Shipwreck and sailing ship across a back

Old Maud Pellow kept the light on the Teeth, that scatter of black rocks off the western cape. She saw the Tessaly come in under a torn sail, listing hard to port, her foremast gone and the mainmast leaning like a drunk on a fence. Her crew had cut the rigging loose to stop her rolling, and the ropes trailed off her sides like weed. Maud lit the oil lamp and rang the bell until her arms gave out, and still the captain drove her onto the reef.

A smaller boat, the Wren, had already gone onto the stones the night before, her hull hooked fast like a fish bone. Maud rowed out with her grandson pulling the oars beside her. They found three sailors clinging to the wreck, and one of them was the captain, who swore he had never seen those rocks in his life. Maud told him the Teeth had been waiting since before the kings had names, and that was the end of his lies.

Here is the part you will tell your children. The captain paid Maud in gold for her trouble, and she took it, and bought herself a fishing boat with the money. But every storm since, the Tessaly's broken mast has been seen above the reef, pointing at the cloud where the rain is born. Maud said the sea keeps its accounts and never forgets a debt. Now drink your ale, and mind the lamp.