The call to the sea was like a persistent itch that Sam could never relieve. Frodo had told him to be one and whole, and he tried, but the sigh and murmur of the waves that entered his heart at the Havens would not be silenced. Come to me, it whispered, again and again, sometimes under the bright summer sun as he worked in the garden, sometimes in the deep of night while he slept. He couldn't answer that summons, not yet, but one day Sam knew he would and gladly.

For the voice of the sea was Frodo's voice.