•Helm: tiller or wheel. If someone “takes the helm,” that person begins to steer the craft.•Rudder: vertical metal or wooden plate attached to the stern, whose movements steer the boat.•Bow: The forward part of the ship•Stern: The backward part of the ship•Astern: behind the boat.•Starboard: right-hand side of a boat looking forward towards the bow (opposite of port).•Port: the left-hand side of a boat, looking forward towards the bow (opposite of starboard).

Basic Nautical Terms•Keel: centerline backbone at the bottom of a boat•Rig: arrangements of masts and sails.•Mast: vertical spar to which the sails and rigging are attached.•Rigging: ropes and wire stays of a boat; securing masts and sails.•Wake: a boat's track, behind.•Batten: thin wooden strips fitted into pockets for stiffening the leech (outside edge) of a sail, as in: “Batten down the hatches!”•Galley: a kitchen on a boat.

Clipper Ship•A clipper was a very fast sailing ship of the early to mid-1800s. The term developed as slang, as the ships were said to "clip" days off the usual time for a sea voyage. •Historians differ on when the first true clipper ships were built, but there is general agreement that they became well established in the 1840s. The typical clipper had three masts, was square-rigged, and had a hull designed to slice through the water.

7 Basic Types of Sailboats

1. A boat with two parallel hulls or floats, especially a light sailboat with a mast mounted on a transverse frame joining the hulls.2. A raft of logs or floats lashed together and propelled by paddles or sails.

Catamaran

Catamaran

Catamarans

Wilson!!!

•1. A winglike structure attached to the hull of a boat that raises all or part of the hull out of the water when the boat is moving forward, thus reducing drag.•2. A boat equipped with hydrofoils. Also called hydroplane.

Hydrofoil

BARGE

*A towed or self-propelled flat-bottomed boat, built mainly for river, canal, and coastal transport of heavy goods.

Maglev Train(Magnetic Levitation Train)

Oil Tanker

For Bangladesh, this is big business. Some 700 ocean-going vessels are scrapped each year, and about 100 of them are ripped apart in Bangladesh. The ship-breaking market is like a parable of the promises and pitfalls of globalisation. In rich Western countries, ship-owners used to have to pay royally to have their craft taken apart by expensive machinery in dry docks. Now, they can sell the decommissioned ships to ship-breakers, who have them dismembered along poverty-stricken beaches, with anything from 300 to 500 workers employed on each ship. Pictured: Rafiq Mia is a veteran. Not many people last as long as his 18 years as a “cutter” in the ship-breaking industry. He knows the risks he is taking. But he says the job saves his family from starvation

It is the end of another long, hard day of backbreaking and hazardous toil. As the sun sets off Bangladesh’s scarred coastline, hundreds of men clamber off the hulk of a ship and paddle wearily back to the oil-streaked mud of the beach. They are “cutters”, and they have spent the day tearing the ship apart with little more than their bare hands and oxyacetylene torches. Pictured: There is a market for almost everything that can be retrieved from the ship—the propellers are especially valuable. But even the woodwork can be stripped out, dragged ashore and sold for reuse

They are also exposed to long-term health risks: from the asbestos used for insulation in older ships, and from paint containing lead, cadmium and arsenic. Workers are poorly compensated when injured, and often, in between ships, have no work and no income. Many live in squalor. According to Young Power in Social Action, an NGO campaigning on ship-breaking in Chittagong, 51% of workers are under 22 years old and 46% are illiterate. Omi says they hate the work. They do it, he says, because “there is no other way to support their families. This is their last option.” Pictured: One of the many health hazards the cutters face is to their lungs, from the gases released as they take the ships apart.

Sometimes gases lingering around the vessels explode, to lethal effect. Some workers have been crushed by tumbling steel girders; others have fallen from the high sides of ships on which they were working without safety harnesses. Many of the oxyacetylene cutters work without goggles. Few wear shoes, let alone protective clothing. Pictured: Abul Kasheem lost most of his right arm and right leg when a huge metal sheet fell on it while he was working. He was just 14. Although, in theory, entitled to compensation, he received nothing. His older brother is now working to support a family of six

In Bangladesh, ship-breaking turns a stretch of beach into a vision of hell and a parable of globalisation. A photo essay by Saiful Huq Omi. Introduction by The Economist's Asia editor, Simon Long.

http://moreintelligentlife.com/gallery/where-ships-go-die-0

•In much of your work you explore dystopias – worlds where something has gone wrong and people are living on the edge. What first drew you to these types of stories, and why do you keep writing them?•I don’t think of myself as writing dystopias. To me, a dystopia is a deliberately designed society which is superficially perfected, but which is hell for the depicted individuals. That’s not what I do. I describe places where society has broken down or collapsed. I write about poor people. I write about places where technology went wrong, or we failed to adapt. And while it’s certainly hell for my characters, it’s not the same as what I think a dystopia is supposed to do.

I actually think of myself as writing our accidental futures. The kind you get when there’s a lack of forethought, a surfeit of poor planning, or just plain cynicism. And frankly, most of the worst details of the worlds I describe are based heavily on our present. Chittagong, Bangladesh isn’t a dystopia, its just a really poor place where we dump our scrapped ships because they have fewer worker safety and environmental controls. If I’m writing dystopia, then there’s an awful lot of our present world that fits under that umbrella. But hey, it’s a snazzy marketing term that doesn’t contain the dreaded words “science fiction” so maybe I shouldn’t complain so much. People keep telling me dystopias are hot.

Excerpt from an interview with Paolo Bacigalupi