This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/ReasonableUnit2170 on 2026-05-26 03:58:17+00:00.

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Everyone knows the legend of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald, especially if you reside within the Great Lake Region. The 729 foot, 13,632 gross ton Great Lakes Bulk Carrier was comparable to the Titanic. Hull No. 301 was launched June 8th, 1958 in River Rouge, MI. She would only last for a grand total of 17 years.

Multiple bad omens occurred on the morning of her launch. Three attempts of breaking a champagne bottle during the christening, a large wave that took out infrastructure below, and a heart attack resulting in a death. In hindsight it seemed like she was cursed from the start. When she sank on November 10th, 1975 the SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank with all 29 passengers.

Lake Superior holds a great many secrets. Just as much a tomb as it is a body of water. Cold, deep, and dark… Even so, three underwater explorations were made. They occurred in 1989, 1994, and 1995. During the last exploration in 1995, with the help of a varied group, the Fitzgerald’s 200lb bronze bell was recovered. As was another item, but it did not belong to this ship.

The item that I am referring to dear reader, is an article that was recovered from a smaller unknown ship that had sunk the same day - a journal. The contents of which I shall recount for you here.

My name, although it is unimportant to this post, is Evan Guthrey. I work at the Great Lakes Ship Wreck Museum in Whitefish Point, MI. Although my position here is unclear, based on the number of odd jobs I have been assigned, you could call me a researcher or analyst of sorts. Since attendance has been dwindling over the last few years, I was tasked with digitizing the more interesting portions of our historical artifacts. We (I and all the people at GLSWM) hope that this should be enough to entice you to stop by.

I would like to extend my heartfelt condolences to the family of Luther Blackburn, as well as the families of the rest of the crew of the SS Lily Marina. The journal that I’ll be transcribing belonged to Blackburn, and tells a story that even I can seldom comprehend. A tale of the fiercest winter storm, and the man they found out on the ice.

November 8th 1975 - Superior, Wisconsin

The air has a chill the likes of which I have never known. Even as my gloved hands grip the pen, my knuckles ache. There are many a good place to eat by the docks. The plate that is in front of me is full of bones and crumbs, barely enough left for a mouse. The room I have rented was humble and small, just the thing I needed. I haven’t had a good night's sleep in months, but last night I did.

Maybe it was the way the air smelled of crisp, clean water. Like snow was getting ready to fall at any moment. The flakes had already accumulated in shallow piles across the ground. Superior was known for its lake effect weather, winter came faster here than the rest of the world. I didn’t mind at all, in fact, it made me excited. It had been a long time since I had squeezed myself into the lower decks of a Laker. This time, I wouldn’t be one of the grunts, I would be taking the role of ship medic.

Being a medic was the only thing I seemed to be good at now. The Vietnam War was my shotgun style of learning, and I was quick on my feet. The Navy sent me on my merry way once I had served my time, and I was grateful. I had seen too much carnage, too many unnecessary deaths while serving. That’s some shit you never want to see again, let alone talk about. Those memories will be kept for me alone.

The Captain, a salty man named Thurston, met me just before sundown. Apparently things had not been so peaceful, even here in the US. Looters and pirates still roamed the waters and I had to be wary. Nothing could be as bad as having to look a child, and the barrel of a gun in the eye. As long as I didn’t have to kill anyone or lay witness to the use of extreme torture, I was alright with just about anything.

We would be leaving at sun up, and all I had to bring was myself. It sounded like an easy enough job to me. Before I shut my eyes tonight, I will look upon the land once more surrendering myself to the void of a lake. The SS Lily Marina would be my lady for the next few days, and I could not wait.

I hope the other members of the crew and I get along. It would be unfortunate otherwise. Once I return from my journey, I’ll have to stop by and see my parents. I hope they’ll forgive me for not visiting them first.

L. J. Blackburn

*Hi! Analyst Evan here! The first entry was short and sweet, a slice into the life of a nomadic ship medic. I was even fooled by how calm and peaceful it was. Upon further research, Luther Blackburn was a decorated soldier. He was awarded the Navy Cross and the Navy Unit Commendation. How cool is that!?

