I wouldn't sail this ship if I were you
1. The old Earth, having been lapped by the ebb and flow of temperatures for some time, is finally succumbing to the heat. Life remains only at the poles; great humid forests which grow frantically in the Arctic and Antarctic summers. In the winter they sit silently through the months of wet darkness. On the shores of the polar continents (or what were the shores some years ago, because the oceans are beginning their long slow final evaporation) the outer forest, roots boiled to sterile mush, sits rotting. The edge of the outer forest moves a little bit inwards every year.
2. Although the sun is big and red, the world beneath is still inhabited. By now, so many generations of humans have passed by that any part of the planet you care to choose is nothing but the archaeological layers of past civilisations. Landscapes are walls built on walls built on walls. The only things to mine are ruins and rubbish. Even when they are in some new technological flowering, the people of this Earth stay close to their homes. Some of the ruins are dangerous, and you never quite know in what way.
3. There are no people left on Earth, but the machines they left are more hardy. The machines know that every year a certain amount of new housing is required, which they dutifully build on top of the old housing, there being no other place to do so. Unobserved by human eyes, the towers of Earth are amazing. They tilt against each other, sliding on the crumbling foundations of older buildings which in turn are mined for the materials to build new ones. Sometimes they topple like dominoes. As time goes by, the machines enter a kind of senility occasioned by the action of thousands of years of cosmic rays on their circuitry. Some get stuck on this or that feature: teetering skyscrapers containing nothing but swimming pools; acres of doors that lead only to other doors; planet-spanning corridors lined with avocado bathroom suites. The old planet is slowly destroyed in a kind of telephone game of human culture.
4. The Earth is a bare, rocky ball, devoid of atmosphere or native life. Nostalgic for the homeland of mankind, inhabitants of other planets pay vast sums to stay in the planet’s many dome-based resorts, where they can lie under a blue filter painted with clouds and soak up the ultraviolet in an authentically plastic replica of famous Earth landmarks. The only permanent residents of the planet are low-paid immigrant workers from Titan.