New Book Releases

Chesapeake is an Algonquian word meaning "great shellfish bay," and for decades, the oyster was the undisputed king of Chesapeake Bay shellfish. Early settlers reported them to be as large as dinner plates, and the reefs or rocks in which they lived
were large enough to be hazards to navigation. In 1884, fifteen million bushels of oysters were harvested and shipped around the world. The skipjack was the perfect vessel for sailing into the Chesapeake Bay's shallow waters and dredging for oysters, and each winter, hundreds of these wooden craft set out across the bay's cold waters. The oyster population of the 21st century is a fraction of what it once was, and the skipjacks have disappeared along with them. No longer economically viable, the boats have been left to rot in the marshes along the bay. Only 25 boats are still operational, and fewer than five still dredge.

The Thousand Islands' very name conjures up images of great natural beauty and nautical wonders. They are forested islands replete with storybook stone castles. Exquisite mahogany runabouts can be seen speeding across the placid surface of the mighty St. Lawrence. Names like Boldt, Bourne, Emery, Lyon, and Pullman are embedded in the Golden Age of the area, and it all comes to life in this pictorial history of the river. Images of America: Wooden Boats of the St. Lawrence River tells the story of the rich and powerful men who constructed castles and built classic wooden boats in the Thousand Islands. At the center of the story loom David and Charlie Lyon.

The history of Port Jefferson, a village on Long Island's North Shore, is rich with the lore of ships and the sea. Once called Drowned Meadow because of flooding at high tide, the town was renamed Port Jefferson in 1836. Those same harbor waters, which overran their banks, would become the natural resource that made Port Jefferson's first industry--shipbuilding--possible. By the mid-19th century, the village had become one of the principal shipbuilding centers on Long Island and a major port of entry. The names of many prominent shipbuilding families are preserved in the village's streets and institutions, including Mather, Jones, Bayles, and Hawkins. When the shipbuilding industry declined in the late 1800s, Port Jefferson used its seaside location to reinvent itself as a recreation destination, attracting notables such as Franklin Roosevelt. The community's heritage is evidenced today in the numerous well-kept historic homes and buildings that stand along the hilly, tree-lined streets overlooking the harbor.

Virgin forests dominated the landscape when white settlers first explored the land now known as Cecil County. The only trails within the thick vegetation were thin Native American paths known only to the native people. The best way for settlers to travel the new land was by water. Soon after the pioneers arrived, trading posts and crude lodges were built near the shore. Ferries were then constructed to transport travelers across streams, and inns and taverns were built to service the weary wayfarers. Civilization and commerce evolved at ferry and shipping centers throughout the county. Beginning
with Capt. John Smith's original exploration of the Chesapeake Bay in 1608, Cecil County has developed and maintained a cultural connection with its five main rivers and a large canal. Where mills, factories, waterfowl, and fisheries once provided sustenance for the county's residents, today recreational boating, fishing, and nature tourism bring jobs and entertainment.

Launched in Wilmington in 1997, Kalmar Nyckel—The Tall Ship of Delaware—is one of the region’s great educational resources, a floating classroom and inspirational platform for a broad array of land-and sea-based programs.

An accurate replica of the original Swedish naval vessel that launched the colony of New Sweden in the Delaware Valley in 1638, today’s Kalmar Nyckel voyages over 2,000 nautical miles and reaches more than 30,000 students, passengers, and visitors a year. A photographer’s dream wherever she goes, Kalmar Nyckel embodies America’s maritime heritage and has become one of Delaware’s defining treasures.

Samuel W. Heed, Esq., is the senior historian and director of education at the Kalmar Nyckel Foundation, where since 2008 he has been developing the programs, exhibits, articles, and documentaries that bring the Kalmar Nyckel story to life and give it meaning. Heed serves on a number of nonprofit boards, including the Council of American Maritime Museums. The Kalmar Nyckel Foundation archives provided the primary resources for this book.

An estimated three thousand shipwrecks lie off the coast of New Jersey - but these icy waters hold more mysteries than sunken hulls.

