Related topics: •  Book Review: Working on the Edge and Nights of Ice •  Fishers

The Perfect Storm
By Sebastian Junger
Harper
Paperback 301 pp $6.99

The Hungry Ocean
By Linda Greenlaw
Hyperion
Paperback 256 pp $14

With a remarkable eye for character and scientific detail, Sebastian Junger, a freelance journalist with a penchant for covering dangerous professions, penned a book based on the story of six Gloucester fishermen caught in a deadly nor'easter far off the coast of Newfoundland. His perseverance and years of research paid off; Junger's hugely popular book, The Perfect Storm, swept to the top of The New York Times bestseller list in 1997.

The Perfect Storm captured the nation's attention for several reasons. Junger's account of the actual storm, complete with waves two stories high and winds topping 120 miles per hours, reads like a plot straight out of Hollywood. But the book is more than just a riveting adventure story with a devastating climax. His tale humanizes one of the world's most romanticized -- and deadly -- occupations: commercial fishing. Just as Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air opened the gates to a flood of books about real-life Mount Everest expeditions, The Perfect Storm paved the way for those in the fishing profession to tell their stories.

Through difficult personal interviews and painstaking research, Junger recreates the final voyage of the swordfishing vessel the Andrea Gail and its six-man crew. It's not often that a reader knows a book's tragic end without that knowledge ruining the story. But in this case, although readers realize (or strongly suspect) the ship's fate by the end of the first page, this doesn't diminish the power of the tragedy's recounting.

In late September 1991, the Andrea Gail left the harbor of Gloucester, Massachusetts, headed for the Grand Banks on the final trip of the season. The Andrea Gail was a solid ship, and its captain, Billy Tyne, was much admired and excellent at his job. Any fishing hand lucky enough to land a spot on the crew stood a pretty good chance of coming home with enough money to live like royalty, at least until it was time to go back out to sea.

The lure of quick money can make people take unusual risks, and this is particularly true for commercial fishers, who can make several thousand dollars for a few weeks' work -- if they don't mind risking their lives on every trip. A typical trip requires them to set out miles of fishing line, haul the gear back in, then repeat the entire process again and again. Before and after the catch, they get only a few hours of sleep.

Each procedure has its own particular risks: Setting out lines, for example, a baiter could accidentally catch a hook through the hand and go overboard in seconds. It's not much safer hauling it back. The lines get pulled up so fast that hooks zinging around the deck can and do snag unsuspecting crew members. Junger also describes other hazards the crew is routinely expected to endure on the job, such as working inhumanely long hours at a breakneck pace. Add wet decks, pitching seas, and 500-pound thrashing fish with razor-sharp swords and things become even dicier.

In addition to these risks inherent to the job, fishing crews are also at the mercy of the weather. "Any weekend boater knows the Coast Guard will pluck him out of whatever idiocy he gets himself into, but [swordfishing] boats don't have that option," Junger writes. "They're working four or five hundred miles from shore, way beyond helicopter range." When something does go wrong, the result is often catastrophic.

That is certainly true in the case of the Andrea Gail. A couple of weeks into the trip, the boat has barely enough fish in the hold to cover expenses, fuel and supplies run low, and the ice machine crucial to preserving the fish malfunctions. Billy Tyne decides to make a run for the Flemish Cap -- fishing grounds located 600 miles from the area where the rest of the fleet is operating, and so far out it's nearly off the map. But after only an extra week out, the Andrea Gail is able to make up its loss. The crew is heading home via the Grand Banks, 400 miles off the coast of Newfoundland, when disaster strikes.

On Oct. 27, 1991, a hurricane off Bermuda, a cold front from Canada, and a storm over the Great Lakes begin to converge. Over the next 24 hours, these three systems collide and create unprecedented weather conditions. Waves 100 feet high and winds topping 120 miles per hour slam the Grand Banks. The Andrea Gail sends its last signal on the evening of Oct. 28. The boat and crew are never heard from again.

