Annotations: Honor Frost's "Under the Mediterranean"

As part of a research project back in Fall 2008, I produced an annotated bibliography of 129 nonfiction texts, all associated with aquatic subjects. I read far further in water-related fiction and nonfiction in the last eight months, but I decided on the specific bibliography in relation to teaching my courses, English 1A, English 93, and the prospective elective "Literature and the (Aquatic) Environment." Of course, not all 129 books on my list would suit our courses, but I had to read (or reread) to discover such fitness or lack of fitness. I share my findings for each one itself and for the critical model at work.

Here is one of my favorite books in the bibliography:

Frost, Honor. Under the Mediterranean: Marine Antiquities. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1963. Print.

I love this book by Honor Frost. I would place it in my personal top 10 for non-fiction, though I haven't yet found another reader who will appreciate this text as much as I do. Still, I think certain chapters would work well in the right combination for English 1A, mostly because Frost has that elusive, yet vital quality of being able to ask the right questions. To my mind, asking the right questions is the key to any situation or endeavor, whether intellectual, ethical, emotional, or physical.

Here Frost exhibits her wonderful questioning in a volume half-memoir and half-analysis. Alongside Cousteau, Dumas, and Dugan, Frost was one of that first generation of divers in the Mediterranean who ushered in the dawn of scuba and the practical applications of such diving in the fields of archeology and history. Frost was the first female in such illustrious company, a friend and freelance underwater draftsperson and artist, an essential component for transforming underwater archeology from mere scavenging to an accurate, methodical, fully scientific discipline. Frost begins with her own introduction to diving (in a well in England), but most of the book is organized around types of wrecks, sites, or underwater problems, and the autobiographical material is used to illuminate as needed. Frost focuses her narrative via the problems and the questions that need or needed to be asked; this approach raised the book from the mere record of what-happened to a much more valuable and conscious model of the methodological.
For taste, I want to quote her description of a shipwreck (pictured above). After emphasizing particularly how, if understood properly, a shipwreck may be a time capsule of it's historical present far more than a building or site on land, Frost clarifies the essential and necessary differences between an excavation of a wreck on the sea floor and a building on land, with the essential differences in attitudes necessary for proper handling of either site. Here are Frost's words:

A ship is a mobile, integral mechanism: it reaches the sea-bed only by accident. As a wreck it undergoes a sea change before it becomes stabilized within the local geographical environment. Buildings, by contrast, are imposed on the ground by man's will; even in decay they maintain this direct relationship with the earth. These are differences that must be taken in account in marine excavation. A collapsed machine can be reconstructed if, first, we understand the way in which its parts have been redistributed, and second, we examine its remains in their entirety as a once functional unit. The excavator's approach to architectural remains is quite different, for the size and character of a ruined building can be assessed by trenching through its foundations at strategic points. (Frost, xxi)

Note how Frost moves in this quotation from clarifying the intellectual significance of a shipwreck to the necessary understanding of the underwater archaeologist, the excavator who must imagine the trajectory of the wreckage from the remains on the sea floor and who must have faith --no-- who must have the confidence in that wreckage as the residue of a fully functional, and thus understandable, machine, the ship. In short, when you keep the intact puzzle in mind, you may discern the relationships and placement of the pieces of the puzzle, scrambled though they may be, so much more readily and successfully. Frost says all that so much more succinctly, don't you think?

I've found this passage regarding the ship as "mobile, integral mechanism" useful as a reader and teacher of literary texts and literary lives. I've also approached most people and situations, I realized after reading this passage, as if they were "shipwrecks," if I may say that. We, all of us, reach where we are, become who we are, partially by will and largely by circumstance. And yet the direction of our original voyaging, say, may help others (and ourselves) to better understand the present self. Lord Byron, to use a convenient example, was an obvious "shipwreck" of sorts, and you can chart much more accurately his life, his work, and his effects on others if you keep the "mobile, integral mechanism" in mind even as you approach, say, the "collapsed machine" of 1816 in the wake of scandal, separation, and exile. Byron, as a model, kept afloat far longer than his critics would have credited; Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage III and IV being wondrous monuments to his swimming ability and survival.

As a historical note, "free diver" in Under the Mediterranean and in Cousteau's books refers to a scuba diver, not to a snorkeler as the term is used nowadays; in context, the scuba diver was so much more free than the brass-helmeted diver, trapped upright in lead boots, that he (and she) superseded.

