#ShipWrecks

[illustratus]

Life Saving Patrol by Edward Moran

[ltwilliammowett]

Maryland's Mallows Bay, is a designated national marine sanctuary, has an intriguing history. This 18-square-mile park is filled with the remains of over 100 wooden, flat-bottom ships from World War I, making it the largest ship graveyard in the Western Hemisphere. Today, it is a wildlife oasis.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

so theres a lot of posts going round about the titanic wreck and the missing submarines; all of them that ive seen have made very good points about how shoddy the submersible seemed to be and how the company decided to wait eight hours before reporting it, and how this is a play stupid games, win stupid prizes for the ultra-wealthy who paid like 250grand a ticket for this thing.

but what i havent seen any posts about is how the titanic wreck is a gravesite and this tourism is disturbing the graves of over 1500 people.

sometimes its kinda hard to remember that those on the titanic were real people; it was over a century ago, the story has been romanticised in so many ways (like the movie), theres conspiracies theories galore that cloud everything with misinformation, but at the end of the day, those who died were real people.

do you want their names? heres a list of them; its a long read. and for fun, heres another site where you can see photos of the children and babies who died aboard.

their bodies are long gone and their lives long forgotten. all we have to remember them and honour them is the wreck itself. its all we have of them and it is their gravesite. its their tombstone.

caitlin doughty/ask a morticians video on the great lakes discusses the topic well, and why we should leave these shipwrecks alone because again, they are the gravesites of all the souls who died aboard those ships. we rarely have bodies to recover so we really are left just with the wreck.

and what really upsets me about titanic tourism is how the majority of those who died that night were not the ultra-wealthy rich folks you might picture when you think of ocean liners.

61% of the first class passengers survived

42% of the second class passengers survived

24% of the third class passengers survived

24% of the crew survived **

the majority of those who died that night were regular folk; not to be cliche, but they were just like us. titanics wreck is not only a gravesite for over 1500 people, its also a majority working class gravesite.

and look at us now. look at what were doing. the ultra-wealthy can pay the equivalent of peanuts to them to disturb a mass gravesite of the exact kind of people they exploit today to hold onto all their wealth. 

its easy to point and laugh at these dumb idiots in their playstation controller submarine, seemingly held together with super glue and duct tape, but its also important to remember that what they were doing was simply disturbing a gravesite for fun. though the company does research, these guys werent down there to conduct research, they were there so they could brag about it to their friends. its like “climbing mount everest” while your sherpa does all the work.

if you cant tell, i have a lot of feelings about this. shipwrecks and ocean liners are one of my special interests and im currently building a (beginner’s) model of the titanic, for fucks sake. but i would never go down to see that wreck because its a fucking gravesite and we should not be disturbing their final resting place.

[vivtanner]

Naufrage - artbook exploring shipwrecks found in different waters around the world. For all the Terror fans: it also contains HMS Terror & Erebus ⚓️

Available until Nov 14th on tannenbaumpress.com 🌊

[mapsontheweb]

Every ship that sunk during World War 2

[whencyclopedia]

According to UNESCO, an estimated three million shipwrecks are scattered in the oceans’ deep canyons, trenches, and coral reefs and remain undiscovered. These shipwrecks preserve historical information and provide clues about how people lived in the past. The term ‘underwater cultural heritage’ refers to traces of human existence and activity found on ancient sunken ships or retrieved cargo such as bronze statues and priceless artworks. The Spanish treasure galleon, Nuestra Señora de Atocha, is the world’s most valuable shipwreck, estimated to be worth over USD 400 million. It was part of the Tierra Firme fleet of 28 ships bound for Spain from Cuba in 1622 and carried the Spanish Empire's wealth onboard – creamy pearls from Venezuela, glittering Colombian emeralds, and over 40 tons of gold and silver. The Atocha sailed into a hurricane off the coast of Key West, Florida, and sank. Its riches were discovered in 1985 by famed treasure hunter Mel Fisher (1922-1998). Thanks to virtual exhibitions and tours, you do not need diving skills to explore the oceans’ underwater cultural heritage. You can take a panoramic tour of Henry VIII of England’s (r. 1509-1547) favourite ship, the carrack Mary Rose, which sank in the English Channel during the Battle of the Solent on 19 July 1545. Want to see a 2,700-year-old Phoenician shipwreck submerged in the central Mediterranean? The virtual museum ‘Underwater Malta’ has a 3D model of the ship and app on Google Play. Fascinated to know what the wealth of the Spanish Empire looked like? Take a tour of Mel Fisher’s virtual treasures and the Atocha. There are countless virtual maritime museum displays, but let us take a look at five shipwrecks with interesting stories to tell.

