I’m not an obvious reader for this book. I don’t sail, don’t even travel unless I’m forced.
But it doesn’t really matter, because the book isn’t just about sailing. It’s about the people who have sailed alone across oceans, what it meant to them, and what their experiences were like, alone with that vast expanse and exposed to the dangers of weather, sharks, mechanical breakdowns, and shipping lanes.
Just to get it out of the way, I’m a friend of the author, so take that how you want. I don’t like all the books my friends write, but I liked this one very much.
The book is a history of the people who have done these voyages, starting with Ann Davison in 1951, the first documented solo ocean crossing by a woman, and then going back to the eighteenth century, to Josiah Shackford, the first documented solo ocean crossing by anyone.
The qualifier “documented” is critical, as the author no doubt rightly notes that there were crossings by non-documented, in many or most cases non-Western, sailors who pioneered ocean sailing and boat design.
For every soloist, there are, as King calls them, a “why-go” and a “what-they-saw”. The why-go can vary — these could be people simply challenging themselves, they could be people in need of an escape or a fleeing-from, they (especially in later voyages) could be racers in search of competitive victories and glories, they could be environmentalists seeking support for their cause, or they could be record-seekers. And just about everything else you can imagine.
Especially striking are the stories of three teenaged women seeking to not just cross an ocean but to circumnavigate the globe alone. Their stories are infused with the mostly healthy self-assertions of coming of age and claiming independence and self-reliance.
All the stories are stories of self-reliance and confidence in the face of unknowable challenges. No one knows exactly what they’ll face — storms, collisions, mechanical difficulties are all out there but you have no way of knowing which will hit you, how hard they’ll hit you, and what’s going to be at your disposal to help you meet their challenges. Solo sailors have to be engineers, meteorologists, observational astronomers, cooks, handymen and handywomen, and more just to pull out the right skills at the right times.
The what-they-saw has a different, spiritual tone. The sheer expanse of sea, the exposure to a world of life that goes pretty much unnoticed, the rhythms of weather, waves, and the stars. There’s the experience of “nature”, an ecstatic appreciation for its immensity and often its indifference to our presence or welfare.
And there is its opposite, the experience of the mark we (humans) leave on nature, remarkable for its glaring presence in the most remote places. It’s pollution or the effects of global warming, but it’s also the background of technology that both causes that damage and desecration and that gives us the tools we need to meet natural challenges, here the satellite and gps systems, the radar, the other onboard electronics. There’s irony there.
The history that King presents is framed by his own experience as a cross-Atlantic soloist. His experience is told as almost a framing story around the history — introducing topics and themes like loneliness, sea life, threats of different sorts, . . . The combination of history and personal story may be what makes the whole so engaging.
It works for someone like me, and, like I said, that wasn’t obvious when I started reading it.