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A woman's spirit still resides on the mystic shores of Flinders Island.
Her children's voices are still heard in the tumble of the surf where they once made footprints in the sand.
You can hear her motherly soothing words in the sighs of the Sheoaks and the whispers of the wind moving across the beach.
Her soul is still there, her boys still run along the shallows.
Each morning the sun rises out of the cliffs and sets across Merindah's island where seals still lay in the sun, and you can hear whales slapping their tales on the waves.
Strange shapes in those yellow cliffs look toward the place where a woman's courage became legend.