Additionally, Honor Frost, though English, learned to dive in the French style, which arose from breath-hold spearfishing for food during World War II and after, so she brings the swimmer's and the snorkeler's prejudices and judgments to matters underwater. She began as a true free diver, one who begins with the human mechanism and organic considerations rather than with technology and the mechanical imposition of will onto recalcitrant matter and problems. As a swimmer, she's very attuned to the power and effects of gravity and flow, and I like that, whether physical or intellectual. I want to leave this entry with one last quotation:

The law of gravity becomes complex under water, but it is not beyond our comprehension.

I salute Honor Frost and her book as worthy models. And, rereading her book always makes me want to get in the water, the ocean, and to look around for myself.

Annotations: Delgado, Doubilet, and Drumm

As part of Fall 2008's research project, I have produced an annotated bibliography of 129 nonfiction texts, all associated with aquatic subjects. I read far further in water-related fiction and nonfiction in the last eight months, but I decided on the specific bibliography in relation to teaching my courses, English 1A, English 93, and the prospective elective "Literature and the (Aquatic) Environment." Of course, not all 129 books on my list would suit our courses, but I had to read (or reread) to discover such fitness or lack of fitness. I share my findings for each one itself and for the critical model at work.

Here are the next three books in the bibliography:

Delgado, James P. Adventures of a Sea Hunter: In Search of Famous Shipwrecks. Vancouver: Douglass & McIntyre, 2004.

This book is solid and informative, but finding shipwrecks just seems too technical and less fun than in the days of Mel Fisher. (Reminder: see Daley's Treasure.) I need to reread this book; maybe it's more fun than I recall (since I read it on an airplane to Hawaii, restless with anticipation of the diving ahead).

Doubilet, David. Water Light Time. New York: Phaidon, 2006.

Excellent book of photographs, particularly underwater photographs and just-at-the-surface photographs, much less common (and much less sought after, I guess). I put this book next to the 3-D photos when I want to give someone the best sense of being in the water without spraying them with a hose or tossing them off a dock. In other words, visually effective and engaging.

Drumm, Russell. In the Slick of the Cricket: A Shark Odyssey. New York: Penguin, 1997.

If you have ever seen Jaws, well, you've met the main figure of this book through the crusty, obsessive shark-killing character played by Robert Shaw, though the Frank Mundus of Drumm's book is a bit smoother than the film's Quint. Mundus is the star of the show, though Drumm's descriptions are the key to the book's effectiveness. I have been tempted to use this book in English 93 or 96, both for the obvious attraction of any shark-story and for the portrayal of psychology in action. I felt salty after reading this book, though also a bit depressed. In this world, there are too many shark-killers and too many dead sharks, but that's the subject of a different book.

Annotations: Richard Henry Dana

Dana, Jr., Richard Henry. Two Years Before the Mast: A Personal Narrative. New York: New American Library, 1964.

I should just quote Dan Duane's handling of this fine book in his Caught Inside--this fine book by educated Easterner Dana, college boy turned deckhand--but I won't. Wonderful guidebook through the world of a crewman as Dana ships out from the East Coast all the way down and around Cape Horn, up to California, and back. The chapters regarding California in the 1830's are classics, worthy of attention in a non-fiction English class treating local materials--though by "local" I must be including Santa Barbara and the Southern California coast. (Just as Duane does, I particularly like Dana's education via the Hawaiians' "work ethic": If we have enough money now for food, drink, and fun, why would we work?) California was part of Mexico at the time, and that aspect alone can provide the basis for good discussions into what students understand of California history. (I'm still looking for that Amazonian tribe and its queen that gave California her name.)

My parents believed in educating us even in our choice of comic books, and I first encountered Dana's story at a very young age through Classics Comics. I recall being captivated by the illustrations and dialogue presenting the tossing of cattle hides from clifftop to beach and then shouldering the hot, heavy hides through the surf out to a waiting boat. Why not throw those hides off the cliff instead of carrying them down? That seemed like an amazingly good question to ask, for me, at age 10 or so. (Years later, as an abalone diver on the North Coast, I'd remember this panel from the comic book and toss my own heavy lead weightbelt from the bluff down to the tideline. More recently, I tracked down a copy of that comic book and found those illustrations pretty much as I recollected.) In my 20's, I read Dana's narrative because Melville had read it and been influenced by it, and I kept the book on a shelf for revisiting.

