Sails oscillate in the desert breeze, unaware that the ship can no longer move. Trapped when the great lake succumbed to the intense heat and the inevitable march of the desert the ship lies on the waves of sand, tilted to one side. Its wooden hull is cracked and fractured, holes opened up by dust storms. Inside the ship is derelict, the contents raided long ago by desert natives. The upper decks are littered with sand, rigging torn and frayed due to constant exposure.
In the cabin lie the skeletons of the crew, still pouring over maps, skeletal hands tightly clutching compasses.