His acolyte and guard, the hugely built mercenary soldier, Arent Hayes, sits miserably in the rowboat beside him, watching the East Indiaman Saardam as they get near. To him, it seems huge, a towering construction, far too large to float. To us, it would seem about the size of a modern ferry, and it certainly was no cruise ship.
Strange things have happened already. On the wharf, a ghostly leper with his tongue cut out still manages to croak a warning, seconds before he is mysteriously set on fire. A satanic sign appears on the first sail to be set, drawn in ash. The ship, obviously, is haunted, and probably doomed. Sailing on the Saardam looks a lot like a death warrant.
There are strange people on board, as well. There is Sara, the defiant and badly beaten wife of the Governor General of Batavia, who is also carrying his mistress, the seductively beautiful Creesjie Jens, who is Sara's best friend. The captain, Crauwels, is an ambitious fop who appears to have been bought. There is the obsequious chamberlain, who has secrets of his own, along with a hidden lust for Creesjie. And then there is the crew, a surly, superatitious bunch, led by a sadist riven with guilt for past atrocities, and a dwarf. Too, there are the musketeers, vicious and murderous to a man.
And, despite it all, the Saardam sets sail, accompanied by six ships in an illfated convoy.
Though the author did not know it was going to happen, it was quite a challenge for him to be read and reviewed by a maritime historian. I've been on board the replica Half Moon and sailed a short way on the replica of the little Duyfken on Darling Harbour, so I guess I know my stuff, having read a lot of technical books as well. I was highly pleased to find he got most things right -- the dampness, the smells of slowly rotting spices, the crowded decks, the mutinous seamen who anticipated pirates, storms, ghastly illness, horrible rations, and slimy drinking water, men who defecated over the side, and pissed into tubs so they could soak their greasy slops. And, in the style of the time, as well as of the sea, riven by dark superstitions.
I did get a little tired of them dropping anchor every night in the open sea, but the author confessed that though he had done his research, he had happily discarded anything that didn't suit his plot. The captains (and crews) did refuse to sail at night, so though they hauled the ships aback a different way, it was easy to forgive Stuart Turton. He had his reasons and was open and honest about them. So, okay.
To tell the utter truth, I loved this book. The plot, with its ghostly leper haunting the ship, the hoarse whispers from the hull promising the crew magnificent rewards if they did dreadful things, was both crazy and compelling. The wellknown superstitious nature of the era certainly helped, but it was mostly carried along by the wonderfully drawn and complex characters. Sara and Arent were particularly wonderful, but another favorite was Sara's daughter, Lia, a prodigy who was not allowed to reveal her genius because she was a girl.
A page-turner, definitely. Read it. And don't neglect to read the author's acknowledgements and notes, which are the most amusing I have ever perused, along with his Apology to History, and Boats, which fully explains any maritime lapses he made.
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