P.S. In the Classics Comics version, the Hawaiians are edited out and replaced with Mexicans; I guess a comic book wouldn't have enough room to explain how Hawaiians were to be found working in Mexico's California. Still, the culture clash of work-driven 'Mericans and laid-back "natives" remains almost intact. Recall: Dana wanted to highlight the racism and cultural incomprehension that is so reprehensible.

Annotations: Robert Daley's TREASURE

Daley, Robert. Treasure. New York: Random, 1977.

If you have any interest in treasure-hunting and lost Spanish galleons, this gripping tale of Mel Fisher's long, often quixotic quest to find the Atocha and all the gold and silver that sailed inside her is the book for you. Mel Fisher's offbeat can-do attitude ranges from being inspiring to being terrifying; he puts himself and family members at great risk, financially and physically. The chapter detailing the unfortunate and accidental, though possibly preventable deaths of his eldest son, daughter-in-law, and crew members is very moving. I have read and reread this book for sheer engagement ("enjoyment" doesn't seem the right word) many times.

There are other versions of this story out there. I've looked at them, but Daley's narrative is the one for me.

Annotations: Lynne Cox, Swimmer

Cox, Lynne. Grayson. New York: A.A. Knopf, 2006.

I underestimated this book when it first came out, annoyed and distracted by the childishness (I thought) of the cover; also, I had thought the book a fictional fantasy of human-cetacean bonding. In fact, Grayson is a true account, well described, of the 17-year-old Cox's encounter with a seemingly lost baby whale during one of her usual training swims at Seal Beach, California, and of her efforts to swim with the whale, leading it away from the beach and the possibility of a fatal grounding, and to find the whale's mother . . . all while swimming. No boat, no jetski, no kayak, no surfboard, no airplane, no helicopter--and no wetsuit. Cox swims and swims and swims with the baby gray whale. As she describes all that water-time, we get vividly rendered scenes of swimming amidst schools of anchovies, with grunion, with tuna, with bat rays, with dolphins, and whales. Yes, the mother whale arrives to collect her errant offspring, and Cox heads for shore after about three hours in those rather chilly waters off Seal Beach. A well-told tale: I am glad that I have now read it, and I will give copies to family and friends as presents in the future.

This book could be a good English 90 or 92 text.

---. Swimming to Antarctica: Tales of a Long-Distance Swimmer. New York: Harcourt, 2005.

I discovered Cox's aquatic autobiography late in 2008, though I don't know how I had overlooked it before that. I love stories of open water swimming and of the strength of body, mind and spirit that such a pursuit demands. Jenifer Levin's novel Water Dancer has been a favorite novel on this topic for the last 25 or so years of my life--and I still love and prefer that novel to this book--but Swimming to Antarctica has the definite advantage of being non-fiction, of being a set of true tales. (I say "advantage" because students often prefer the non-fiction, the documentary, over stories that are merely made up. Fiction has its own advantages.) Cox is a very determined individual, more positive thinking than anyone I know, and with the life experiences and adversity to back up her positive modeling.

I recommend this book, and I started recommending it before I even finished it, as I read through that first chapter. I am now recalling the chapter in which Lynne Cox sets a record for crossing the English Channel at age 16, and I am wanting to know more; I want to reread now. Where's my copy of Swimming to Antarctica?

(Isn't that the best response to any book?)

Annotations: Jacques-Yves Cousteau

Cousteau, Jacques-Yves, with James Dugan. The Living Sea. New York: Ballantine, 1975.

Jacques Cousteau has always been one of my heroes. I have been a diver most of my life because of my father, my Uncle Bob, and Captain Cousteau. Here is one of his classic texts, a little dated now (originally published in 1963), but still a fine introduction to life in the sea and to human efforts to enter, to observe, and to understand that undersea life.

More importantly, perhaps, this book guides us through the earliest period of scuba-diving and the slow process of applying this new technology of diving to exploring the underwater world, revolutionizing the whole fields of marine biology and oceanography. I've always been a particular aficionado of this early period when scuba was new--and Jacques, remember, was a crucial co-inventor of scuba--and I have always loved reading about that learning curve, that series of trials and errors. Mostly, I just love going underwater with my hero. (Cousteau's famous ship, the Calypso, is the star of much of this book also. Cousteau and her crew are predominantly French, so they needed a container on shipboard that could hold enough wine: a stainless steel "barrel" able to hold three tons of prime vintage!)