[grimm-the-tiger]

I made this post a little while ago listing some facts about shipwrecks that probably only I find interesting, so now I’m back to talk about some of them. Specifically, the Olympic. The Olympic was the namesake of the Olympic-class liners, whose most notable member was the Titanic. Out of the three Olympic-class ships - Titanic, Olympic, and Britannic - only one of them was actually unsinkable, and that was the Olympic. 

Over the more than 20 years of its existence, the Olympic was never once in real danger. The Olympic was the danger. On its fifth voyage in September 1911, Olympic was running parallel to the HMS Hawke, a British warship designed specifically for ramming things. Olympic suddenly turned to starboard (right side of the ship if you were facing towards its front), catching Hawke’s commanding officer off-guard; he wasn’t able to avoid the collision and ended up ramming the other ship. Olympic was left with a substantial hole beneath the water line (although flooding was for the most part averted due to its bulkheads actually working properly, *cough* Titanic *cough*) and a slightly less substantial hole above it. Hawke, meanwhile, had its entire bow caved in. Olympic made it back to port just fine under her own power, while Hawke almost capsized. Somehow, no one was seriously hurt or killed. 

Three fun facts about this situation: Violet Jessop, a woman famous for surviving the sinkings of both of the Olympic’s sister ships, was onboard the Olympic when this happened. This incident also reinforced the idea that the Olympic-class was unsinkable. The famous postponement of the Titanic’s maiden voyage also occurred because of this incident; a propeller shaft was damaged in the collision, they needed a new one ASAP, and, well, the Titanic was right there... 

Four years later, WWI broke out. The Olympic was requisitioned as a troop ship, given 6-inch naval guns, and sent on its way. In 1918, while travelling to France with a literal boatload of American soldiers, Olympic spotted U-103, a German U-boat chilling on the surface of the ocean. Olympic opened fire on U-103, which immediately crash dived to keep from dying, then turned to ram the U-boat. Olympic hit U-103′s conning tower and tore open the hull with its propellers. U-103′s crew decided “fuck this” and abandoned ship; Olympic didn’t bother to stop to pick them up, so a nearby American warship did instead. It was later found that U-103 was preparing to torpedo Olympic when they’d been spotted, but they couldn’t flood the torpedo tubes in time. Olympic remains the only merchant vessel in WWI recorded to have sunk an enemy vessel (which would become a more common occurrence during WWII, to the extent that the Nazis apparently tried and hanged at least one captured British merchant captain for ramming one of their U-boats. The Nazis were ones to talk, considering they rehired the man who sank the Carpathia and was notorious for war crimes that included things like “drowning surrendered enemy crews by forcing them to strip and stand on the roof of his submarine, then diving the submarine” and “attacking designated hospital ships that made it very obvious they were hospital ships”). 

Following WWI, while Olympic was being refit for civilian service, a sizeable dent was discovered below the waterline. It was later concluded to have been caused by a faulty torpedo, most likely fired by U-53 while the Olympic was travelling through the English Channel. 

Olympic collided with another, smaller ship, Fort St. George, in New York Harbor on March 22, 1924. There’s not much information on how badly Olympic fucked Fort St. George up, just that Olympic apparently fucked around a little too much and found out, because the collision broke its sternpost (support post in the back of the ship; think of it like a central pillar in a structure), forcing the entire stern frame to be replaced. 

On November 18, 1929, Olympic was cruising not far from the Titanic’s wreck site when the whole thing began shaking for two minutes. This was later found to have been caused by a 7.2 magnitude earthquake off the coast of Newfoundland. 

The Olympic’s last hurrah (and casualty) was on May 15, 1934, when it collided with the lightship LV-117. Olympic had known the lightship was in the area, but didn’t know where exactly it was until they were right on top of it. Olympic’s captain immediately ordered a hard turn and the engines slowed, so Olympic wasn’t moving particularly fast when it did hit LV-117 (about 3 and a half miles per hour), but Olympic was fucking huge, and the people onboard barely noticed when they practically crushed the lightship under them. Only four of the eleven crew aboard LV-117 survived; four went down with the ship and three died in Olympic’s hospital (yes, these things had hospitals; I told you there were fucking huge). 

