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Stretch Goals! we have: digital and audio at all levels, at $3600 we add: local, higher quality printing, Matthew Spencer coloring sheet - adorable little bot, Dream the Deep / Dream the Light on Kickstarter, all over gay little sea scene.

Stretch Goals! we have: digital and audio at all levels, at $3600 we add: local, higher quality printing, Matthew Spencer coloring sheet - adorable little bot, Dream the Deep / Dream the Light on Kickstarter, all over gay little sea scene.

We are so grateful that our queer little project is being Sea-n. Thank you! Together, we swim! #Books #SeaStories #Queer #Kickstarter #ScienceFiction #SciFi

www.kickstarter.com/projects/att...

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Preview
The Amalfi Curse: A Bewitching Tale of Sunken Treasure, Forbidden Love and Ancient Magic on the Amalfi Coast from the Author of The Lost Apothecary Amazon.com: The Amalfi Curse: A Bewitching Tale of Sunken Treasure, Forbidden Love and Ancient Magic on the Amalfi Coast from the Author of The Lost Apothecary eBook : Penner, Sarah: Kindle Store

The Amalfi Curse

“A Bewitching Tale of Sunken Treasure, Forbidden Love and Ancient Magic on the Amalfi Coast”

Sale: $30.36 to $2.99

by Sarah Penner
Rating: 4.2/5 (4,252 Reviews)

#Fantasy #Magic #Witches #Books #SeaStories #Treasure #Love #Romance #Historical #BookSky

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A monochrome photograph of an old fishing boat lying half-submerged in calm water near West Tarbert, Argyll, Scotland. The boat’s wooden hull is worn and weathered, showing signs of age and long exposure to the elements. The surrounding water is still, and the scene conveys a quiet, solitary atmosphere, suggesting the slow passage of time along the rugged coastline.

A monochrome photograph of an old fishing boat lying half-submerged in calm water near West Tarbert, Argyll, Scotland. The boat’s wooden hull is worn and weathered, showing signs of age and long exposure to the elements. The surrounding water is still, and the scene conveys a quiet, solitary atmosphere, suggesting the slow passage of time along the rugged coastline.

'WEST TARBERT WRECK'
.
A half-submerged fishing boat near West Tarbert, Argyll, tells a quiet story of time and the sea 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿
.
davebowmanphotography.com/featured/wes...
.
#photography #photographersunited #eastcoastkin #monochromephotos #shipwrecks #MaritimeHistory #ScotlandCoast #SeaStories #wallart

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Image 1 
White background with black text
Reading:

04/12/25

The ship lurched and fell through the dark seas’ swell, a pale moon illuminated the deck and foredeck in an ethereal light. He wouldn't be surprised if ghosts arose, and walked… or swam… this night. Sighing, and gripping the salt stained guard rail, as the ship peaked through another trough, he stood, his thumb rubbing absently a smooth knot in the wood as he looked out. He watched, as his breath began to mist, and he faintly heard… a song?
“... And, when the Spectral Moon comes a’calling, a'calling...’’
Through the briny darkness came a strong, yet haunting, melody. 
“... My wayward thoughts, they turn only to you…”
Not a gruff sailors tenor, this was like honey on wine. He turned once to look about the deck, but he was the only one to draw the watch tonight, while his men were snoring in their hammocks.
The melody grew in tempo, abandoning the slow pace for a quicker, more seductive rhythm.
“... So, lay down your anchor, lay down your dread...” 
“... And sink your warm thoughts inside my cold bed...”

Image 1 White background with black text Reading: 04/12/25 The ship lurched and fell through the dark seas’ swell, a pale moon illuminated the deck and foredeck in an ethereal light. He wouldn't be surprised if ghosts arose, and walked… or swam… this night. Sighing, and gripping the salt stained guard rail, as the ship peaked through another trough, he stood, his thumb rubbing absently a smooth knot in the wood as he looked out. He watched, as his breath began to mist, and he faintly heard… a song? “... And, when the Spectral Moon comes a’calling, a'calling...’’ Through the briny darkness came a strong, yet haunting, melody. “... My wayward thoughts, they turn only to you…” Not a gruff sailors tenor, this was like honey on wine. He turned once to look about the deck, but he was the only one to draw the watch tonight, while his men were snoring in their hammocks. The melody grew in tempo, abandoning the slow pace for a quicker, more seductive rhythm. “... So, lay down your anchor, lay down your dread...” “... And sink your warm thoughts inside my cold bed...”

