What begins as an eccentric English love story turns into one of the most dramatic adventures ever recorded…
Maurice and Maralyn couldn’t be more different. He is as cautious and awkward as she is charismatic and forceful. It seems an unlikely romance, but it works.
Bored of 1970s suburban life, Maralyn has an idea: sell the house, build a boat, leave England — and its oil crisis, industrial strikes and inflation — forever. It is hard work, turning dreams into reality, but finally they set sail for New Zealand. Then, halfway there, their beloved boat is struck by a whale and the pair are cast adrift in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
On their tiny raft, their love is put to the test. When Maurice begins to withdraw into himself, it falls upon Maralyn to keep them both alive. Filled with danger, spirit, and tenderness, this is a book about human connection and the human condition; about how we survive — not just at sea, but in life.
An eminently readable and accessible account of an extraordinary experience, rendered with clarity and precision; for me, however, it seemed to sacrifice the drama and horror of the events.
What I Liked
- The extraordinary tale that formed the heart of the story
- The character of Maralyn and her relationship with Maurice
- The practicality and detailing of some of the activities on the raft
What Could Have Been Different
- More whale, as it featured so heavily on the cover both visually and lexically
- More drama in the language and the prose
- A different point of view
Many thanks to the publisher and to NetGalley for the ARC copy.
The real life story at the heart of this account, the 118 day survival ordeal adrift in the Pacific Ocean in a rubber raft, is extraordinary and a testament to the resilience and resourcefulness of the couple. It is – it must have been – a tale full of horrors and degradations. The emotional trauma of that hopelessness and isolation; the impact on their relationship; the visceral injuries and sores and indignities are unimaginable.
I found Elmhirst narrative and her language, however really very distancing and controlled. Whilst very readable and journalistic with occasaional citationa from Maralyn’s or Maurice’s notes and diaries, the writing felt rather… bloodless to me.
The account follows Maurice predominantly and opens with his unlikely first meeting with the more vivacious Maralyn. Maurice came across a little awkward in company and socially clumsy but within a few pages they were married and seconded unhappily in 1970s suburbia. The decision to sell everything and to buy a boat – a decision that I may be forced to replicate as our lease is due to expire increasingly imminently and house hunting has been … slow! – is made and within a few more pages, the Auralyn is setting sail from Southampton towards New Zealand.
I did enjoy the boating community camaraderie as Maurice and Maralyn made friends and celebrated and collaborated with others. I would perhaps have liked more of this – it would have made the subsequent isolation more extreme perhaps.
Elmhirst does not shy away from the bodily details of injuries in her account: the injuries on the whale whose breaching caused the shipwreck in the first place, the dissection and butchering of sharks and turtles and the sores that plagued their bodies. There are probably a number of readers who would find that a challenge – but it was described again with the Elmhirst’s controlled and clinical distance, without emphasising the shock or ick-factors.
Overall, it is a story I am glad I am aware of now, but it wasn’t a narrative that gripped me as much as I felt it should.
