Seamanship: A Voyage Along the Wild Coasts of the British Isles

Occasionally, a quick background of the reviewer is necessary to give weight to the review. I am the son of a hardscrabble Scottish coal miner and shoe-repairer. I am less than likely to approve of a book written by an English, upper-class, Eton-educated member of the landed gentry who happens to own a Scottish island. (Billy Connolly immediately comes to mind: "Oh, do ye really THINK so?") And yet I loved this book. It is not perfect. The title is just plain inappropriate. It fails as a travel book because that is not its intent, and it fails in clarity because only towards the end is it revealed that he HIRED his friend George Fairhurst to skipper the boat, which only then makes understandable the early section where he describes himself gallivanting up the Skelligs for endless hours while his "friend" keeps the boat on station by running its engine and constantly steering. But the man can write rings around the world. His description of the ridiculously-inaccessible Skelligs, or more accurately his thoughts about them, make a visit there simultaneously unnecessary AND mandatory. Yes, he is a rich dilettante. Yes, he has an over-grand sense of his place in the world. Yes, his "mea culpa" description of his social mistakes (like hiring a good friend and then treating him like an employee) is suspect in sincerity. But it comes down to this: the man can write rings around the world. This is a supremely enjoyable and educational book by a rather naked, somewhat-annoying person.

I picked this book up before leaving on a cruise and sat on my balcony deck to read much of it. When I got home, I read in it each night before bed. It's a beautifully written book, has much adventure and describes the landscapes and ocean well. These men had to reach down deep to do the things they did and I admire them. I enjoyed the book and am glad I got to read it. Now I'm going to read Capt. Joshua Slocum's book..."Sailing Alone Around the World."

an excellent book for anyone who is fascinated by the outer hebrides as i am.

SEAMANSHIP is author Adam Nicolson's account of his 1,500-mile voyage along the outer fringes of the British Isles aboard the 42-foot ketch "Auk". Perhaps I should have realized the thrust of Nicolson's narrative sooner. Indeed, as soon as I opened the front cover, seen the extent of the voyage as depicted on two end page maps, and then noted that this small hardcover is only 177 pages long with relatively large print. I mean, if one is sailing from Falmouth in Cornwall across the Celtic Sea to Ireland's southern tip, then back across to Cornwall, north to southwestern Wales, across the Celtic Sea again, up along Ireland's west coast, across to Scotland, up through the Inner and Outer Hebrides, east to the Orkney Islands, and finally ending far to the northwest in the Faeroes, how much description of so many places can be jammed into such a small space? Disappointingly little, if that's what you're looking for. Rather than a travelogue in the traditional sense, SEAMANSHIP is more a ruminative consideration of Sailing Man's relationship to the Sea and his Ship, and, in this volume specifically, Adam's success (or not) in manly bonding with the Auk's skipper, George. Nicolson's philosophical bent is well represented by the following passage: "The nature of the voyage is set before you cast off. A sea passage is shaped by the boat's time attached to the land. Every moment at sea is dependent on, and even twinned to, a moment in harbor. What a boat sails on and in is not only the ocean and the wind but the days, weeks, and months tied up alongside." And, using a mixed metaphor: "That is why death at sea is such a casual affair. Death has no need to approach ... It doesn't come rolling on like a swell, proceeding grandly towards you with its bosom before it and its intentions clear. Death is already there, a few feet away, resting beneath the table, its head on its paws and a smile in its eyes, happy to accept the scraps that fall." I love the landscape of the British Isles more than any other place on Earth, especially its wild, wave and wind-ravished margins. Here, the author's description of the ancient monastic island off the Irish coast, Skellig Michael, almost brought tears of longing to my eyes. I wanted to visit the place myself - now. But, for me, there wasn't enough of such descriptive power between this book's covers to satisfy a raging wanderlust. SEAMANSHIP is far from being a bad read. Whereas I'm only awarding 3.5 stars (translated to four by an inadequate rating system), one more in tune with Nicolson's lyrical prose will emphatically award five and excoriate me for my shallow obtuseness. This is a book you must read and decide upon for yourself.

This book is not, as you might expect from the title, a book on how to make the boat go where you want it. Instead it is a love story. It's about a love for the sea, for the boat, for life itself. Nominally it's the story of a voyage along the Atlantic coasts of England, Ireland, Scotland, and the islands north of there. It's partly the story of the trip; it's partly a philosophy of life, of man putting himself and his wind propelled boat against the elements. Mr. Nicolson has a way with the written word that makes his prose almost like poetry or music in the hands of another. I'm not a boating person, but it almost makes me want to go find a sailboat. Delightful story.