I would use excerpts from this book and the next, but the style doesn't work as well as the subject matter does. For a truly inspiring author from this early period of scuba, I turn to Honor Frost, as we shall see.

Cousteau, Jacques-Yves, with Frederic Dumas and James Dugan. The Silent World. New York: Ballantine, 1977.

My favorite of Cousteau's books, originally published in 1950. I always wanted Cousteau to be my father when I first read as a young man--and even as I reread--his description of introducing his two sons to the undersea world. In this volume, we get the true beginning of the scuba-story, complete with the free diving foundation, staving off starvation during World War II through spearfishing (with curtain rods, actually). This book provides the beginning and middle of the "menfish" dream that inspired Cousteau in his efforts to penetrate and plumb the depths; the end of that dream still lies in the future, I would hope and claim. Every diver everywhere owes something to Jacques; when warming up after my own dives, I wear the signature red stocking cap in honor of the Calypso's captain and crew.

Note: The undersea world is actually quite noisy; everybody who puts his or her head underwater for any length of time knows this, and so Cousteau has received a certain amount of criticism and even ridicule for his apparently inappropriate title. If you actually read the book, you find the episode in which his two boys are so excited as their father puts masks on their faces and regulators in their mouths and brings them underwater amongst the fishes, so excited that they can't stop talking, not even to breathe properly, talking so much that the regulators keep falling out of their mouths. Cousteau attempts to focus his children--and safeguard them--by pointing out that the sea is a "silent world" and they need to stop talking for a bit -- and perhaps participate in that "silence" or at least listen, but the two boys are simply too excited by the wonders before them to listen to their father. Who can blame them?

Hence, his quite appropriate and memorable title.

Annotations: Eddie Would Go

Coleman, Stuart Holmes. Eddie Would Go: The Story of Eddie Aikau, Hawaiian Hero and Pioneer of Big Wave Surfing. New York: St Martins, 2001.

I like this book, and I like to use it in my English 93 classes.

At first, I felt the book presented a key Hawaiian figure, Eddie Aikau, in a fine, though perhaps too journalistic way. By that I mean, when I assign books to my students, I want the style and the organization as well as the obvious subject matter to be worth attention and emulation, and I underestimated Coleman's presentation at first. His style on the level of the sentence is solid, though unremarkable; however, his organization on the chapter level and within each chapter is intelligent and thoughtful, worth close attention, especially at the English 93 level.

I also appreciate this book for the heroics and the frailty of the main figure, Eddie Aikau. I appreciate the presentation of Hawaiian history, of the difficult and necessary Hawaiian Renaissance, and of specific personal and social issues that waylay the people in the book. The writing is accessible and engaging, and yet in assigning the reading, I can be demanding in terms of student understanding and retention of information in ways that seem perfectly appropriate and useful.

I have teamed this book with three documentaries: Heart of the Sea, Surfing for Life, and Bustin' Down the Door. The first two videos offer significant models for living that our students deserve to be faced with: legendary and extraordinary Rell Sunn, her pioneering surf-career, and her fight against breast cancer; Doc Ball, Fred van Dyke, Peter Cole, Woody Brown, Rabbit Kekai, Anona Napoleon, among others--all surfers in their 60's, 70's, 80's, and 90's! Both videos offer lots of history and social issues as well. The third documentary--Bustin' Down the Door--had a mainstream theatrical release in the summer of 2008, so you may have seen it recently. Eddie Aikau and his brother Clyde Aikau both appear in the film, though the focus is on the Australian and South African surfers who galvanized the sport, who created a professional sport, of surfing. Coleman devotes a chapter to the material in the Bustin' DVD, so using the video is actually essential. (Besides, the tale of Rabbit Bartholomew and Shaun Tomson is gripping in its own right.)

On Deck: Flotsametrics! (Recommended Reading)

I've just started this book, but I'm finding it a fascinating read. The title and subtitle may be enough of a teaser and guide.

Ebbesmeyer, Curtis & Eric Scigliano. Flotsametrics and the Floating World: How One Man's Obsession with Runaway Sneakers and Rubber Ducks Revolutionized Ocean Science. New York: Harper Collins, 2009.

Annotations: Eugenie Clark

Clark, Eugenie. Lady with a Spear. New York: Harper & Bros., 1953.

