Alan looked back at the ship as it cried in a deep, metallic voice, the groans of a dying leviathan. It was sliding, tilting back, about to slip beneath the waves again. The last few still remaining aboard were scrabbling off ropes or considering jumping. He took hold of one of the dangling ropes to steady it; there wasn’t much more he could do.<br/><br/>He couldn’t help but notice the large hole in the side of the ship – surely it could never have stayed afloat damaged like that – unless that had happened since it arrived in this mysterious place. Vast though it was, it was claustrophobic, echoing ominously and it in a strange, eerie, slightly green light. He saw the crewman studying the floor, the strange trail of scrapes that led into a sort of cave/tunnel.<br/><br/>Flix had wandered off over towards an ancient wooden galleon a few hundred yards from their landing point. It too had a large hole in the hull. She cautiously stepped into the old ship, sniffing the dank air.