A whole ferry. How can a whole ferry go missing? It never made any sense. Dozens of vessels shift across the channel all day, every day. You have the booze cruises from Dover, and the posho French services from Caen. Giant shipping containers pass near private cruises. This is an aquatic motorway with nowhere to hide.
The ferry that vanished was high end, and in the process of undertaking the full six hour journey. Mobile phones were not as common in those days, but the ship still had multiple methods of communication with land. Radio chatter is constant and needed in the busiest shipping lane in the world. But the vessel blipped out the existence within sight of the cliffs of Kent.
This was a huge deal for about a year. Some claimed a shipwreck, but good weather and an experienced crew removed the weight from this theory. Conspiracies twirled like umbrellas, but with nothing tangible, nothing grew. The families continued to push, but after a while public interest faded away.
Yet I remained fascinated by the urban legends of this mysterious trip. That people claimed to see the ship on the horizon. That figures still walked the deck.
The stories were the main reason I got a job serving in the gift shop on a ferry. A living one. My parents thought this role was a demotion. But my workday posed no challenges and I had plenty of time to look out of the window. I got to the point where I could eat a lunchtime sandwich, and never let my watch of the horizon drop.
It took months. But at last my hard work paid off.
What I remember was the green glow, like something from a cartoon or a sweet packet. How the translucent sides revealed so much.
Some played the fruit machines. Others joined the queue for the restaurant. A couple enjoyed a coffee on the deck. Someone read a book in their cabin. But all watched me as their new home raced in silence, never breaking the skin of the water.
I could not tell if they were grinning, or if the flesh had fallen away from their lips.
