At sunset we sailed out of Marseille in the shadow of the majestic Cathedrale Sainte-Marie-Majeure, more comfortable and relaxed than when my great grandfather left the port. My best guess is he didn’t stay long in Marseille, or anywhere, being pursued by authorities for escaping a fortress monastery in Alverno, Italy.

He was a Franciscan friar sentenced to serve time on that remote Tuscan mountaintop to cleanse him of the sin of falling in love with a young maid. But he made his way back to Cork, Ireland, where he found her, and they sailed away, excommunicated by Rome, married in America.

As the sun sat on the beautiful barrier islands, I thanked my great grandfather for being persistent.

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