title: Lost Maine Coastal Schooners: From Glory Days to Ghost Ships
author:  Ingrid Grenon 
description: As a child growing up in a 1799 farmhouse in rural Maine, Ingrid Grenon was surrounded by history. She lived and breathed it. She loved hearing stories about her Mayflower ancestors, who were both Saints and Strangers. She listened intently as she was told about those who fought in the Revolutionary War and about a great-great-great-grandfather who joined the Sixty-first Maine Infantry during the Civil War. She is also very proud of her great-great-great-grandfather, Captain William Peachey, who was lost at sea when his schooner sunk near Portland Harbor during a gale in December 1876. She learned, too, of a Sebago Indian from whom she is descended. These are the things that impressed her from a young age. Currently employed by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Grenon has a degree in psychology and a riding master's degree. She is a member of the Maine Maritime Museum, Boothbay Region Historical Society and the Hill-Stead Museum. She is also a published poet.
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  The Voyage  
    
  
  This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.
  
  
  http://www.blackmask.com
  
  
  # The Voyage
  
  
  ### Katherine Mansfield
  
  
  This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.
  
  
  http://www.blackmask.com  
    
  
  
  THE Picton boat was due to leave at half-past eleven. It was a
  
  
  beautiful night, mild, starry, only when they got out of the cab and
  
  
  started to walk down the Old Wharf that jutted out into the
  
  
  harbour, a faint wind blowing off the water ruffled under
  
  
  Fenella's hat, and she put up her hand to keep it on. It was dark on
  
  
  the Old Wharf, very dark; the wool sheds, the cattle trucks, the
  
  
  cranes standing up so high, the little squat railway engine, all
  
  
  seemed carved out of solid darkness. Here and there on a rounded
  
  
  wood-pile, that was like the stalk of a huge black mushroom,
  
  
  there hung a lantern, but it seemed afraid to unfurl its timid,
  
  
  quivering light in all that blackness; it burned softly, as if for itself.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Fenella's 