Jeff’s Reviews > Survive the Savage Sea by Dougal Robertson > Status Update

I cannot emphasize too strongly that survival conditions are not the same as those voluntarily undertaken by brave men who wish to help survivors fight for their lives. The physical conditions may be quite similar, but the moral incentives, the attitude of experimental interest as opposed to that of escape from catastrophe, can alter a person's judgment of what is right or wrong and this difference can kill!

The suggestion that a castaway should stop alleviating his despair when he feels the need for the substance he is using to allay it is a useless nonsense, and I propose to show by quoting from actual shipwreck experience that there is indeed nothing to be gained, and much to lose, from following this most dangerous advice.

Direct contravention of Bombard--"There has been a considerable amount of experiment, carried out under practical and hazardous conditions, to demonstrate that sea water may be used to supplement the diet of castaways...drinking sea water, requires that the castaway should not be dehydrated when he drinks it."

So much insightful scientific breakdown of the survival efforts and obstacles, yet the author never addresses what might be the biggest mystery of the story. Why did the whales attack? How often does this happen? How unlucky were they?

They feared being eaten if they entered the water, but as far as I know that's unheard of.

I think it is probably a help to others who are afraid, if one can conceal the outward evidence of one's own fear, but it is better to work quickly even if the appearance of haste gives the impression of fear if the loss of time also involves the loss of lives.

The closing section is devoted to a critical analysis of survival techniques--could this be any better?

The detour to relive navigating to Fernandina and Galapagos is a little confusing in context of the "coincidence" chapter, which seems to really only refer to the final couple of paragraphs, but it reminds us that the voyage was a peaceful adventure, with the one notable exception.

Not throughout, but a poet when he wants to be: "...deep, sea-green pools and scarlet crabs sparkled the black rocks like a primeval rash. Nearer to us, on a tower of rock isolated from the clifiF, black marine iguanas lay piled on each other in motionless heaps, intertwined like hideous black spaghetti, their dull wrinkled skin and toadlike heads belonging to another era."

..the whale coming to the surface and blowing occasionally, the spray from its vent drifting across Lucette in an evil-smelling mist until Lyn, holding a handkerchief to her nose, shouted "Go on the other side, your breath smells!" As if it had heard, the whale dived...the peculiar rolls were repeated, until, tiring of Lucettes lack of response to this most pressing courtship, the whale dived steeply and disappeared.

Robin had never lost hope of being rescued, and I had calculated the chance of being rescued to be so small that it could be discounted. A case of the statistician adopting the attitude which rightfully should have been mine, and of my adoption of an attitude which ought to have been his!