Shipwreck Novels Novels & Stories

Beatrice perched on the sofa opposite, leaning forward in anticipation. “Me an’ Agnes dug deep an’ uncovered a sorry tale, make no mistake,” Maud said quietly. “The ship was called The Raven. A galleon that sank off the coast of Ashby-on-Sea in 1588. Captain was a fella by the name of Jackson Crane. A God-fearin’ man, like many around them times. Maybe that explains why folk did what they did, but havin’ a reason don’t make everythin’ ye do in life right.” Beatrice frowned. “What do you mean?”

At port one night, heard of the ghost ship along with some other things. Captain Shane Reynolds once was the most feared pirate on the seven seas and most days, he still was. However, there was another pirate whose name was more feared than his own and he vowed to hunt him down. Problem was, no one has ever lived to tell the tale of Captain Reddick of the White Wolf. A few letters had been found telling of a deserted ship. The only life on board is a woman chained and blindfolded in the captain’s cabin. The girl is always rescued, but the ship was now notorious for being a ghost ship. Shane scoffed at this, he didn’t believe in the supernatural. He just figured it was an ugly and disfigured

“Yeah. Big sidewheel steamboat. Wasn’t there a fire or something?” Roo nodded again. “One of the biggest maritime disasters in U.S. history. In 1865, the ship was traveling from St. Louis to New Orleans, carrying way too many people. Paroled Civil War vets, mostly. She exploded outside of Memphis—over a thousand people were killed.” “Hell, I didn’t know that,” said Curtis. “What does this ship have to do—?” “I’m getting there, big guy,” said Roo. “The damn thing burned to the waterline. Bodies everywhere. It was a mess.”

This fact had been the undoing for some who had clutched too long to their cargo and would not let go. Of all of a sailor’s fears, shipwreck and pirate invasion were the worst. Both had the capacity to steal away lives and property, the former being more dangerous than the second, for in that case, the entire boat was lost. The latter was more painful as it is something that could be easily avoided. It causes great pain when you see your fellow man take away what you have just because he has a gun in hand and you don’t. *******

They were connected by precarious rope bridges and zip-lines. And in the center of the archipelago lay the Pirate Capital: Scrimshaw. It was a city built of shipwrecks. Hulls of old galleons were stacked on top of each other to form towers. Masts served as streetlamps. It was a chaotic, beautiful mess of lanterns and noise. "Scrimshaw," Vane announced. "Home sweet hellhole." He turned the ship toward the main harbor. It was crowded with vessels—sloops, schooners, and even a few stolen Imperial frigates.

Having been an invisible presence at home for ten years, I watch Mom and Dad hand me the only life ring as the cruise ship sinks, while they vanish into the ocean depths. Christian Gunn, my distant brother, desperately pushes me toward the shore until his body is completely frozen stiff by the icy seawater. He flashes a smile of relief and says, "Mom, Dad, and I have always regretted bringing you back to the Gunn family. If we hadn't, Freya would still be by our side. If there's a next life, please don't bother our family ever again." I watch his complexion turn increasingly pale before he closes his eyes forever. I can hear a rescue boat roaring nearby, but I smile wryly and, without a

And beyond it was a stern, also well furnished. Rodrick I'd hmm up to the loft and next to it, above the entertainment room was a library. "I made sure to get the books you asked for." Said. the captain leading them into the room filled with books. "Luckily, we were able to save it from the shipwreck." The captain picked two books from the table. "Captains Alaric and Cedric's diaries." He said handing it to them. Roland took Aleric's and Cornelia took Cedric's. They read desperately through the pages like they were robots scanning and intruder. The words sea dweller seemed to be haunting them as well as making them crazy.

And in between Wrecks. Gigantic cargo ships, aircraft carriers and submarines in the Old World Centuries had fallen to the bottom when the sea evaporated. They were perfectly preserved from salt, rusted monuments of a long forgotten era. “We are in Marianengraben,” Silas whispered and stared at his flickering pad. “The signal comes directly from the deepest gap before us. Two more miles.” Suddenly the seismic Pochen changed. The regular morse signal set out. Instead, the entire salt bottom vibrated under our chains in one

we said, our voices speaking as one. ​The ocean became a landscape of fire. One by one, the iron ships were consumed by their own hunger, their boilers exploding and their hulls sinking into the red surf. The black smoke filled the air, turning the morning into a second, darker night. ​The Southern King’s pride was being unmade by a girl and her shadow, standing on a beach with nothing but their love and a pack of wolves. ​The silence that followed was absolute. The only sound was the crackling of the burning wrecks and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. The Iron Fleet was gone. The South had been broken.