With the coming of dawn, she could discern through the gloom a ship stranded a short distance offshore, with enormous waves breaking over her, freezing as they fell. In the rigging which protruded above the waves clung the half-frozen crew of eight men. Immediately Abigail built a huge bonfire of driftwood on the beach to give courage to the sailors. Then she waded out as far as possible in the surf. Beckoning to the men she tried to make them under stand that she knew the way and could guide them to safety. She prepared to attempt their rescue despite the fact that she herself could not swim.

First to make the break was Captain Hackett, who pulled off his coat and shoes and plunged into the water. The waves carried him down the beach some distance and he was fast becoming exhausted when Abigail waded out to him through the boiling surf and dragged him to safety. One by one the crew followed their captain. Several of them were nearly unconscious by the time they were helped to shore. Food and warmth provided in the Becker cabin restored their ebbing strength. Only one crew member, the cook, who could not swim remained in the ships rigging overnight. Next day when the storm had abated, the crew brought him ashore more dead than alive.

The storm raged for four days and food became very scarce before Trapper Becker could return with supplies from Port Rowan. But the crew was well taken care of by Abigail Becker, to whom they were so deeply grateful. It is worthy of note that she did not consider that she had done anything remarkable. Some years afterward she told her story in an interview, which typifies her innate modesty:

"Yes, the day was bitterly cold when I rescued the sailors. In the early hours of the morning I heard the cracking of torn sails in the wind. Hastening to the shore, I soon sighted the vessel and the men  in the rigging. I waded out into the breakers and signalled them to jump in and swim and I would help them. One at a time, they did so and I clutched each half frozen man and dragged him through the terrible breakers to shore.

"I helped them to the fire on the beach and, then to our cabin. To one I gave my shawl and to another my shoes to protect his partly frozen feet. Barefooted I worked on, my clothes frozen like iron upon me. Throughout the day the rescue work continued until by nightfall seven of them were safely ashore. But the other poor fellow, the cook, could not swim and had to remain another long night in the rigging. By the next morning the sea had subsided and there he was, lashed to the rigging to prevent the waves from washing him away. With the aid of a raft we succeeded in rescuing him. He was so fearfully frozen that he had to stay several weeks with us before he was able to go home.

"I only did my duty as any other would have done. I did not desire that my name should be honoured this way in the world. I insisted that Captain Hackett should not tell of it. He afterwards told me that he had to, and so it got out.