The Monastery

From the story titled THE LIGHTHOUSE: Roar! Crash! My face was in the wet sand and I spit out saltwater and the raft was covering me in the white foam of the wave. Blessed sand! I kissed the sand. I scrambled as fast as I could to get away from the ocean and waves, up on the deep dry sand. The sun was shining. I've lost everything, my investment, my boat. I looked north and saw the each ended with jagged rocks, jetting out into the water. I looked south and saw the sartling image of my life: a man, an American man, wearing headphones sweeping the beach with a metal detector, like on the beach in San Diego. I saw the man before he saw me. He was looking down. When he looked up he froze in his track. He pulled off the headset and dropped it, along with his metal detector and ran towards me. "My God, man,! Where did you come from? How did you get here?" "I lost my boat. My boat caught fire and sank. There's my life raft" and I pointed back towards the surf. "Who are you? How did youi get here, of all places? I asked, increduloously. "My wife and I camp here. Our motor home is back about a mile. We're treasure hunters after the gold lost in these waters when the Spanish Galleons sank. The treasures we find, not a lot, but we do fe\ind 'em, is our hobby, our income and our retirement life." He continued by asking, "Do you have a lucky charm or something? This open beach is less thaat 2 miles wide. It's enclosed by rocky dangerous rocks and cliffs. How did you know to land right here?" I replied, "I didn't know. I only followed the light from the lighthouse." "My friend, there is no operating lighthouse or navigational aide withing 40 miles of this beach."