When I was a boy, I'm fairly sure I had a crush on Eugenie Clark, photogenic female star of many underwater science segments. After reading her autobiography, I can also appreciate what a ground-breaking scientist she was--as a female, one of the lone females, in the very masculine world of marine biology. Her book presents her scientific research through the lens of adventure in the South Pacific. The many photographs of Eugenie Clark reminded me of that old schoolboy infatuation.

Annotations: Chowdhury & Clark

Chowdhury, Bernie. The Last Dive: A Father and Son's Fatal Descent into the Ocean's Depths. New York: Harper Collins, 2000.

A detailed document of a tragedy, psychological profiling, and clear-eyed descriptions of diving, salvaging, and aquatic adventure . . . and yet I can never keep the specific details of the book in my mind. Perhaps the father/son issues are too close to home for me, though I don't think so. I'm glad I read the book, and yet I guess I need to reread it.

Clark, Eleanor. The Oysters of Locmariaquer. New York: Harper, 2006.

I love this book, and I even learned to love oysters after reading it. While I prefer more localized books for this project, I enjoyed learning the French history and processes of oyster-farming. Clark writes lyrically at times, and her more everyday paragraphs still sing. I love reading practical material, but I really love practical material in a clear, individual style, with a voice that sounds like itself, not like anyone else, and yet that uniqueness is an invitation, not a barrier, to go deeper and further into the subject. Am I gushing too much?

Annotations: Patagonia's Chouinard

Chouinard, Yvon. Let My People Go Surfing: The Education of a Reluctant Businessman. New York: Penguin, 2005.

Chouinard is the founder and CEO of Patagonia, the climbing/sports-equipment/clothing company that specializes in good relations between management and employees, between consumers and what's consumed, between humanity and the Earth. Here, Chouinard provides the history of the company from the first climbs and the first ironmongery offered for sale, even as he clarifies the philosophy, radical as it is, that a capable, competitive company and happiness really may go hand in hand in (corporate) America. A blueprint of sorts, a philosophical treatise, certainly: I've used sections of this book with students in the past. Chouinard tells stories well, and he has the stories well worth sharing.

A real adventure narrative, and yet all business, too, in the best sense.

Annotations: Castro, Charton & Tietjen, & Chase

Castro, Peter, and Michael E. Huber.  Marine Biology.  7th ed.  Boston: McGraw Hill, 2007.

This is the text assigned by Dr. Bibit Traut and Dr. Dean Lauritzen for the Fall 2008 Bio 32: Marine Biology, the class I took during my sabbatical.  These two instructors team-taught the course, and they are lively, worthy lecturers.

I own the first edition of Marine Biology, and I can attest that this 7th edition is a wonderful improvement over a solid original text.  Castro and Huber write clearly, and their textbook offers appropriate illustrations and organization.    As a student somewhat familiar with the subject, but still new to many aspects of this complex field of exploration and discovery, I was very pleased by this text.  

Charlton, Barbara, and John Tietjen.  The Facts on File Dictionary of Marine Science.  New York: Facts on File, 1988.

When I wanted to check specific terms of marine science and I didn't have access to the internet, this is the book that I turned to.  Often, I have needed fuller explanations, but to get the basics quickly, this has been a handy reference.  I was glad I had the book, though I don't know whether I would recommend it.

Chase, Owen.  Narrative of the Most Extraordinary and Distressing Shipwreck of the Whaleship Essex.  New York: Lyons, 1999.

A classic presentation, especially for anyone interested in whales, whaling, or Melville's Moby Dick.   I picked up this book on all three accounts, but also because the 19th century is yet another fascinating century for study.  (Aren't they all?)  Yes, here we have evidence that a whale really did sink a whaleship.  Chase's account, written in 1821, is readable and gripping, a nice antidote to the poisonous claim that everything written in previous centuries is unnecessarily long-winded and lacking grip.

Annotations: W. Hodding Carter

Carter, W. Hodding. Off the Deep End: The Probably Insane Idea That I Could Swim My Way Through a Midlife Crisis--And Qualify for the Olympics. Chapel Hill, NC: Algonquin, 2008.

