Sheryl came forward eagerly. “Yes, what can I help you with?”
“I’m here to learn more about theSpecter’s Bounty. Do you have any documents or related artifacts?”
The woman chuckled but with a warm smile. “Of course. We have an entire section dedicated to that more recent deserted vessel.” She led Cressida and Braden to a far back corner.
To his way of thinking, the local ghost ship story should be front and center.
Sheryl stood next to the photographs of locals and their tales, some handwritten. A photograph or two of the vessels in the fog, like the photograph Remi had taken that was up at the lodge.
“Endeavor Spirit?” Cressida read the name, then looked to Sheryl for an explanation.
“Yes. Connected to theSpecter’s Bounty. Begin here for the full story. Built in 1980 for the Harborstone Shipping Company as a state-of-the-art salvage ship. You can read all the details, but I’ll skip to the high points since we’re closing in ten minutes. Normally, I’d stay late, but—”
“Oh, please, we won’t keep you. I can always come back tomorrow. I might come back every day this week.”
“I appreciate it. I have to babysit my grandbabies.” Sheryl’s smile was heartfelt. She turned serious again and continued with her practiced spiel. “TheEndeavor Spiritwas sold to a private shipping company that supposedly was tied to organized crime. Smuggling goods. Weapons. Pharmaceuticals.”
“Oh no.”
Sheryl nodded. “Rumors only, mind you, but adds to the mystique. In 2010, theEndeavor Spiritleft Hidden Bay. One of the fiercest storms we’ve had in the area hit, and it never arrived at its destination. All contact was lost. Originally it was believed to have sunk.”
“And theSpecter’s Bounty?” Cressida asked.
“Never saw it again until about ten years ago when suddenly, locals claimed to have seen a salvage vessel drifting aimlessly in the fog, almost unrecognizable as theEndeavor Spirit. Then more rumors of secret, mysterious cargo. The Coast Guard boarded it—no one was aboard. They towed it, but another storm hit, and it broke away and was lost again.”
“Lost?”
“And renamed. Fishermen and locals in Hidden Bay claim to see it now and then. And it has since been renamed theSpecter’s Bounty. Some believe it carried a mysterious treasure that was stolen but most especially a warning that these waters are dangerous.” Sheryl acted as if she practiced telling her grandchildren ghost stories. “You can read the legend here.”
She led them over to a big plaque written in an aged, slightly weathered-looking font, giving it an old-world maritime appearance, that said, “The Legend ofSpecter’s Bounty.”
Sheryl read the tale out loud to them. “‘Specter’s Bountycarried cargo valuable enough that men would kill for it. In2010, she sent out a single, garbled distress call and then vanished without a trace. No wreckage. No bodies. Just silence. Some say she was hijacked; others believe she was lost to a freak storm. But the strangest stories came later. Fishermen claim to see her massive hull on foggy nights—just beyond the breakers. Some even say they’ve heard distorted radio transmissions—an eerie SOS from the long-dead crew. If anyone dares to go after the ghost ship, their instruments fail and theSpecter’s Bountydisappears before they get too close. So word is that she is still out there, trapped between worlds, the crew searching for something—or someone—to set them free. The warning is that if you see her lights in the fog, turn back. No one follows theSpecter’s Bountyand lives to tell about it.’” Sheryl’s face had grown serious as she put all her energy into the tale, then she smiled and winked. “Fishermen love their tall tales and superstitions.”
“That they do,” Braden said.
Cressida was here to learn the truth about theSpecter’s Bountyso she could add that to her father’s book. But how did they cut through all the fiction? More distressing was the prospect that her father could have been murdered over information he’d learned while on this last part of his trip—per Octavia.
He had to ask, though. “Hold on, an entire crew simply lost at sea, and no one knew about it?” Braden wished he hadn’t said the words because he just sounded incredulous and much too emotional. His father had in fact been lost at sea, and he still grappled to understand it. To believe it.
As a kid he was given all kinds of explanations. An entire crew vanishing in a severe storm wasn’t unheard of. The more sinister explanations had tortured him as a kid—piracy or hijacking gone wrong. In the case of older vessels, stories of mutiny and foul play took hold. Someone could have kidnapped the crew and left the ship behind.
“I know it can be hard to understand,” Sheryl said.
“This is a bit of what my father dealt with in his research,” Cressida said. “He shared a story with me about a more recent cargo ship carrying rare earth elements. It reported navigation system failures, then it went completely radio silent. When they found it, the crew was gone. So was the cargo. On international waters, getting answers can be a big problem.” Cressida suddenly looked away.
He knew exactly where her mind had gone—to her mother, who was all about international waters. Octavia Dane started out as a protocol officer working in the Bureau of International Organization Affairs. Basically, the State Department. She worked to coordinate and facilitate meetings involving officials who worked with the IMO—International Maritime Organization—an agency most people had never heard of and had no idea the role it played in creating global shipping laws, safety protocols, and environmental regulations. Octavia eventually worked—or manipulated—her way into becoming Deputy Assistant Secretary for Maritime Affairs. That put her in the perfect position to call in favors using the secrets she’d collected.
Given Octavia’s position and Cressida’s research, maybe there was something to be discovered here after all—something related to a lost ghost ship.
Cressida shuddered slightly, then focused back on Sheryl, who glanced at the clock. “I’ve been working on my father’s book, and not all the so-called ghost ships have an end to their story. This one fascinates me.”
“You’re looking for the end, then? To solve the mystery?”
“If it’s possible, yes. I don’t understand how it can be left to just drift out there and endanger other boaters. Isn’t the Department of Natural Resources involved?”
“I’m sure it’s a complex issue, but you’re better off askingthe DNR.” Sheryl looked at her watch. “I’ll tell you what. You come back again this week, and you can get in for free, no charge. Do all the research you want, but I really have to go. I’ll see you out.”
Cressida seemed preoccupied as they exited the museum, and she got into his vehicle. She turned to him, clearly wanting to talk out her thoughts, and he welcomed that.