Olympic was fully scrapped in 1937, forever going down in history as both the only Olympic-class ship that was actually unsinkable and the one with the longest reign of terror. Good God, man. I understand sinking the U-boat, but you didn’t need to bring like four other ships down with you. 

[soulinkpoetry]

You tell me about your shipwrecks and I’ll tell you about mine.

.

.

[theartingace]

today's drawtober got WILDLY out of hand while pondering my headworld's mermaids- the most common and well known of the true shapeshifters in the world. They are respected and feared for that power- though they mostly use it to play tricks and con unsuspecting townies out of baubles for funzies 🥰

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 5 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

Summary: The Essex sinks and the crew is forced to test their luck. As Matthew's luck begins to run out, he waits for his Siren to save him.

Warnings: Shipwreck, thalassophobia, stranded at sea, abandonment, and drowning. This is a long installment but it is also the last installment of the series! Thank you for bearing with me. I think the end makes it worth it. I've been really busy so I apologize for the quality of this piece. It's sad... sorry.

word count: 3174k

Last Goodbye- Jeff Buckley 🎶

I Know the End- Pheobe Bridgers 🎵

Fear Not This Night- Clamavi De Profundis 🎶

Not proofread, sorry folks!

“Absolutely not, that is OUT of the question!” Captain Pollard slammed his pale fist against the table. “We cannot alter our course just because my second-mate says so.” 

“With all due respect sir, I believe it would be a death-sentence for our crew to chase the storm just to track down a whale that seems to have something against you,” Matthew’s lip curled as he tried to keep his composure. 

“I am the captain of this vessel, not you Joy. I’d like to remind you of that fact.” 

“It is a fair observation, sir. The men are all worried about the true intentions behind this choice,” Owen piped up from the corner of the room. 

“I don’t take orders from either of you, do you understand?” Captain Pollard’s voice was harsh as his tongue crushed against his teeth. He raised an authoritative eyebrow and Matthew swallowed. 

“I have reason to believe that this will only lead to disaster, sir. It is my job to speak on behalf of my experience and the lives of the men under my command-”

“And WHO, Joy, is under my command?” The captain leaned forward and clasped his hands together. The lantern above their heads swayed. 

Matthew met his eyes and clenched his jaw. Y/N’s warning swirled around in his memory like a tidal pool. How could he balance respect with advocacy? He had to talk some sense into the Captain before it was too late. 

“Answer my question, second-mate.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. 

Matthew unfocused his eyes on the man and swallowed down everything that he would have liked to say. 

“We are, sir.” 

“That is exactly right, Joy, and as captain I command you and the rest of my men to chase the storm. It will dissipate soon and in that time, we will have the whale.”

The lantern sailed across the room, smashing against the wall of the ship. The wick’s fire lay exposed and set some of the floor on fire. Before Matthew could throw anything on the fire to quell it, the ship jerked once again. The men scrambled to stay upright, their eyes met each others’ in the dark. 

“What the hell was that?” Captain Pollard asked breathlessly, fear showing in his tone. 

“That wasn’t a wave,” Owen whispered. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Matthew didn’t have to say the word whale. They all knew. 

…

Matthew grabbed his coat on the way up to the deck. Men ran around him, shouting orders and carrying rope. The harpooners prepared their weapons and watched from the railing. The shiny white back of the whale slipped below the surface a few yards out, its tail flicked up into the air and slammed down on the side of the boat. Matthew was knocked off of his feet and rolled, cringing from his sore back. Part of the sail and railing fell into the ocean below, men scrambled to stay onboard and not be dragged down with the debris. He watched helplessly as the boat started to break apart beneath his feet. 

“Everyone get to the boats! Grab as many supplies as you can in case we need to abandon ship!” Matthew yelled. Owen reached his friend and grabbed onto Matthew’s collar. 

“We need to get off this ship, Joy. If we stay here much longer we will have to go down with her.”

“Take your men and I’ll take mine.” 

“We need to wait for Pollard’s orders.”

“Fuck his orders, come on.” 

Matthew ran to the railing and helped loosen the ropes holding the smaller whaling boats to the deck. Men dropped food and drinking water into the bottom of the boat as the ship groaned and splintered beneath their feet. 

There was a deafening explosion at the stern of the Essex, a plume of fire rose into the air. The men were silenced by the violence and panted, watching the fire catch quickly and begin to burn. 

