Chapter EightATLANTIC OCEAN
MARCH 1914
29 August 1874 This morning before breakfast I went away with the second mate, bear shooting; we shot three… we were away from the ship forty minutes only.
Thomas T Macklin, Journal of a Voyage to Davis Strait aboard SS Narwhal 1874
'Sweet Christ and all his angels!' Soutar could only stare at the gleaming pyramid of canvas that had appeared out of nowhere and was now thrusting silently toward us. 'It's a ghost ship, that's what it is!'
For a moment I felt the small hairs at the back of my neck prickle, but I shook away the irrational fear. 'It's only another ship,' I tried to appear calm. 'Alter course and we'll avoid her. Anyway, the Flying Dutchman's off the Cape of Good Hope, not in the North Atlantic.'
'There's more than one ghost ship on t