Image 2
White background with black text reading:
Every note was an answer to a question he hadn't ever known he was asking. The coldness of the deck, the loneliness of his watch, the endless labor against the unforgiving ocean - all felt suddenly unbearable. He didn't just want the promised cold rest; he felt he deserved it. His life had been nothing but salt, wood, and hardship. Why should he fight for another dawn?
Somewhere far away, in the back of his mind, he knew what sang, and what its cruel design entailed. It wanted the ship to capsize, and it wanted him. His hand instinctively loosened its grip on the salt-stained rail. The misting of his breath seemed to grow heavier, catching the ephemeral moonlight and forming a shimmering veil between him and the rest of the world.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the song fill his lungs instead of the night sea air.
“... Come, to the current, where silence is gold...” 
“... And let our deep water, the weary one, hold.”
His free hand was already lifting up and out toward a sheet rope, ready to pull up and swing his leg over the side. The voice was both everywhere and nowhere. Its source, impossible to pinpoint, and yet he knew if he opened his eyes, he would see it: a flash of iridescent scales, and an impossible shadow in the lunar light.

Image 2 White background with black text reading: Every note was an answer to a question he hadn't ever known he was asking. The coldness of the deck, the loneliness of his watch, the endless labor against the unforgiving ocean - all felt suddenly unbearable. He didn't just want the promised cold rest; he felt he deserved it. His life had been nothing but salt, wood, and hardship. Why should he fight for another dawn? Somewhere far away, in the back of his mind, he knew what sang, and what its cruel design entailed. It wanted the ship to capsize, and it wanted him. His hand instinctively loosened its grip on the salt-stained rail. The misting of his breath seemed to grow heavier, catching the ephemeral moonlight and forming a shimmering veil between him and the rest of the world. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the song fill his lungs instead of the night sea air. “... Come, to the current, where silence is gold...” “... And let our deep water, the weary one, hold.” His free hand was already lifting up and out toward a sheet rope, ready to pull up and swing his leg over the side. The voice was both everywhere and nowhere. Its source, impossible to pinpoint, and yet he knew if he opened his eyes, he would see it: a flash of iridescent scales, and an impossible shadow in the lunar light.

Image 3
White background with black text reading:
But then, his thumb, still absently rubbing that smooth knot in the guard rail, found a splinter, with a sharp, sudden intrusion of pain. It was minor, meaningless, yet the unexpected physical sensation was like a spark of fire burning through the smooth current of the song. The pain anchored him, momentarily overriding the honeyed promise floating in his ears.
He gasped, a sound lost beneath the swell. Duty. The word was sharp and bitter, utterly lacking the siren's simple sweetness, but it was solid. If he went overboard, the ship would continue without a watch, rudderless, risking his sleeping men.
With a grunt that was more strain than effort, he slammed his hand back down onto the rail, gripping the splintered wood until the unholy pull of temptation in his chest was replaced by the throbbing pain in his hand.
"Not tonight," he whispered, his voice rough and unused. "Not this watch."
He didn't quite trust his feet to move him away. Instead, he dragged his gaze away from the sea and focused on the foremast, to a solid, man-made structure piercing the spectral sky. He needed noise, real noise, the noise of work, and danger.