“She hit the oil canisters! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” Pollard tripped across the debris-ridden deck of the sinking ship. 

Pollard, Owen, and Matthew each manned a boat and organized the men into the whaling boats before they were lowered into the water. The ship burned quickly. The explosion had killed many of the sailors who had been standing on the deck. They were already a dwindled crew by the time they pushed off from the ship and rowed to a safe distance away. Matthew watched with watery eyes as the Essex sank in a fiery blaze. 

…

They’d been on the boats for hours and the late afternoon sun was baking them alive. They’d connected their boats together in an effort to share supplies and keep an eye on each other. Matthew tried to push his fury and genuine shock down so that his men couldn’t see it. The whole event had only lasted an hour, ridiculously short. Everything that they’d owned went down with the whaling ship, friends too. 

Matthew wiped sweat from his brow and tried not to glower at Owen and Pollard who spoke to each other out of his earshot. He looked down at his hands which were starting to turn red in the direct sunlight. The men in his boat were slouched against one another or lying at the very bottom between the slats. He caught himself thinking about that night he’d taken the Siren for the first time. Memories of fleeting risk seemed like child’s play in comparison to life-and-death decisions the sinking had prompted from everyone. 

He looked out at the infinite expanse of water and tried to call her to his mind, they’d done as much before when he was drowning. Surely she could see him now, surely she would do something to help them. She knew something like this would happen, she’d warned him about it. He hadn’t even had time to try to avoid the disaster, it all seemed so unfair…

The boat beside him splashed up and down abruptly. Matthew caught his breath and watched as the bottom of the boat slapped the surface of the water as it returned to its first position. Everyone froze. 

“It’s back,” Matthew whispered and as he did, the water beside him burst up into a fountain of waves. A great big eye and white blubber body surged up into the sky above him and tumbled inches away from the boats. 

“Disconnect the fucking boats!” Matthew ordered and cut the ropes holding the boats together. Being connected made them a larger target and a weaker link. Every sailor pushed away and soon the four boats were separated by yards of messy waves. 

The whale emerged again, this time boring into Matthew’s boat. Matthew fell back as the boat broke down the middle and men went flying. He fell into the water and pushed away from the boat so he wouldn’t get caught. Air bubbles escaped from his mouth as he opened his eyes underwater. He could see the whale swimming through the wreck, knocking men out of its path or pushing them deeper. Matthew swam to the surface and whipped his head around to clear the hair from his face. The men in the other boats were aiming their harpoons at the vulnerable side of the beast. Matthew grabbed a hold of a barrel of water to keep himself afloat. Some of his men began to resurface but most did not. Those that did each found a piece of floating debris and watched as the other men tried to kill the whale. 

Matthew’s heart was beating a mile a minute and he couldn’t catch his breath. He watched as the back of the whale’s fin rose high into the sky above them, blocking the sun, and then down it went onto one of the other boats, breaking a second one. The wave created by the tail scattered the men even farther apart and sent Matthew spiraling out of control. His head slammed against the side of Owen’s boat and knocked him unconscious. 

“Kill it! Kill it!” Captain Pollard nearly screeched, blood dripping from a cut on his lip. 

…

Matthew came-to on Owen’s boat, nestled between people’s legs. 

“Joy?” Owen’s voice pulled him from his dreamless sleep. Matthew blinked behind his eyelids and tried to speak but his throat was dry. He licked his cracked lips. 

“Howw… how bad is it?” Matthew groaned and went to touch the back of his head. 

Owen swallowed and looked back at the men in the boat. 

“It’s really not that bad, Joy. It’s just a little bleeding and some bruising. You’ll be fine.” 

Matthew didn’t feel fine. Things didn’t seem right. For instance, the men around him looked more scruffy than they had the day before. They looked older and sickly. He furrowed his brow and looked around the boat.

“You were out for a few days. I mean you woke up multiple times but you weren’t actually aware.” Owen admitted. 

“Days?” Matthew repeated softly and Owen nodded. Matthew tried to sit up but his head began to pound painfully. He raised his hands in front of his face to block the aggressive glare of the sun. 

“Try not to move, you need to recover.” Owen straightened the blanket over his friend. 

“The sun…” Matthew groaned and his voice broke. His mouth was horribly dry and tasted like dried blood. 

