I enjoyed the hell out of this book. Charles Wilkins is fast becoming a favourite author.

Don't make the mistake of thinking this book is a day-by-day diary of the crossing of the Atlantic in a paddle boat. It's so much more than that. It's an insight into humans who voluntarily placed themselves into a punishing situation, it's the study of sixteen people pushed together in impossible living conditions. It's man against nature. It's man against man. It's man against himself. And it's about rattling the cage and not accepting that age is a limiting factor. And it's fascinating as hell.

For example, in detailing one of his conversations with a shipmate, I came across this, which struck me as a phenomenal understanding:

...one of his frustrations in life was that he had never figured out what to do with the several great truths that had been revealed to him thus far: among them that he was alone; that he was not going to get the world he wanted: and that he was thereby never going to get what he wanted from the world.

In describing the unbelievably constricted sleeping quarters (each person had to share a bed with another, so that one slept while one rowed, switching off every two hours), which including their salt water-sodden clothes, sleeping bags, and assorted detritus, Wilkins ultimately stated, "It was Facebook and Arsebook and Farcebook."

And then there's what Wilkins ultimately states in any perceived question from someone looking at this insanely dangerous trip and asking the very obvious question of "why?":

It was the significance of living boldly, of embracing a degree of risk, as we add years. I had by no means turned back the clock during our weeks at sea. If anything, it had turned me back. But for a few weeks I had at least stared it in the face. And in that I took a small measure of pride. If had proven anything about what was possible for those who refuse to accept the Verdict-- to 'go gentle into that good night,' as Dylan Thomas famously put it--I had proven it only to myself. I had gone, I had not croaked, I had returned. And for the rest of my life I would carry with me perhaps not the messages in any speakable sense so much as the immensity, the imponderables, of an experience that would never have had if I had accepted conventional wisdom and avoided the risks inherent in such a journey. And in the deepest recesses of my awareness, it was enough.

This is not the type of book I would normally pick up and read but, having had the opportunity to listen to the author talk about the adventure, show some fascinating pictures of the trip, and generally take us passive listeners on the trip of a lifetime, I had to pick it up and read it.

I'm so glad I did. ( )

Turn your imagination on. Picture yourself on a rowboat designed like a catamaran with an area of 8 small bunks and 8 rowing positions. There is one very small cabin for eating. You are assigned a bunk and a rowing position and for the next 7 WEEKS you will row for two hours, sleep/eat for two hours, and repeat. You will continue in this sequence even when your body is exhausted, you have no food and you will begin to wonder if you will ever see land again.

A great adventure story. ( )

This book was not quite what I expected. I had read and really enjoyed Rowboat in a Hurricane by Julie Angus a few years ago, and was expecting a similar tale of adventure and hardships and the power of nature while rowing across the Atlantic. Instead, this book was more about personalities clashing, bad decisions, food and supplies, and why the author decided to sign on for the ordeal. The book ended up being more like a reality show with too many personalities forced together by circumstances, and it often seemed that people were unkind to each other, so rather than pulling together, they just endured, and it all seemed like torture rather than a grand adventure. The psychology was interesting, but definitely not what I was hoping for. ( )