Ancient arrowheads found on the shoreline of Sandy Hook reveal Native American settlement before the land was flooded by melting glaciers. In 1854, 240 passengers of the New Era clipper ship met their fate off Deal Beach. Nobody knows what happened to two hydrogen bombs the United States Air Force lost near Atlantic City in 1957. Lessons from such tragic wrecks and dangerous missteps urged the development of safer ships and the U.S. Coast Guard. Captain Stephen D. Nagiewicz uncovers curious tales of storms, heroism and oddities from New Jersey's maritime past.

Lake Erie has seen its share of disasters, claiming more ships per square mile than any other body of freshwater. Read the mysteries of its most mysterious and notorious wrecks and disappearances.

The great lakes have seen many ships meet their end, but none so much as Lake Erie. As the shallowest of the Great Lakes, Lake Erie is prone to sudden waves and wildly shifting sandbars. The steamer Atlantic succumbed to these conditions when, in 1852, a late night collision brought 68 of its weary immigrant passengers to watery graves. The 1916 Black Friday Storm sank four ships -- including the unsinkable James B. Colgate -- in the course of its 20-hour tantrum over the lake. In 1954, a difficult fishing season sent the Richard R into troubled waters in the hopes of catching a few more fish. One of the lake's sudden storms drowned the boat and three man crew. At just 50 miles wide and 200 miles long, Lake Erie has claimed more ships per square mile than any other body of freshwater. Author David Frew dives deep to discover the mysteries of some of Lake Erie's most notorious wrecks.

With fortunes that have ebbed and flowed with the tides, Annapolis has graced the banks of the Severn River and the Chesapeake Bay since the seventeenth century. Generations have worked the docks, sailed its waters and hunted for Chesapeake Gold--oysters--even as the city became home to a proud military tradition in the United States Naval Academy. Local author Rosemary F. Williams presents a vivid image of Annapolis with tales of violent skirmishes between the dashing Captain Waddell and crews of outlaw oyster poachers, the crabbing rage of the twentieth century, feisty shipwright Benjamin Sallier and the city's Golden Age of Sailing. Williams's fluid prose and stunning vintage images chronicle the maritime history of this capital city and reveal its residents' deep connection to the ever-shifting waters.

Commissioned in 1936, The Taney was one of seven Secretary-class cutters built for the US Coast Guard during the Great Depression.

She served continuously for 50 years, including service in World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. The Taney was in Honolulu during the Japanese attack on December 7, 1941, and participated in the defense of Honolulu and Pearl Harbor. During World War II, she saw service in the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Pacific Ocean. The Taney spent several years on ocean weather station duty in both the Atlantic and the Pacific. Later, she patrolled the East Coast of the United States, performing drug interdiction duties. The Taney is the only surviving ship that was present during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. She was decommissioned in 1986 and has since been a museum ship in Baltimore's Inner Harbor, where she hosts an annual Pearl Harbor commemoration on December 7.

In 1844, the USS Princeton was the most technologically sophisticated warship in the world. Its captain, Robert Stockton, and President John Tyler were both zealous expansionists, and they hoped that it would be the forerunner in a formidable steam-powered fleet. On a Potomac cruise intended to impress power brokers, the ship's main gun--the Peacemaker--exploded as the vessel neared Mount Vernon. Eight died horribly, while twenty others were injured. Two of Tyler's most important cabinet members were instantly lost, and the president himself had a near miss--making it the worst physical disaster to befall a presidential administration. The tragedy set off an unpredictable wave of events that cost Tyler a second term, nearly scuttled plans to add Texas to the Union and stirred up sectional rancor that drove the nation closer to civil war. Author Kerry Walters chronicles this little-known disaster that altered the course of the nation's history.

For 175 years, passenger ships have crossed the Atlantic, linking the Old World with the New World. Between 1892 and 1954, more than 12 million immigrants passed through the port of New York. National rivalries caused ships to grow in size, speed, and a comfort that had once been unimaginable. The advent of the passenger jet in 1958 changed how people travel. New York's harbor is now quieter, and there are no longer days with six liners ready to sail to fabled European ports. Happily, one can still sail to Europe, cruise the Caribbean, or take a world cruise from Manhattan aboard a new generation of liners like the Queen Mary 2. New York's Liners captures iconic images of the great ships from the 1890s to the present day.