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On May 28, 1914, the RMS Empress of Ireland began her 192nd trip across the Atlantic from Quebec City, Canada, en route to Liverpool, England, carrying 1,056 passengers and a crew of 423. In the early hours of May 29, fog descended on the St. Lawrence River, and the ocean liner was rammed by the Storstad, a Norwegian coal ship. In the fourteen minutes it took for the Empress of Ireland to sink, there was time to launch only four of the forty lifeboats, and rather than women and children first, it was everyone for themselves.

The Titanic. The Britannic. The Olympic. They are some of the most famous ships in history, but for the wrong reasons. The Olympic Class liners were conceived as the largest, grandest ships ever to set sail. Of the three ships built, the first only lost the record for being the largest because she was beaten by the second, and they were both beaten by the third. The class was meant to secure the White Star Line's reputation as the greatest shipping company on earth. Instead, with the loss of both the Titanic and the Britannic in their first year of service, it guaranteed White Star's infamy.

What do a barracks for British troops in the Falklands War, a floating jail off the Bronx, and temporary housing for VW factory workers in Germany have in common? The Balder Scapa: a single barge that served all three roles. Though the name would eventually change to Finnboda 12. And then to Safe Esperia. And later on, to the Bibby Resolution. And after that . . . in short, a vessel with so many names, and so many fates, that to keep it in our sights—as the protagonist of this fascinating economic parable—Ian Kumekawa has no choice but to call it, simply, the Vessel.

Launching Liberty tells the remarkable story of how FDR partnered with private businessmen to begin the production of cargo freighters longer than a football field—ships he affectionately dubbed “ugly ducklings.” These colossal Liberty Ships took over six months to build at the start of his $350 million emergency shipbuilding program, far too long. The government turned to Henry Kaiser, the man who had delivered the Boulder Dam ahead of schedule and under budget, but had never built a ship in his life.

Lifeboat at the End of the World is an astonishing lyrical and literary book about the experience of being a lifeboat volunteer, migration, the sea, Dungeness and more. Rather than offering a political opinion, Dominic Gregory writes about the reality of the RNLI, of saving lives. He details the smells of the station, the emotions when the call to ‘a shout’ comes, how they are trained, the ethos of the service, and what it’s really like to sail out in the middle of the night.