A ghost story from the wreck of Europe’s forgotten disaster.
The Estonia is a darkly comic psychological drama that explores survival, memory, trauma and human resilience in the face of disaster.
Written by celebrated novelist Billy O'Shea and produced by Unqualified Arts, this new play introduces two fictional characters, connected through the real-world maritime disaster of 1994, when a passenger ferry sank off the coast of Finland — taking 852 lives with her. Of the 137 survivors, most were young men.
Daniel, representing one of those young men, is now haunted by the ghost of Maggie, who won't let him ignore what happened. On the anniversary of the sinking, she visits him during his night shift at the radar station and whisks him back in time to face the truth.
The play uses clever dialogue, flashbacks and immersive soundscapes to explore issues of survival, grief and PTSD.
I was relieved when I first saw the ship in Tallinn. I was scared it might be some old rustbucket. I mean, you hear the word ‘ferry’ and you think some little boat. But this was a big, beautiful vessel, like a cruise ship. Built by the Germans, they told me. Room for two thousand passengers. Luxurious inside. Like a huge hotel. Elevators between the decks. Carpeted stairways, polished brass handrails. Lots of bars and restaurants. A cinema. A casino. Even a sauna. I was impressed.
I’ve been thinking, since then. A ship like that is like a cathedral. A cathedral to us, to human beings. It’s where we worship ourselves. Look what we can do, we humans. We can do anything. We’re in charge. We rule the waves, we rule the world. And then look at that cathedral when it’s tilted at 45 degrees and all the lights are out and everyone is screaming and fighting and crying.
That’s when you realise, hey, maybe we’re not in charge after all. Maybe we’re all just play-acting. Like small children. Hey, look at me! I’m the captain of the ship! I’m the king of the world! No you’re not, mate.
The waves and the sea don’t care what game you’re playing. You’re not a captain or a king out there. You’re just a poor, shivering animal, begging for mercy. ‘Please don’t kill me.’ Compared to the sea, you’re no-one, you’re nothing. That’s what it comes down to.
To read the full script, please contact the production team directly.
An intimate play set in the shadow of the MS Estonia. It remains the deadliest peacetime shipwreck in European waters, and yet outside the Nordics and Baltics it's largely been forgotten.
When news of the event struck in the early hours of 28th September 1994, communities were shaken by the scale of the tragedy and horrified that such a disaster could strike in modern times. One of the themes of this play highlights human complacency — the assumption that we are somehow invulnerable to the power of nature.
This production aims to tell the story in new regions, and to help audiences in the most affected communities to process their collective trauma around the event, through dramatic exploration of the mental health effects suffered by our fictional characters. It doesn't shy away from the very raw and self-punishing emotions that can accompany survival or witnessing disasters, but instead examines how to manage them and learn to continue living.
In a particularly poignant moment, the audience is plunged into over six minutes of darkness — immersed in a carefully reproduced soundscape, experiencing the sensation of being aboard a vessel in distress, and then entering the cold nighttime water.