This is the second in a six-part, yearlong series called Disappearing Virginia in Distinction magazine. This story originally appeared in the April issue as “Ghosts on the Water.” The Simon Lake was a vital pillar in the good working order of the United … Continue reading →
The listing and rusted vessel is what you’d expect to see at a scrapyard. What’s not readily apparent, though, is that beneath the cracked paint and broken windows lies an epic tale of disaster and riches, disappearance and discovery, greed … Continue reading →
There were once hundreds of them, just about any spot a country road dead ended at tidewater. They were the lifeblood of communities, a portal to the world beyond. Folks once planned their days, their seasons around them. But now … Continue reading →
Used to be you had no problem seeing the Ghost Fleet. After all, there were 850 idle ships lashed together in neat rows of two dozen or more stretching five miles. Today, though, that vast armada is a dying flame. … Continue reading →
Concrete floats. Well, a concrete hull does, anyway. Form the material to make a vessel that displaces water and–voila–just like steel, concrete is buoyant. Go figure. I knew writing a book about the Chesapeake Bay’s abandoned history would lead me … Continue reading →
Cities are as much a vault for abandoned history as the countryside, and there’s something logical and engaging about urban exploration. The whirr of production, the odor of industry, the energy are all as much a part of the bay’s … Continue reading →
Surely the oddest spectacle in all the Chesapeake Bay’s tributaries is Mallows Bay. You can’t help some sense of bewilderment paddling about the 170-odd burned and weather-beaten hulks, their remnants barely breaking the surface of the murky water, their keels sunk fast … Continue reading →
