Chapters (61)
- Cover
- Praise for Patricia Wilson
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- More from Patricia Wilson
- About the Author
- Acknowledgements
- Author’s Note
Kea is a small island, less than an hour’s ferry ride from the mainland, and the harbour is lined with delightful cafés. At its most inland curve, a sandy beach is dotted with tamarisk trees and, on a rocky outcrop, I noticed the ubiquitous little white chapel of countless postcards. Further around the bay, a long promontory leads to the whitewashed lighthouse and church of Agios Nikolaus. Honestly, you could not design a more iconic Greek scene! I had to pinch myself. This charming little island, unspoiled by tourism, is a place of art and culture, perfect for year-round holidays. Its capital, a pedestrianised hilltop town in the centre of the island, is unbelievably pretty.
‘On holiday?’ the waitress asked as she brought my iced coffee.
‘Not exactly,’ I answered, ‘I’m thinking of writing a novel about the Britannic. Did it go down near here?’
‘You need to speak to Yannis Tzavelakos, from Kea Divers. He’s the expert.’
She promptly pulled out her phone and called him. Within twenty minutes, the charismatic Yannis Tzavelakos, dive master, was at my table sharing his great knowledge with me. I was hooked! If you’d like more information, check out KeaDivers on Facebook, where you can see their great underwater films of local dives, including the shipwrecks of SS Burdigala and, of course, the HMHS Britannic which was only discovered in 1975. What a story they have to tell.
The Britannic was built in Belfast for the North Atlantic passenger trade. However, as she reached completion, war broke out and she found herself requisitioned by the British government as a hospital ship for the duration of the conflict. She sailed the much warmer waters of the Mediterranean Sea heading for the hospital clearing station on Lemnos island.
After saving many thousands of lives, disaster hit in the Aegean on the Britannic’s sixth rescue trip.
The sinking of the Britannic raises many questions. Did she strike a mine, or was she torpedoed? How could a vessel of this size and calibre – and, like the Titanic, deemed to be unsinkable – flounder in merely fifty-five minutes? Why couldn’t she push on and reach the island of Kea?
I was fascinated, and so I watched real time video documentaries and Jacques Cousteau’s dive down to the Britannic after he had discovered the ship. I also read letters from the nurses and medical staff who were on board when disaster struck. However, it was through reading Simon Mills very informative book, The Unseen Britannic (which I highly recommend), that I learned fascinating details of the ship. Simon Mills felt so passionately about the Britannic that he bought the wreck in order to protect it from marauders. By this time, I knew this ship had to be the subject of my next novel.