Image 3 White background with black text reading: But then, his thumb, still absently rubbing that smooth knot in the guard rail, found a splinter, with a sharp, sudden intrusion of pain. It was minor, meaningless, yet the unexpected physical sensation was like a spark of fire burning through the smooth current of the song. The pain anchored him, momentarily overriding the honeyed promise floating in his ears. He gasped, a sound lost beneath the swell. Duty. The word was sharp and bitter, utterly lacking the siren's simple sweetness, but it was solid. If he went overboard, the ship would continue without a watch, rudderless, risking his sleeping men. With a grunt that was more strain than effort, he slammed his hand back down onto the rail, gripping the splintered wood until the unholy pull of temptation in his chest was replaced by the throbbing pain in his hand. "Not tonight," he whispered, his voice rough and unused. "Not this watch." He didn't quite trust his feet to move him away. Instead, he dragged his gaze away from the sea and focused on the foremast, to a solid, man-made structure piercing the spectral sky. He needed noise, real noise, the noise of work, and danger.

Image 4
White background with black text reading:
He staggered back to the binnacle, fumbling for the lanyard of the great ship's bell, and pulled it, hard. The harsh clang shattered the hypnotic melody, painfully loud in the sudden silence. The bell rang out twice more, a waking alarm for a call to deck.
The song stopped instantly, replaced by the frantic, muffled sounds of confused and groggy sailors scrambling from their hammocks below. He leaned against the rail, heaving and shaking, as he waited for the righteous anger of the newly-woken crew.

Image 4 White background with black text reading: He staggered back to the binnacle, fumbling for the lanyard of the great ship's bell, and pulled it, hard. The harsh clang shattered the hypnotic melody, painfully loud in the sudden silence. The bell rang out twice more, a waking alarm for a call to deck. The song stopped instantly, replaced by the frantic, muffled sounds of confused and groggy sailors scrambling from their hammocks below. He leaned against the rail, heaving and shaking, as he waited for the righteous anger of the newly-woken crew.

A little longer #QuickWrite today, I wanted to see where it went!

#SpectralMoon #Siren #Mermaids #Folklore #CreativeWriting #WriterSky #SeaStories #StoryADayKeepBoredomAway

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Poor sailors see fins,
And fear what swims beneath the hull,
Below cold hands wait.

⛵ 🧜

#BlueSkyRelay #DailyPrompt #Merrow #PoetrySky #MicroPoem #ThreeLines #DarkPoetry #MythsAndLegends #Folklore #SeaStories #Merfolk #SeaScales

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“There was a time when a postcard was enough to leave.”

Secret Ocean, episode 4 — now on Yacht Lounge.

👉 yachtlounge.substack.com/p/secret-oce...

#YachtLounge #Podcast #SecretOcean #YachtingLife #QuietLuxury #SeaStories #Storytelling

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The water is calm,
But pale bells of a siren #float,
Dangling death

🎐 ☠️

#WSS366 #DailyPrompt #ThreeLines #PoetrySky #MicroPoem #Folklore #MythsAndLegends #JellyFish #SeaStories #SirensBells

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Yacht Lounge is now on YouTube.
A new space to listen to the sea.
🎧 Discover our launch video and all our podcasts: www.youtube.com/channel/UC5H...

#YachtLounge
#LuxuryPodcast
#SeaStories
#OceanVibes
#YachtLife

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Fishing boats in Krk’s harbor bring the weight of the night’s catch. Beside them, a lone fisherman waits with his rod—reminding us that the sea gives to all, in nets or in silence.
#Krk #SeaStories #FishingLife #Canon #Croatia

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Sea stories of a Coastie-Trekkie. The squirrel cage.
#uscg #coastguard #coastie #trekkie #ships #seastories #engineering

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These are the most delicate strings of seaweed. I found myself drawn to their colours and shapes. The bifurcate and branch like trees. Veins that feed things.

Transporting nutrients.
Communicating messages.

#seaweed #delicate #seastories #photographer #creativeideas #tasmanianartist

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Video

And more sea stories, portcall edition. #coastie #seastories #trekkie #travel

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Small boats set out, others return. The shore listens to their untold stories — of nets, salt, and weary hands. Between departure and return, the sea whispers its eternal rhythm. 🌊 #fishingboats #seastories #adriaticsea #coastallife #Canon #boat

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Video

Widespread Noise - Last Song of the Sirens

I thought the video and music paired quite well with this one.

