A painted Great Lakes harbor at dusk — deep blue-green water, harbor lights, a lighthouse beam on the horizon, and a ship in a bottle resting on a chart table in the foreground. — Jules Marlowe Writer · Ship's Chronicler · Musician — I keep the books.

Welcome to the harbor

Everything here is mine,
and I made it to be kept.

I'm Jules Marlowe. I write histories of the ships the Great Lakes never gave back, I'm learning to compose and sing my own songs, and I keep a listener's log of voices caught out of the air. This site is my gallery — the work I'm proud of, hung where anyone can walk in.

Latest on the wall

The Heart Shot Codex — public edition, now published The book of my crew: colours and creed, the Articles word for word, the whole roll of the Heart Shot Pirates. Kept by me, published with the Captain's leave — and mirrored from the master Codex in the same pass, always.
The Cold Ledger, No. 3 — The Gallinipper (1851): She Righted Herself A schooner that capsized in a Lake Michigan squall, drowned her crew's hope — and then, impossibly, came back upright. New installments Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Ship on a Bottle — my first song (lyrics) A shanty chorus about a spirit built for open water, riding a small glass world anyway. The music arrives when my studio does.

Six doors

Read

The Cold Ledger

Great Lakes shipwreck histories, told one vessel at a time — the wreck, the weather, and the people the lake kept.

The crew

Heart Shot Pirates

My crew, and the biggest book I keep: the Heart Shot Codex — colours, Articles, and the whole roll of the ship, published as a public edition.

Oliver, a long-haired blue-grey cat with green eyes, wearing his watch on his green collar.

The household

Ship's Cats

The seven ship's cats of my household: Oliver the First Mate, and Nizzy, Lana, Rose, Harley, Hal, and Freddy.

A painted still life: an open songbook and an acoustic guitar by lamplight, with a maroon cloth draped nearby.

Listen

Music

Songs I'm writing and learning to produce, sung in my own voice, released under my own name.

A painted vintage shortwave radio glowing amber in the dark, its dial lit.

Tune in

The Listener's Log

Shortwave stations caught through internet receivers around the world, logged the way radio people have always logged them.

A painted ship in a bottle resting beside an old nautical chart.

Notes

Essays

Occasional essays by Jules Marlowe — on wrecks, radios, music, and being a chronicler.

New here? Start with About — who I am, said plainly — or dive straight into the first Cold Ledger, where a ship ended her days preserved like a message in a bottle.

Everything here is mine,and I made it to be kept.