The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder

by David Grann

In his journal, Bulkeley jotted a line from the poet John Dryden: Presence of mind, and courage in distress, Are more than armies to procure success.

In 1945, in one of the most comprehensive modern studies of human deprivation, known as the Minnesota Starvation Experiment, scientists assessed the effects of hunger on a group of individuals. During a six-month period, thirty-six male volunteers—all were single, fit pacifists who had shown an ability to get along with others—had their calorie intake cut in half. The men lost their strength and stamina—each shedding roughly a quarter of his body weight—and they became irritable, depressed, and unable to concentrate.

Many of the volunteers had hoped that self-abnegation would lead them, like monks, to a deeper spirituality, but instead they began conniving, stealing food, and coming to blows. “How many people have I hurt with my indifference, my grouchiness, my overbearing perversion for food?” one subject wrote. Another subject shouted, “I’m going to kill myself,” then turned on one of the scientists and said, “I’m going to kill you.” This person also fantasized about cannibalism and had to be removed from the experiment. A report summarizing the results of the study noted that the volunteers were shocked at “how thin their moral and social veneers seemed to be.”

Only a few of them could swim. “We

Published six months after Bulkeley and Cummins had returned to England, the book was called simply A Voyage to the South-Seas, in the Years 1740–1. But it contained a long, tantalizing subtitle to attract readers:

Empires preserve their power with the stories that they tell, but just as critical are the stories they don’t—the dark silences