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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--7104889</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/7104889/episodes/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><language>en</language><category>Books</category><copyright>Copyright Nature and Animals Genre</copyright><image><url>https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg</url><title>Isle of Dead Ships</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/isle-of-dead-ships--7104889</link></image><lastBuildDate>Thu, 20 Aug 2026 09:17:02 +0000</lastBuildDate><itunes:author>Crittenden Marriott</itunes:author><itunes:owner><itunes:name>Nature and Animals Genre</itunes:name><itunes:email>spreaker70@podcastlibrary.org</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.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><podcast:guid>56730a5e-2ba1-50e8-b5e3-2e7dbcccaba7</podcast:guid><itunes:type>episodic</itunes:type><item><title>Copper Princess-Kirk Munroe</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/copper-princess-kirk-munroe--73957659</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/73957659</guid><pubDate>Fri, 21 Aug 2026 09:01:10 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73957659/copper_princess_kirk_munroe.mp3" length="172380096" 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. 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:duration>21526</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Enchanted Island of Yew-L. Frank Baum</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/enchanted-island-of-yew-l-frank-baum--73937309</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/73937309</guid><pubDate>Thu, 20 Aug 2026 09:01:15 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73937309/340_enchanted_island_of_yew_l_frank_baum.mp3" length="135696829" 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. 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:duration>16945</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Almayer's Folly (version 2)-Joseph Conrad</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/almayer-s-folly-version-2-joseph-conrad--73914100</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/73914100</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2026 09:01:07 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73914100/almayer_s_folly_version_2_joseph_conrad.mp3" length="180947334" 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. 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:duration>22596</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Havelok the Dane A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln-Charles Watts Whistler</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/havelok-the-dane-a-legend-of-old-grimsby-and-lincoln-charles-watts-whistler--73892239</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/73892239</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Aug 2026 09:01:29 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73892239/9992_havelok_the_dane_a_legend_of_old_grimsby_and_lincoln_charles_watts_whistler.mp3" length="257578848" 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. 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:duration>32165</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Wreck of the Golden Mary-Charles Dickens</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/wreck-of-the-golden-mary-charles-dickens--73870751</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/73870751</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Aug 2026 09:01:35 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73870751/wreck_of_the_golden_mary_charles_dickens.mp3" length="38583496" 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. 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:duration>4818</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Rescue Dog of the High Pass-Jim Kjelgaard</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/rescue-dog-of-the-high-pass-jim-kjelgaard--73851611</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/73851611</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Aug 2026 09:01:25 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73851611/12013_rescue_dog_of_the_high_pass_jim_kjelgaard.mp3" length="77650348" 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. 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:duration>9697</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Robbers Cave a Tale of Italy-Charlotte Maria Tucker (A. L. O. E.)</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/robbers-cave-a-tale-of-italy-charlotte-maria-tucker-a-l-o-e--73835555</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/73835555</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Aug 2026 09:02:25 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73835555/19801_robbers_cave_a_tale_of_italy_charlotte_maria_tucker_a_l_o_e.mp3" length="129088588" 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. 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:duration>16120</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item><item><title>Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida-Oliver Optic</title><link>https://www.spreaker.com/episode/down-south-or-yacht-adventure-in-florida-oliver-optic--73362345</link><description><![CDATA["Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida" by Oliver Optic invites listeners on a thrilling maritime journey filled with adventure and discovery. Set against the backdrop of Florida's enchanting coastline, the narrative captures the allure of yachting and the spirit of exploration that resonates with anyone yearning for freedom and adventure. This classic tale emphasizes themes of courage, camaraderie, and the pursuit of dreams, making it a timeless listen for those seeking inspiration in their own journeys. As the characters navigate challenges on the open waters, their experiences echo the enduring human desire for adventure and connection, reminding us all of the excitement that lies beyond the horizon.]]></description><guid isPermaLink="false">https://api.spreaker.com/episode/73362345</guid><pubDate>Mon, 03 Aug 2026 02:35:57 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/73362345/5167_down_south_or_yacht_adventure_in_florida_oliver_optic.mp3" length="193391676" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>Crittenden Marriott</itunes:author><itunes:subtitle>"Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida" by Oliver Optic invites listeners on a thrilling maritime journey filled with adventure and discovery. Set against the backdrop of Florida's enchanting coastline, the narrative captures the allure of yachting...</itunes:subtitle><itunes:summary><![CDATA["Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida" by Oliver Optic invites listeners on a thrilling maritime journey filled with adventure and discovery. Set against the backdrop of Florida's enchanting coastline, the narrative captures the allure of yachting and the spirit of exploration that resonates with anyone yearning for freedom and adventure. This classic tale emphasizes themes of courage, camaraderie, and the pursuit of dreams, making it a timeless listen for those seeking inspiration in their own journeys. As the characters navigate challenges on the open waters, their experiences echo the enduring human desire for adventure and connection, reminding us all of the excitement that lies beyond the horizon.]]></itunes:summary><itunes:duration>24150</itunes:duration><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.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--72517425</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/72517425</guid><pubDate>Sun, 14 Jun 2026 02:08:31 +0000</pubDate><enclosure url="https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/72517425/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. 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:duration>16961</itunes:duration><itunes:keywords>dead,ever,foot,gulf,isle,marine,marriott,nautical,newspapers,ships</itunes:keywords><itunes:explicit>false</itunes:explicit><itunes:image href="https://d3wo5wojvuv7l.cloudfront.net/t_rss_itunes_square_1400/images.spreaker.com/original/6e5ffc68a5872a4e6fbc7f75255b8af8.jpg"/><itunes:episodeType>full</itunes:episodeType></item></channel></rss>
