steep cliffs over a hidden beach. Sometimes there was sand, but in the winter the beach was big cobbles and rocks.
Just off the jagged point, a small sea mount had been cut off from the land. It sat prettily, like the period on an exclamation point. Tenacious conifers formed a small green crown on the hard rock.
At low tide, it was connected to the land by a wash o
