Catherine left the classroom and got on the boss and got off the bus and walked up the steps and opened the door and closed the door and said “mother, I have an assignment” and went upstairs to her room and got on her computer and began typing and this is what she typed:
Twenty Famous Shipwrecks of the 19th to 21s Centuries, by Catherine Clearwater, Age 9 and 3/5ths ™
The Manifest Munificence
1804, ship of the line. First-class man-o-war intended to strike fear into the heart of Europe through overwhelming splendour, with not only the most cannons ever put on any boat but the most expensive due to the entirety of the ship’s armaments being gilded. Subsequent overhauls added silvered masts, platinum-encrusted railings, bejeweled lines, and diamond-coated cannonballs. It is estimated that one-eighth of the total net economic value of all human history was lost when it sank under the weight of its own expenses in port.
The Capering Crane
2015, superyacht. Took on too many barrels of champagne in Fiji during the birthday celebrations of its owner (pineapple tycoon Marvin Y. Moose) and popped like a cork. Marvin’s skull was found two decades later in the north Atlantic, still light and bubbly with a refreshingly crisp edge.
Her Grace
1859, barque. Executed personally on June 2nd by Her Majesty Queen Victoria for high treason after sailing insolently in front of the sun as she took her tea. Required an afternoon’s work and six sharpenings to chop all the way through the mast. Prince Albert helped.
The Wandering Eyeball
1990, oil tanker. Made a hard right turn and slammed directly into the only known nesting habitat of the lesser north American pudgegull, washing sixteen miles of coast off the map in a single giant tidal wave of crude and fumes. Captain Smithereens, who was recently divorced, claimed that the birds were laughing at him and was let off with paid vacation time.
The Moon Under My Amy
1923, sailboat. Yanked violently underwater in less than an instant during a fishing competition off the coast of Bermuda. Was awarded first place posthumously.
Catherine got up and stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders and walked to her door and opened her door and called out ‘Mother. A glass of water, please” and went back to work.
The Shattered Scaphoid
1872, ironclad. One of the many experiments in ship production that took place from the 1860s to the 1890s, the Shattered Scaphoid was lost during its trial voyage from Virginia to Massachusetts ten seconds after launching, putting a reluctant-but-firm end to theories of a warship that confused its foes by sailing upside-down.
The Crestpucular
1873, clipper. Was just rounding Cape Horn with a full load of coal when it paused to salvage some flotsam consisting of two tons of flint-and-steel firestarters and several waterproofed crates of dried and aged parchment.
The Perring and Hickle
1915, battlecruiser. Passed under Coldwine Bridge on a lazy Sunday afternoon when children were throwing stones into the water and caught a big boulder from Eddie Foster; lost with all hands in an instant.
The Carol von Hummus
1951, aircraft carrier. Lost while testing the flight capabilities of the single experimental prototype of the Loman L-4 Lancelot, the so-called ‘Brick Buzzard.’ Transmissions indicate launch proceeded smoothly but was followed instantly by a somewhat problematic landing.
Catherine rolled her neck back and forth and worked her jaw and got up and opened her door and called “Mother, another glass of water please” and waded back to her keyboard.
The Repugnant
1940, corvette. Sunk itself while completing basic training near Halifax after the bridge crew tried to settle an argument over how to arm a depth charge with firsthand evidence.
The Elmo Fitzpatrick
1979, rowboat. Tipped over on July 4th during an unauthorized expedition to see the fireworks across the bay when the first mate’s illegal pet snake escaped her pocket and slithered up the captain’s shorts.
The Wilforb Smitherling
1935, tugboat. Tripped over a branch.
Catherine called once more over the splashing “Mother, water please.”
The Hurgybirdy
1872, clipper. Lost off of Cape Horn with her cargo of flint-and-steel and dried and aged parchment, along with Captain Shookshiv’s entire world-renowned collection of very pure and incredibly flammable alcohols and exotic kerosenes. It’s possible they were led off-course by the inexplicable second sun that rose briefly off the coast of South Africa that evening.
The Fanciful Pantaloons
1812, schooner. Constructed by the British, captured by the Americans, stolen back by the British, set on fire by the Americans, sent blazing into Cleveland by the British, extinguished by the Americans, set on fire again by the British, and sank precisely in the middle of Lake Superior after being disowned by both countries.
“Mother! Water.”
The
“Water!”
Gleerful
“More water!”
Ol’
“Water please!”
So-and-so
“Water”
Sank
“Another glass!”
in
“Refill please!”
the
“More!”
drank.
“WATER!”
She waited. No more water was forthcoming.
So Catherine sighed and shook her head and shimmied her spine and swam gently down the stairs into the murky depths of the kitchen and turned the rusted faucet and watched the currents eddy around its muzzle as she held her glass to it. Eels eeled by the window as she mouthed at the rim, frowning at the glistening dark of the sunset’s light far overhead.
Still five wrecks short. Perhaps she could go and make some in time for the deadline.