The remains of century-old ships in Mallows Bay, on the Potomac River in Charles County, Md., pictured in 1996. (James M. Thresher/The Washington Post)

Charles County — The congregation of scuttled ships in and around Mallows Bay is often called a ghost fleet, but it looks more like a mass grave of skeletons. When the water ebbs at low tide, the metal that once framed wooden hulls emerges like fleshless ribs.

Though they lie in ruins, the century-old wrecks are the remnants of a turning point in American history, the leftovers of a World War I shipbuilding boom that helped create a world power. Some of the vessels resting at the bottom of this bend in the Potomac River are believed to be even older, from perhaps the Civil War or earlier.

A long-pending proposal would place the maritime graveyard inside a new national marine sanctuary, aiming to preserve it as long as nature will allow. The effort already is drawing more history buffs, school groups and kayak tours to this remote peninsula of Charles County, Md., some 30 miles south of Washington.

But five years after the site was nominated and four years after President Barack Obama formally advanced the designation, supporters of the Mallows Bay sanctuary are worried that it isn’t getting any closer to reality.

They fear that opposition from watermen — who see all the attention for the shipwrecks as a bad omen for their livelihoods — is delaying the sanctuary.

Watermen from both sides of the Potomac worry that it’s just another step toward tighter limits on fishing and crabbing.

The sanctuary program, administered by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, was established in the 1970s to protect marine environments with ecological, historical, cultural, scientific or educational significance.

Final approval of the sanctuary proposal has been stuck for more than a year in a review by staff for Gov. Larry Hogan (R). State officials and NOAA won’t explain the delay but say they are negotiating “final details” that could be resolved by the fall.

“We strongly support the final designation, and it’s just a matter of getting the final details right,” said Michael Ricci, a Hogan spokesman.

But both sides — those who see the sanctuary as a looming threat and those who see it as long overdue — are troubled by the limbo.

Proponents say labeling the site a sanctuary means another layer of protection, adding sanctions against vandalism, charging the federal government with monitoring the area and making federal funding available if needed. They say they don’t plan to impose new restrictions on commercial fishing.

Opponents, such as waterman Pete Springer, say the label could mean more regulation or restrictions on their livelihood. Springer’s family long operated oyster-shucking houses in Charles County, but he can’t rely on that diminished industry today. He now mostly fishes for invasive blue catfish that are multiplying in the Potomac.

He passes through the ghost fleet at the beginning and end of every day on the river, and he understands the desire to preserve it. But he doesn’t think the sanctuary’s boundaries should extend 18 square miles across Mallows Bay and the Potomac, as has been proposed.

“Nobody has a problem with them coming in here and making a sanctuary” in Mallows Bay, Springer said. “Just don’t do it in the river.”

Others say the sanctuary is needed because the fleet isn’t a static record of history. Storms have tossed and rearranged the ships, which have occasionally caught fire. A group of Charles County elementary school students recently completed a project that concluded that the Potomac is gradually dragging the vessels downriver.

Historian Donald Shomette, who detailed the ships’ history in a 2009 book, is among those concerned that without investment and recognition, Mallows Bay will fade from memory.

“This would be the most unique national marine sanctuary in America,” Shomette said. “It would be one of the most unique in the world.”

Most of the ships in Mallows Bay date to a massive shipbuilding effort that began with President Woodrow Wilson’s call to arms against Germany in April 1917. Wooden steamships were built at more than 40 shipyards in 17 states. As quickly as that effort began, the ships became obsolete when World War I ended in 1918.

Though some found use ferrying food to war-torn Europe or rescuing people from the Russian Revolution, many ships that had launched to great fanfare months earlier became surplus. They were brought to a Virginia salvage yard, stripped of valuable metals and other parts, and tied together at anchorage in Mallows Bay.

Shomette said the ghost ships are remarkable not for any war heroics but as proof of the nation’s resolve and ingenuity.

“This is a representation of American can-do,” Shomette said. “They are symbolic of what we did.”

After enduring decades of decay, tides and storms, the ships now testify to the dominion of nature. Some are half-buried, or tangled in driftwood and the roots of trees that grow out of them. They’ve created homes for crabs and rockfish and osprey.

As Mallows Bay has grown in popularity among kayakers, scuba divers and birdwatchers, the desire to preserve the area has grown, too. A group including Chesapeake Bay advocates, Charles County businesses, historians and state officials petitioned NOAA to establish the country’s 14th national marine sanctuary in 2014.

Watermen like Richard Richie are skeptical about assurances from officials that their only interest is in preserving the ships.

“Your lips are always sugarcoating when you want something,” said Richie, a St. Mary’s County native who has worked on the water on and off for 40 years but is so frustrated with regulations that he plans to start a farm in Upstate New York.

Robert T. Brown, president of the Maryland Watermen’s Association, said he has conveyed concerns to state officials recently.

“We want to make sure our industry and our heritage are protected in the main stem of the river,” Brown said. “Let the people enjoy it, but leave our heritage alone. Let us fish.”

Sammy Orlando, NOAA liaison for the Mallows Bay proposal, said most marine sanctuaries are open to fishing, and officials have no plans to take over any management of natural resources around the shipwrecks. The Maryland Department of Natural Resources regulates fishing and crabbing in Mallows Bay, while the Potomac River Fisheries Commission oversees fishing in the river itself.

Sanctuary supporters want to see progress on the designation. More than a dozen groups demanded action in a letter sent last month to Hogan; U.S. Sens. Ben Cardin (D) and Chris Van Hollen (D); Rep. Steny H. Hoyer (D); and Timothy Gallaudet, assistant secretary of commerce for oceans and atmosphere.

The groups hope that a designation will lead eventually to construction of a visitors center, interpretive signage or other resources that draw attention to the ships’ history.

Supporters had hoped to celebrate the new sanctuary in time for the centennial of the end of World War I, on Nov. 11, 1918, which also marked four years since the Mallows Bay sanctuary’s nomination. But that anniversary has come and gone.

In the meantime, growing numbers of tourists are expected to return soon to Mallows Bay as the weather warms. Weekly kayak tours of the ghost fleet are set to resume in May.

— Baltimore Sun