#widespreadnoise #noahpeterson #noise #sirens #myth #wonders #folklore #legend #seastories #lies

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Widespread Noise - Last Song of the Sirens

I thought the video and music paired quite well with this one.

#widespreadnoise #noahpeterson #noise #sirens #myth #wonders #folklore #legend #seastories #lies

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It all starts with curiosity.
It's what drives us to tell independent stories, off the beaten track.
Yacht Lounge: the newsletter that looks at the sea from a different perspective.
→ yachtlounge.substack.com

#YachtLounge #Newsletter #Yachting #Sea #BoatLife #Sailing #Curiosity #SeaStories #Yachts

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Sea stories, from a coastie and a Trekkie.
#trekkie #coastie #startrek #seastories

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Selene thought she hated Darian Thorne more than anything. But when the Siren Queen’s army rises and the Red Hand prepares to burn the seas, the only way to survive is to fight side by side. www.amazon.com/Cursed-Sea-L... #seastories #romanticfantasybooks

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Selene thought she hated Darian Thorne more than anything. But when the Siren Queen’s army rises and the Red Hand prepares to burn the seas, the only way to survive is to fight side by side. www.amazon.com/Cursed-Sea-L... #seastories #romanticfantasybooks

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Shout out to my client, Emery Luna, on the release of her book series. If you like fantasy and sea stories, these are for you! 📚 #books #newbooks #bookseries #bookrecommendations #author #writer #clientsuccess #fantasybooks #seastories #novels

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Pirates in Newfoundland
Pirates in Newfoundland YouTube video by Letters from Newfoundland

Think pirates were just a Caribbean thing?

Think again — they came to the Rock too, and I’ve got a story for you!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIo8...

#Newfoundland #Canada #AtlanticCanada #TheRock #Pirates #PirateHistory #SeaStories #PeterEaston #MaritimeMystery#NewfoundlandStories

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#Finnlines

#Travemünde

#Helsinki

#BalticSea

#Versorgungsschiff

#NotACruise

#FreightAndFeelings

#SchiffMitSeele

#SeaStories

#ReisenMitCharakter

#NoFrillsJustWaves

#BalticVibes

#AufSee

#MitDemSchiff

#WorkingShipWanderlust

#SlowTravel

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Hagstone by Sinéad Gleeson 
The book is a vivid fuschia pink in the twilight; it is held up beside a weather beaten wooden fence. The title runs vertically down the centre in lime green; behind it is the outline of a craggy island with a tiny figure of a woman

Hagstone by Sinéad Gleeson The book is a vivid fuschia pink in the twilight; it is held up beside a weather beaten wooden fence. The title runs vertically down the centre in lime green; behind it is the outline of a craggy island with a tiny figure of a woman

Falling Animals by Sheila Armstrong 
The cover shows a rusting red hulk of a ship caught in swirling green seas; the sky is a clear blue framed with white clouds. The picture is standing on end, as if tge ship is about to slide off the cover.

Falling Animals by Sheila Armstrong The cover shows a rusting red hulk of a ship caught in swirling green seas; the sky is a clear blue framed with white clouds. The picture is standing on end, as if tge ship is about to slide off the cover.

Day 10 #RIWC25 - A book to do with the sea

Day 10 #RIWC25 - A book to do with the sea

Day 10 #ReadIrishWomenChallenge25 - my own choices for the prompt, a book to do with the sea
Hagstone by Sinéad Gleeson
&
Falling Animals by Sheila Armstrong
Both of these brilliant novels are closely connected to the textures & moods of the sea.

#RIWC25 #seastories #SpéirG0irm #booksky 💙📚

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Heghseth hates his former colleague and and successors. Even Admiral McRaven had to ask for the permission to publish his biographie #seastories

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Sea Stories

@spreaker check out Sea Stories Podcast #seastories #veteran #activeduty #usarmedforces #veteranpodcast #usmc #usaf #usn #militaryveteran #departmentofveteransaffairs #spreaker #subscribe #follow #like #stream

www.spreaker.com/podcast/sea-...

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