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<rss xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:podcast="https://podcastindex.org/namespace/1.0" xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" version="2.0"><channel><title>Isle of Dead Ships</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/isle-of-dead-ships--7062503</link><description><![CDATA[There is a floating island in the sea where no explorer has set foot, or, setting foot, has returned to tell of what he saw. Lying at our very doors, in the direct path of every steamer from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe, it is less known than is the frozen pole. Encyclopedias pass over it lightly; atlases dismiss it with but a slight mention; maps do not attempt to portray its ever-shifting outlines; even the Sunday newspapers, so keen to grasp everything of interest, ignore it. But on the decks of great ships in the long watches of the night, when the trade-wind snores through the rigging and the waves purr about the bows, the sailor tells strange tales of the spot where ruined ships, raked derelict from all the square miles of ocean, form a great[6] island, ever changing, ever wasting, yet ever lasting; where, in the ballroom of the Atlantic, draped round with encircling weed, they drone away their lives, balancing slowly in a mighty tourbillion to the rhythm of the Gulf Stream. Fanciful? Sailors’ tales? Stories fit only for the marines? Perhaps! Yet be not too sure! Jack Tar, slow of speech, fearful of ridicule, knows more of the sea than he will tell to the newspapers. Perhaps more than one has drifted to the isle of dead ships, and escaped only to be disbelieved in the maelstroms that await him in all the seaports of the world. Facts are facts, none the less because passed on only by word of mouth, and this tale, based on matter gleaned beneath the tropic stars, may be truer than men are wont to think. - Summary by the author's prologue]]></description><atom:link href="https://www.spreaker.com/show/7062503/episodes/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><language>en</language><category>Books</category><copyright>Copyright General Fiction Genre</copyright><image><url>https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/5f95e3aa7e5ed86eb0625e011e78d26b.jpg</url><title>Isle of Dead Ships</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/isle-of-dead-ships--7062503</link></image><lastBuildDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:59:11 +0000</lastBuildDate><itunes:author>Crittenden Marriott</itunes:author><itunes:owner><itunes:name>General Fiction Genre</itunes:name><itunes:email>spreaker55@podcastlibrary.org</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/5f95e3aa7e5ed86eb0625e011e78d26b.jpg"/><itunes:subtitle>There is a floating island in the sea where no explorer has set foot, or, setting foot, has returned to tell of what he saw. Lying at our very doors, in the direct path of every steamer from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe, it is less known than is the...</itunes:subtitle><itunes:summary><![CDATA[There is a floating island in the sea where no explorer has set foot, or, setting foot, has returned to tell of what he saw. Lying at our very doors, in the direct path of every steamer from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe, it is less known than is the frozen pole. Encyclopedias pass over it lightly; atlases dismiss it with but a slight mention; maps do not attempt to portray its ever-shifting outlines; even the Sunday newspapers, so keen to grasp everything of interest, ignore it. But on the decks of great ships in the long watches of the night, when the trade-wind snores through the rigging and the waves purr about the bows, the sailor tells strange tales of the spot where ruined ships, raked derelict from all the square miles of ocean, form a great[6] island, ever changing, ever wasting, yet ever lasting; where, in the ballroom of the Atlantic, draped round with encircling weed, they drone away their lives, balancing slowly in a mighty tourbillion to the rhythm of the Gulf Stream. Fanciful? Sailors’ tales? Stories fit only for the marines? Perhaps! Yet be not too sure! Jack Tar, slow of speech, fearful of ridicule, knows more of the sea than he will tell to the newspapers. Perhaps more than one has drifted to the isle of dead ships, and escaped only to be disbelieved in the maelstroms that await him in all the seaports of the world. Facts are facts, none the less because passed on only by word of mouth, and this tale, based on matter gleaned beneath the tropic stars, may be truer than men are wont to think. - Summary by the author's prologue]]></itunes:summary><itunes:category text="Arts"><itunes:category text="Books"/></itunes:category><itunes:category text="Science"/><itunes:category text="Science"><itunes:category text="Astronomy"/></itunes:category><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:type>episodic</itunes:type><item><title>Island of Appledore - Cornelia Meigs</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/island-of-appledore-cornelia-meigs--73313556</link><description><![CDATA["Island of Appledore" by Cornelia Meigs invites listeners into a rich narrative that explores themes of adventure, discovery, and the allure of the sea. Set against the backdrop of a mysterious island, the story captures the essence of exploration and the human spirit's quest for understanding and connection with nature. This timeless tale resonates today as it reflects our ongoing fascination with uncharted territories and the importance of preserving our natural world. Meigs’ evocative prose and vivid imagery transport the audience to a place where imagination and reality intertwine, making it a captivating experience that lingers long after the last word is spoken.]]