Wednesday Weirdness: The Ghost Ship of Loch Awe

pathway between large, gnarled trees with words "on the path of Wednesday Weirdness" superimposed over imageLighthouse on rocky coast shrouded in dense fogWelcome to the first Wednesday Weirdness of 2020!

It’s great to return with this regular weekly feature after all the fun of the holidays. I’ve also got an “extra” at the end, but to get things rolling, I’d like to share a legend rooted in sea lore.

In the northern waters from Scotland to Iceland, a ghost ship is often glimpsed, riding the sea a day’s journey from the rugged coastline. Known as the Ghost Ship of Loch Awe, she resembles a passenger liner of the early 1900s.  It’s uncertain why she is attributed to Loch Awe, Scotland’s third largest freshwater loch which has never received a vessel larger than a coastal cargo ship.

The phantom boat appears only when the water is calm but swaddled in layers of fog. She materializes from the mist, smoke curling from her chimney stacks, her decks ablaze with lights.  It’s been reported she passes so close to other vessels those onboard can see passengers strolling on her decks.

Most spine-tingling of all, she passes in utter silence, swallowed quickly by the fog. Not a sound is heard in the unnatural hush. From the waves breaking against her hull to the ratchet of noise that should rise from her engines, there is nothing but eerie stillness and calm.

Despite the relative serenity of her passing, calamity follows in her wake. According to legend, within twenty-four hours of the vessel’s appearance, catastrophe will strike. She is the harbinger of a collision at sea, the tragic death of a crew member, or some other dire misfortune.

Oddly, the Ghost Ship of Loch Awe has never been identified as the phantom of an actual vessel. There is no account of any ship to fit her description, no maritime record of a lost vessel that resembles her. She is a whisper of myth, an omen born from the water itself, serving as warning to those who spy her, that tragedy awaits.

Do you love legends of the sea? What do you think of this one? Drop me a thought or two in the comments. But before you set your fingers to typing, I have an “extra” to share.


My good friend, Craig Boyack, is hosting me today with an excerpt from my novel, Eventide. More and more readers are telling me this is their favorite of the three books in the series, which has me jazzed. How would you feel about buying a house with an old cistern in the basement—especially if that cistern had been securely bolted shut, almost as if to keep something in? Join me at Craig’s place for an excerpt about what happens when the bolts are removed. I hope to see you THERE.

P.S…if you’e not already following Craig’s blog, you’re missing out on a lot of fun. There’s a reason it’s called “Entertaining Stories.” I highly recommend clicking the FOLLOW button while you’re there!


 

Mythical Monday: The Ghost Ship of Loch Awe by Mae Clair

bigstock-Lighthouse-In-Dense-Fog-23759474In the northern waters from Scotland to Iceland, a ghost ship is often glimpsed, riding the sea a day’s journey from the rugged coastline. Known as the Ghost Ship of Loch Awe, she resembles a passenger liner of the early 1900s.  It’s uncertain why she is attributed to Loch Awe, Scotland’s third largest freshwater loch which has never received a vessel larger than a coastal cargo ship.

The phantom boat appears only when the water is calm but swaddled in layers of fog. She materializes from the mist, smoke curling from her chimney stacks, her decks ablaze with lights.  It’s been reported she passes so close to other vessels those onboard can see passengers strolling on her decks.

Most spine-tingling of all, she passes in utter silence, swallowed quickly by the fog. Not a sound is heard in the unnatural hush. From the waves breaking against her hull to the ratchet of noise that should rise from her engines, there is nothing but eerie stillness and calm.

Despite the relative serenity of her passing, calamity follows in her wake. According to legend, within twenty-four hours of the vessel’s appearance, catastrophe will strike. She is the harbinger of a collision at sea, the tragic death of a crew member, or some other dire misfortune.

Oddly, the Ghost Ship of Loch Awe has never been identified as the phantom of an actual vessel. There is no account of any ship to fit her description, no maritime record of a lost vessel that resembles her. She is a whisper of myth, an omen that is perhaps born from the water itself, serving as warning to those who spy her that tragedy awaits.