OUT in the endless grey of the Atlantic Ocean, a vessel drifts alone. The only sound in the dining room is the wind. The only smell in the galley is rust. The cabins that once held 100 passengers lie empty; there’s not a soul aboard. Along the bow, a row of drip-stained letters spells its name: Lyubov Orlova.
The Orlova is a modern-day ghost ship. It disappeared on 4 February 2013, en route to the Dominican Republic, without power or crew. The loss triggered a global hunt involving coastguards hoping to find the ship before it ran ashore or struck an oil rig; the coordinators of a new satellite system with a point to prove; and even a team of would-be treasure seekers. Each had their own prize in mind: prevention of disaster, reputation and glory, or a salvage bounty worth a million dollars. How hard could it be?
In fact, it proved far from easy. This raises some important questions: in an age of global surveillance, when planes and satellites can watch our every move, how can we lose a 1400-tonne ocean liner? And what else might be roaming the high seas, abandoned and long forgotten?
Named after a Soviet actress, the Lyubov Orlova was bolted together in Yugoslavia in 1976. In its heyday, it went on expeditions to the poles: while the vessel’s strengthened bow brushed aside broken ice, tourists snapped gleaming icebergs from the observation deck or sipped drinks in the lounge.
By January this year, however, the Orlova had fallen into a sorry state, derelict and impounded in …