“I know but the sun will set soon. Just close your eyes.” Owen tried to block the sun with his shoulders and the shade was a welcome relief for Matthew. He began to fall asleep again, rapidly losing his ability to stay awake and aware. 

“Owen…” he whispered, “did she come back… for me?” 

Owen’s face began to blur as Matthew fell asleep. He didn’t stay awake long enough to hear his response. 

…

When Matthew woke up again he was being half-dragged and half-carried through the water. He flailed about between the arms of his savior. 

“Joy! Stop that.” Owen’s voice reprimanded him. Matthew looked up. Instead of his friend, he saw a scraggly man with an unkempt beard and foul smelling clothes. 

“Owen?” Matthew garbled and Owen chuckled weakly. 

“Do I really look that bad? Well I hate to break it to you but you don’t look so good yourself.” 

“Don’t beat me while I’m down, Owen.” Matthew tried to laugh but started to cough. He was too weak to cough and grimaced instead.

“Where are we?” Matthew asked as Owen rearranged him in his arms. 

“We spotted land this morning.”

“Are we home?”

“No, we found an island. It’s not much but it’s land.” Owen stepped onto the solid beach and lowered Matthew to the ground against a tree. 

“Stay here, I’m going to help the others look for shelter and food.” Owen patted Matthew on his hollow chest. Matthew smirked and nodded. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Matthew laughed softly. 

“You still have your sense of humor, good.” Owen limped away with a small group of similarly starved men. Matthew could only imagine what he looked like. He raised his hands to feel his hair and then his face. He had a long beard and sun blisters buried deep in his face. His hands shook as he moved them to his lap.

His eyes rested on the shore where the bright blue water swept out upon the beach. He could feel himself whispering her name beneath his breath like a prayer. Had she protected them this entire time? Had she ensured that they would find land? 

Where was she now? Matthew closed his eyes and knew he’d be crying if wasn’t so dehydrated. 

“Water… I need water…��� Matthew tried to call out. One of the sailors sprawled out on the sand, sat up and patted his pockets for a canteen.

“Here, sir.” The sailor offered Matthew his half-empty canteen and unscrewed the cap for him. Matthew took the bottle with shaking hands and raised the bottle to his lips. He took a few small sips and sighed. Even though he wanted to drink the whole bottle, he forced himself to return the container to the young man with blisters across his face. 

“Thank you,” Matthew nodded and leaned his bloody head back against the tree. “How long has it been since the Essex sank?”  

The young boy raised his head in surprise and furrowed his brow. 

“About two weeks, sir.” 

“Did… did a woman or… a siren find us before we got here?” Matthew struggled to ask. The boy darted his eyes away in discomfort before answering. 

“Um no, sir.” 

Matthew closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t have the energy to explain to the boy what he meant. In his head he could see the girl again. Her beautiful green eyes glowed in the darkness of his mind and his hands could feel her soft body. 

“Y/N…” he whispered and fell asleep. 

…

“So you’re leaving?” Matthew clarified and Owen nodded. 

“A group of us are going to try to find the mainland.”

“I want to stay. I wouldn't make the trip and we both know that. The men who want to stay can stay with me.” Matthew looked up at the ceiling of the cave they had found away from the beach. They had been on the island for a week now and were running out of food. 

“I’ll tell the men. If we make it back to land… we’ll come back and get you. We’ll come back for you, understand?” 

Matthew nodded and gestured to the men chatting outside in the dark, a fire burning between them. Owen left the cave but his voice carried back to Matthew as he informed the men of their proposed plan. Questions arose from the sailors and Matthew tried to keep himself from sobbing as he accepted the truth:

The Siren had not been back. She had not come when he needed her and he realized then that she never would. She had warned him since the beginning not to trust her but he had. Tears slipped down his face and triggered a headache. His head was bandaged with clean make-shift bandages but the wound still hurt. He cradled his face in his hands and rested his palms against his legs. 

I hate you, Matthew thought. I loved you and you betrayed me. 

…

They left the following day and Matthew was left alone with four other men. They sat in the cave all together and withered away in silence. 

…

A few nights later, Matthew awoke with a start and gasped silently. It had been over a month since the Essex went down. The cave was dark and the sounds of the men sleeping surrounded him. He looked around as best as he could and whimpered softly into the darkness. 