The Perfect Storm's strength lies in Junger's keen judgment in stepping aside to let the story tell itself. By tracing the Andrea Gail's voyage and recreating what may have happened to the men, Junger offers a convincing version without ruining its tragic ending. His use of details about Gloucester and the town's fishing history adds depth and richness to the narrative without detracting from the tribute to the six men lost at sea. Friends and family members recall conversations with the crew that create vivid images of each man's personality. It's easy to see them as real people, deeply loved and still sorely missed.

The Perfect Storm makes the reader feel almost like a Gloucester native for a time. But reading Linda Greenlaw's account of fishing, The Hungry Ocean, is like eavesdropping on a bunch of fishing hands swapping tales over their morning cuppa joe. It's a swordfish boat captain's story of a typical monthlong fishing trip, and Greenlaw makes no bones about following in the wake of interest generated by The Perfect Storm. In the preface to her book, she writes, "I have been fishing commercially for seventeen years, and up until the summer of 1997, no one cared." She wrote The Hungry Ocean after being inundated with questions about her life as the captain of a swordfishing boat who also happens to be a woman.

Sebastian Junger has high praise for Greenlaw, skipper of the Hannah Boden (which, by coincidence, is the sister ship to the Andrea Gail and one of the most profitable boats in Gloucester harbor). "Not only is Greenlaw one of the only women in the business, she's one of the best captains, period, on the entire East Coast," he says. Women expecting Greenlaw to rally feminists or provide inspiration for excelling in a field dominated by men will have to look elsewhere. Greenlaw doesn't touch on any difficulties she faced as a lone woman in her field. Despite occasional bursts of bravado (she takes exception to the word "fisherwoman"), it's clear she thinks of herself as just one of the guys. The trials and tribulations of her career are the same ones anyone in her position could have experienced.

Unlike other books on fishing, The Hungry Ocean doesn't belabor the dangers of life at sea. Although the book does acknowledge the risks, its appeal lies more in the numerous colorful, almost unbelievable, anecdotes it supplies. In one chapter, Greenlaw describes the time she was preparing the boat for an upcoming trip on a freezing winter morning when she spied what she thought was a dead body floating in the water. Greenlaw hauled the man out of Portland harbor single-handedly, only to discover that he was not dead, but hopelessly drunk. As the rest of the crew boarded, she learned that the rescued man was another crew member's uncle and had been hired by him to be the ship's cook. "Uncle Patty" was a severe alcoholic who eventually died on that same fishing trip. There was nowhere to dispose of his body, so Uncle Patty had to be stored in the ship's freezer on top of the bait fish until the boat returned home.

More than anything else, The Hungry Ocean provides an insider's view of a sea captain's role in leading the crew. The captain is part drill sergeant, part coach, part entertainer, and part baby-sitter. In addition to handling the conflicts that are bound to arise when people live in very close quarters for a month at a time, Greenlaw has had to cope with drug-addicted, racist, and dangerously ill crew members. But it is clear she commands the crew's loyalty. One of Greenlaw's most memorable crews affectionately refer to her as "Ma."

Greenlaw is a powerful and remarkable woman, and these qualities are readily apparent when she trades gibes with the men on her crew or praises their hard work and ability. However, when she tries to be introspective, her writing approaches the level of melodrama usually found only in made-for-TV movies. "My mind's eye, amazingly clear, turned the near darkness to bright sunshine. I saw a twelve-year-old girl on a beach holding a shell to her ear. She stared back at me, looking and listening for stories of the sea." Although she does allude to the difficulties of maintaining a home or relationship when most of your time is spent at sea, she leaves most of these passing references unresolved, never mentioning them again.

Despite its ominous-sounding name, The Hungry Ocean is not about the sea's tendency to swallow up sailors and their boats. Greenlaw's tales are for those who want to hear funny stories about life at sea. And after many accounts of the dangers of commercial fishing and the horrors that can result, a look at the lighter side of the profession is definitely a welcome change.

-- Jen Wieczorek is an associate editor at Consumer Health Interactive.

Last updated March 30, 2009
Copyright © 2000 Consumer Health Interactive

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