As you continue reading, please remember that this is a one for one copy of the journal's pages. None of what you read is conjecture on my end, nor is it embellished. I will also warn you that some of the content may be considered horrific and should be tread lightly. Thanks again, and if you are in the area please remember to stop by the Great Lakes Ship Wreck Museum!*

November 9th, 1975 - Lake Superior

I would have never guessed my first day back on a ship would end so poorly. Such odd occurrences in such a short amount of time. I had awoken just before the sun came up, frost covering the meager window of my room. Packing up the few items I brought was a quick task, and soon I was off towards the docks. SS Lily Marina was a sight to behold, even though it was moored near the gigantic Fitzgerald. Most would have been drawn in by the sight of the larger ship, but the small beauty of the Marina was more enticing to me.

Captain Thurston greeted me merrily and introduced me to most of the crew. Only a handful of names stuck in my mind. Case, the ship cook was a larger man with curly red hair. Richard, who was the Captain’s first mate, reeked of cigarettes and wore a blue stocking cap atop his head. A few of the other names were Westley, Howard, Lyle, amongst the ones I couldn't remember. They seemed like a good crew, one that wouldn’t have too many scuffles unless it revolved around a game of cards.

I felt at home early off. The medical area of the ship was small yet stocked with just about anything I could ever need. Unless there was an accident, I expected to be doling out meds for stomach aches. That was an easy enough job. I figured most of my time would be spent alone under the deck, most likely reading one of the books I had brought. My time being away for war kept me from a great many of my hobbies. Classical literature being one of them. Peace by Gene Wolf sat deep within my bag.

I was almost comfortable when the commotion began. A ruckus of whoops and voices traveling throughout the ship. Pretty soon my name was called, and I was forced to the surface. My services were in need. Out of seemingly nowhere, the weather has started to change. Brisk waves and whipping wind had turned to large flakes of snow. In almost white-out conditions, chunks of ice started to appear within the water. Large enough that the Captain had commanded for the lookout to give better instructions. We now had obstacles to dodge. It was during that time that something truly odd had happened.

“There’s a man in the water!” The lookout called from his perch. “Man down! Man in the water!”

Most of the crew had looked around wildly, wondering who had been stupid enough to fall from the ship. We were only hauling farming supplies. There was no reason to be out on the deck in such horrid conditions. It wasn’t like we were a fishing vessel, looking to bring up catches of crabs from below the choppy surface. It was not one of the crew who had fallen, they were all still squared away safely on the ship. The man in the water was strange. Standing atop a large chunk of ice, still as a statue, sailing on it like a surfboard.

“What are you waiting for, let's bring them aboard!” The Captain’s voice rang out.

That was when my services were called for. Once the rescue mission commenced, the Edmund Fitzgerald disappeared into the distance. Our ship was last in the line of three, we were the only ones who had the time to stop and help. When the man was pulled from the water, the crew was in shock. He was completely naked, skin paler than the winter scene around us. His hands and feet were starting to turn black, along with the other unfortunate appendages that hung from his body. He was also taller than most men I had seen. Probably coming in at damn near seven foot-tall.

“Jesus Christ, what was he doing out there on the ice? Naked at that?” I half yelled to the crew that carried him in their arms.

They looked at each other and shook their heads. I was an idiot for asking them a question they weren’t capable of answering. I took the lead towards the medical bay and beckoned them to follow me. The man's head lolled back as he was carried through the narrow metal pathways. In the brief glimpses I got of his face, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. It struck me as odd, the feeling. How could I have known this man?

“Place him here,” I said, waving my arm to the stretcher-like bed. It was covered in white crinkly paper. As the man was placed atop it, it buckled under his weight. I shouted at the men to bring me as many blankets as they could find before they ran off into the belly of the ship. Then, we were alone.

“Sir, can you hear me? What is your ...

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