Trawler

I'm typically not a non-fiction fan, but my wife loves "real world adventure" books, and as a result "Trawler" hit my shelf. Now, to put things in perspective, I am a fiction writer, with two books under my belt: one about time travel, and one about zombie chickens (Cluck: Murder Most Fowl), so the fact that I enjoyed this riveting true story about fishing off the northern coast of Scotland should be a clear indicator that there's more here than boring facts and "oh my gosh it's cold out there" adventure prose. O'Hanlon is a master. A crazy master, sure, but a master nonetheless. The above statement that I enjoyed Trawler is perhaps a bit misleading. I LOVED this book. It made me laugh out loud on numerous occasions, and almost makes me want to head out into a Force 12 hurricane in January. Almost. The split-your-sides first-person commentary of the novice seaman Redmond O'Hanlon is interspersed with second-hand narratives of the crew: consisting of bank-indentured skipper; a marine biologist; and your typical assortment of cooks, engineers, fishermen and (to find the one common element among them all) crazy Scotsmen. The facts are fascinating, the adventure is fist-clenching (my copy is permanently warped), and the writing is fast-paced, eloquent, and excellent overall. Five stars for the book. Five more for O'Hanlon himself: if this is even 20% true he has a larger pair than I'll ever carry.

Though I don't generally read a lot of non-fiction, I'm interested in all things Scottish, and have a fascination with those who've chosen a life at sea. I discovered this book and, once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. It was an engrossing look at the lives of fishermen, and a fascinating character study of some very different men and how they respond differently under such an unfathomably stressful and exhausting experience.

If you're a fan of natural history and want to embark on a wild literary ride, don't miss Trawler. Another riveting yarn from Redmond O'Hanlon, this book is by turns thrilling, touching, and hilarious as its author hurtles and lurches into the lives of seafaring people most of us will never meet. Shades of Joseph Mitchell, Bruce Chatwin, and Studs Terkel.

Since reading the stories of the U-Boats and convoys in the North Atlantic in the middle of winter I've always wanted to see what it was like. This book cured me of any possible thoughts I might have had about actually doing something about it. Apparently the author had some of the same ideas. Unlike me he actually did something about it. I'm glad he did, now I don't have to. I learned from him that I especially do not want to go see the North Atlantic on a fishing trawler. The book is kind of strange in its way of writing. But I think he was trying to capture the actual nature of the conversations being conducted by sleep deprived men. He couldn't write this way, he couldn't think this way normally and be the successful author he is. I think that writing like this shows a lot more talent than the normal travelogue. This is a book that will make you think strange thoughts as you look at a piece of fish on your plate. If you want a book on going strange places, this is clearly the one.

So you've noticed. Some reviewers give enthusiastic accolades, while others seem to denounce it. But why such polarized views? This is where the "expectation" can ruin your appetite. It is probably safe to say that Trawler by Redmond O'Hanlon is a unique and unusual read for everyone. The book could have discussed a plethora of political, economical and ecological issues surrounding Scottish fishing industry. Or could the scholastic O'Hanlon have delved into the biology of deep sea fauna. Each of such approaches would have led to a great story, but as it is, Trawler is about something else. O'Hanlon chose to limit himself to what had actually happened aboard a commercial trawler out in the frigid North Atlantic. He decided to focus on a handful of unfamiliar experiences that made his trip very special; the relentless weather and the incessant physical labors, the severe sleep deprivation, the encyclopedic knowledge displayed by a young biology student on the ship and the curious comradeship (or shall we say, the shipmateship) among the rough, hard-talking crews. The horrific weather is evident throughout the book; the simplest move is with utmost difficulty. And the first casualty is, of course, the author's GI tract. There is very little sense of time passing, which testifies to the hectic but monotonous nature of the trade. But most importantly, it is the sense of sleep deprivation (miserable brain malfunction) that O'Hanlon succeeds most in conveying; the bombardment of non-stop, uncontrollable, loosely structured sentences. A big chaos. A real stream-of-consciousness. But he manages to stop short of becoming gibberish. Yes, there are numerous chaotic passages, but they are there to help the (mock) experience of the reader. With all these, Trawler still manages to be informative; Greenland halibut and Orange roughy (critically overfished in the North Atlantic; try to avoid them at grocery store), a fear of becoming uxorious (being overly fond of one's wife) and the concept of sexual selection and alpha mates (O'Hanlon seems to be obsessed with this). O'Hanlon has an aloof sense of humor but is also poignant at a few key moments. Overall, it is an entertaining read. About two-thirds into the book, at the height of this all-neurons-gone-haywire, O'Hanlon's conversation with one of the most rugged shipmates of all, Robbie, reaches a revelation; the reason why he approached this book in the way he did. A good effort.