Sighting the Ghost Ship

I saw the ghostly lights last night. The mist had thinned, allowing a view further out to sea. My mates insist it was naught but moonlight on the waves. But I swear I could make out her masts, glimpse her tattered sails. And could that simply have been the moaning wind? Or the distant wailing of the cursed crew? Those poor souls bound to their mad captain and his ship. The Withered also haunt the seas. The thought makes me shudder. Giuseppe