Fear not this night, you will not go astray

Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Awaken from a quiet sleep

Hear the whispering of the wind

Awaken as silence grows 

In the solitude of the night

The song reached his ears from far beyond the mouth of the cave, stilling him. He stopped whimpering and fell quiet to hear the haunting music. The woman’s voice was alone, unaccompanied by other voices or music. She sounded like a child singing as she finished a chore. It was a pure and comforting sound that drew Matthew to his knees. He pulled himself up to his feet and grasped the moist walls as he stumbled out. 

The island air was warm and dry around him as his feet reached the sand. He could hear the waves crashing against the beach but the sounds of animals were abnormally absent. He walked further out into the dark, hugging his jacket around his dying body. 

Darkness spreads through all the land and your weary eyes open silently

Sunsets have forsaken all the most far off horizons

Fear not this night, you will not go astray. 

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away. 

And there in the distance, the horizon was starting to lighten as the sun would rise in the following hours. In the meantime, the beach was still dark. Matthew felt his feet carry him to the shoreline where the sand pulled against his ankles. He looked out at the water and forgot why he was there at all. Was he dreaming?

Distant sounds of melodies calling through the night to your heart

He took a few more steps where the water reached his calves. Two hands reached out and touched his scarred face and he flinched away. The hands returned and held his hollow cheeks gently. 

“Matthew,” the voice whispered sweetly but he couldn’t see who was speaking. 

“Who are you?” Matthew whimpered and tried to pull away from the strange hands which were not his own. “Are you an angel of heaven?” 

“Has it really been that long that you’ve forgotten my touch?” 

“I’ve forgotten my own. Who are you?” He asked again, his eyebrows furrowed with suspicion. 

“It’s me, sailor. Your Siren.” Y/N rubbed her thumbs over Matthew’s bulging cheekbones, tears ran down his face without his knowledge. Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head weakly. 

“No, no. She left me weeks ago. I’m dying.” He took a step back but the current caught his heels. 

“Look at me, Matthew. It’s me. I’ve come to take you home.”

Matthew opened his eyes slowly and his lips fell apart. His eyes adjusted in the dark, finally revealing a woman’s familiar face framed in dark hair. She was naked so she appeared to be a star glowing in the dark. 

“It’s not possible. Why would you come back now?” Matthew whispered, his voice breaking. More tears filled his eyes and he tried to control the sobs that threatened him. 

“I never left you, Matthew, but I didn’t know what I could do. I can’t change fate.”

“So this was my fate?” Matthew laughed darkly. He reached out to pet her hair and sniffed. 

“Yes, I couldn’t intervene.”

“I thought you had abandoned me,” Matthew sobbed and curled her hair in his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry, Matthew…”

“But why are you here now?” Matthew trailed his fingers up and down her neck absentmindedly. 

“Like I said, I’ve come to take you home.”

“You were singing…” Matthew noted and stepped closer. The girl cupped his face again and looked up into his bloodshot eyes. 

“I’m singing for you, sailor.” 

She kissed his cheek and reached for his hands. Going slowly, she walked backwards into the sea, singing. Matthew followed her blindly, his mind captured by her ballad and the magical glow in her eyes. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to smile through her song. 

Though the shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Life your voice with the first light of dawn 

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away

Hope’s just a sunrise away

Matthew’s head dipped below the surface and the water consumed him. The song continued in his head as Y/N carried him to his death, ending his suffering and burying the dead.

[illustratus]

Saving Castaways by Franciszek Ksawery Lampi

[ltwilliammowett]

The three masted ship Cromdale (1891) off Bass Point and the three-masted barque Gunvor (1895) on the rocks at Pedn Boar, near Coverack, photographed by Gibson & Sons of Scilly, 1912-13

[macleod]

An estimated 50,000 shipwrecks can be found around the UK’s coastline and have been acting as a hidden refuge for fish, corals and other marine species in areas still open to destructive bottom towed fishing, a new study has shown.

Many of these wrecks have been lying on the seabed for well over a century, and have served as a deterrent to fishers who use bottom towed trawling to secure their catches. As a result, while many areas of the seabed have been damaged significantly in areas of heavy fishing pressure, the seabed in and around shipwrecks remains largely unblemished.

The new research found that the average density of marine life in areas still open to trawling was 240% greater within wreck sites than in sites actively being used for bottom towed fishing. In parts of the seabed within a 50m radius of the wrecks, the difference was even greater with the density of marine life 340% greater than in the control sites.

Source: University of Plymouth via EurekAlert, Nov. 23rd, 2023

[suburbanscrimshaw]