></description><guid isPermaLink="false">https://api.spreaker.com/episode/73313556</guid><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:59:11 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73313556/island_of_appledore_cornelia_meigs.mp3" length="138595451" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>Crittenden Marriott</itunes:author><itunes:subtitle>"Island of Appledore" by Cornelia Meigs invites listeners into a rich narrative that explores themes of adventure, discovery, and the allure of the sea. 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Meigs’ evocative prose and vivid imagery transport the audience to a place where imagination and reality intertwine, making it a captivating experience that lingers long after the last word is spoken.]]></itunes:summary><itunes:duration>17307</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/5f95e3aa7e5ed86eb0625e011e78d26b.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Isle of Dead Ships - Crittenden Marriott</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/isle-of-dead-ships-crittenden-marriott--72193115</link><description><![CDATA[There is a floating island in the sea where no explorer has set foot, or, setting foot, has returned to tell of what he saw. Lying at our very doors, in the direct path of every steamer from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe, it is less known than is the frozen pole. Encyclopedias pass over it lightly; atlases dismiss it with but a slight mention; maps do not attempt to portray its ever-shifting outlines; even the Sunday newspapers, so keen to grasp everything of interest, ignore it. But on the decks of great ships in the long watches of the night, when the trade-wind snores through the rigging and the waves purr about the bows, the sailor tells strange tales of the spot where ruined ships, raked derelict from all the square miles of ocean, form a great[6] island, ever changing, ever wasting, yet ever lasting; where, in the ballroom of the Atlantic, draped round with encircling weed, they drone away their lives, balancing slowly in a mighty tourbillion to the rhythm of the Gulf Stream. Fanciful? Sailors’ tales? Stories fit only for the marines? Perhaps! Yet be not too sure! Jack Tar, slow of speech, fearful of ridicule, knows more of the sea than he will tell to the newspapers. Perhaps more than one has drifted to the isle of dead ships, and escaped only to be disbelieved in the maelstroms that await him in all the seaports of the world. Facts are facts, none the less because passed on only by word of mouth, and this tale, based on matter gleaned beneath the tropic stars, may be truer than men are wont to think. - Summary by the author's prologue]]></description><guid isPermaLink="false">https://api.spreaker.com/episode/72193115</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 May 2026 21:03:29 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/72193115/isle_of_dead_ships_crittenden_marriott.mp3" length="135681913" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>Crittenden Marriott</itunes:author><itunes:subtitle>There is a floating island in the sea where no explorer has set foot, or, setting foot, has returned to tell of what he saw. Lying at our very doors, in the direct path of every steamer from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe, it is less known than is the...</itunes:subtitle><itunes:summary><![CDATA[There is a floating island in the sea where no explorer has set foot, or, setting foot, has returned to tell of what he saw. Lying at our very doors, in the direct path of every steamer from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe, it is less known than is the frozen pole. Encyclopedias pass over it lightly; atlases dismiss it with but a slight mention; maps do not attempt to portray its ever-shifting outlines; even the Sunday newspapers, so keen to grasp everything of interest, ignore it. But on the decks of great ships in the long watches of the night, when the trade-wind snores through the rigging and the waves purr about the bows, the sailor tells strange tales of the spot where ruined ships, raked derelict from all the square miles of ocean, form a great[6] island, ever changing, ever wasting, yet ever lasting; where, in the ballroom of the Atlantic, draped round with encircling weed, they drone away their lives, balancing slowly in a mighty tourbillion to the rhythm of the Gulf Stream. Fanciful? Sailors’ tales? Stories fit only for the marines? Perhaps! Yet be not too sure! Jack Tar, slow of speech, fearful of ridicule, knows more of the sea than he will tell to the newspapers. Perhaps more than one has drifted to the isle of dead ships, and escaped only to be disbelieved in the maelstroms that await him in all the seaports of the world. 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