There are many tales of ships lost at sea or battered against an unforgiving shore. In some cases, the particulars of those stories will never be known. And some will tug at the heartstrings with poignant details that stand out long after you've closed the book.

That's true of The Sinking of RMS Tayleur: The Lost Story of the Victorian Titanic, by Gill Hoffs.

The Tayleur -- owned, like the Titanic after her, by the White Star Line -- was a brand new, thoroughly modern merchant ship, with a revolutionary iron hull and multiple sealed compartments that designers thought made her unsinkable. When she left Liverpool in January 1854, bound for Australia with a hold full of cargo and hundreds of passengers hoping to start a new life there, she was commanded by Captain John Noble who, though young, had already built a reputation as a fast and reliable sailor.

But the crowded clipper ship had several strikes against her, such as a novice crew, an undersized rudder and navigational compasses that proved unreliable when surrounded by so much iron. And, of course, the storm that struck shortly after the ship left port on Jan. 19, 1854. Two days later, lost in the fog, she struck the rocky coast of Lambay Island, just five miles from Dublin Bay.

Of 652 passengers and crewmen, only 280 survived.

Hoffs doesn't just relate the bare facts of Tayleur's calamitous maiden voyage, however. She delves into the lives of the passengers, such as the heroic surgeon, Robert Hannay Cunningham, who had returned from Australia to collect his wife and two children to join him in a new life there, and ex-convict Samuel Carby, who had made a small fortune already in Australia's gold fields and was now returning with a new bride. She examines the character of Noble, whose injury from a fall not long before the voyage might explain some of his seemingly irrational decisions as the danger drew near.

As Hoffs introduces each new person on the ship, you'll probably find yourself flipping to a list of passengers and crew members in the back of the book -- just so you know if that person was among the survivors. I lost count of the number of times my stomach dropped when I saw the word "deceased" by a name. But full credit to Hoffs, she certainly gives them their due with diligent research and a sensitive presentation of their lives and fates.

Digging through written and reported accounts by the survivors, as well as details from the formal enquiries into the incident, Hoffs really brings home the drama of the wreck and its harrowing aftermath. Getting from ship to the steep and rocky shore was close to impossible, and some of her stories of people making the attempt and failing are simply heartbreaking. So, too, are the heroic efforts of some people who saved themselves to rescue others -- sometimes at the cost of their own lives as the storm raged on and massive waves crashed around them.

The book is short, only 128 pages plus an afterword and appendices, but Hoffs packs a lot of information and good, solid storytelling into her book. She has also written about two other, lesser-known shipwrecks, and I look forward to learning more about them, too.