The title really does tell you what you'll get, but Carter isn't quite as insane as his goal may seem. On the one hand, a classic midlife crisis in action, and on the other, a great how-to for training to swim at an Olympic level, this book takes you for a ride. Carter has an engaging (or annoying, for some) lack of embarrassment as he documents some truly stupid behavior. Mostly, he offers a model of crisis, self-assessment, positive response, frailty and partial failure, and finally, actual progress in self-awareness, commitment and performance. (As a 47-year-old male, I like watching someone else go through the rough stuff and emerge at least somewhat victorious, even if chastened.)

P.S. What's the name of the 40-something swimmer who did reach the Olympic Games this past year? Well, not Hodding Carter, but still . . . .

---. A Viking Voyage: In Which an Unlikely Crew of Adventurers Attempts an Epic Voyage to the New World. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2000.

The first book by Carter I'd read. Here, he presents a potentially silly obsession that he manages to take from an idle thought (and he has a boatload of those) to serious completion, struggling and straggling all the way. One part how-to-build-a-viking-boat and another part friendships-are-built-on-shared-adversity, the book is a model of having a goal and getting to the goal-line. Very humorous too.

Annotations: Rachel Carson

Carson, Rachel.  The Edge of the Sea.  Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1955.

While The Sea Around Us is the better known volume, I prefer The Edge of the Sea because I prefer . . . the edge of the sea, the intertidal zone, the rocky shores, sandy beaches, and even the mudflats.  Here, Carson walks us through the different types of shores, of creatures, and of plants.  I was happy to reread this volume for this project.  I'd forgotten how well Carson presents the material; the book is academic without the mere dryness of most academic texts.

---.  The Sea Around Us. Revd. Ed.  New York: Signet, 1961.

Carson's book is a classic, and it is still relevant.  Her accurate and practical descriptions of the ocean and of ocean processes are presented in a style that can only be described as poetic and philosophical.  Grounded in reality, the book still soars.  I am always cheered up by reading even a few pages of this book.

Annotations: Broad, Carey, Carr

Broad, William J. The Universe Below: Discovering the Secrets of the Deep Sea. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1997.

Broad is a Pulitzer-Prize-winning science writer, who had two books on Stars Wars Weapons Systems under his belt before he shifted from sky-high to ocean-deep. The deep sea is one of the last territories on Earth to be explored, and Broad brings us up to date (into the 90s, anyway) through interviews, explanations, and some adventuring of his own. My favorite chapter, which I could excerpt for English 1A or for an aquatic-literary elective, is "Canyon," an in-depth look at the vast submarine canyon in our nearby Monterey Bay. The Packard family and MBARI, the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute, are the stars for this epic descent.

Carey, Robin. Baja Journey: Reveries of a Sea-Kayaker. College Station, TX: Texas A & M UP, 1989.

Carey is an English professor from the Pacific Northwest, on vacation in the waters of Baja Mexico, full of thoughts of Shakespeare, the local scenes, and human frailty: philosophical, but with groundedness, despite being all about the water.

After reading this book, I rented a kayak and explored Monterey Bay for a few hours. Yes, I spent a little thought on Shakespeare and I considered how much colder it was off Monterey than off Cabo San Lucas, but mostly I thought how getting closer to the surface of nature really can get you closer to yourself, in the best ways possible.

Carr, Archie. So Excellent a Fishe: A Natural History of Sea-Turtles. New York: Anchor, 1972.

Carr's book is the Bible for sea turtle science, at least for many people. My wife is now reading this book in preparation for her own trip to Costa Rica and to the specific turtle station in Tortuguero. Carr sets the bar high with this in-depth study. He also walks the reader through the developing body of knowledge as he and other researchers work to answer the questions that beset them. How do turtles know how to navigate? Must they return to the same beaches they were hatched on? Where do the turtles go while developing from hatchlings to young adults, since no one seems to know: And further questions. Carr reports what he learns, and he includes us in the learning process, which makes the book and enjoyable and worthy model for thinking and discovering the things of the world.

P.S. Since Carr's book was published in 1972, obviously there are more up-to-date treatments, but So Excellent a Fishe is foundational. If all you want is information, then pick a more recent book. Indeed you should--I should--read current material too. Carr's book takes you on the journey, and that's a compelling consideration, I hope. (As a further note, the more recent reprints reverse the subtitle and title, making the book easier to discover when looking for sea turtle material: A Natural History of Sea-Turtles.)

Annotations: Birkett, Blossom, Blum

As part of a research project, I have produced an annotated bibliography of 129 nonfiction texts, all associated with aquatic subjects.

Here are three more entries:

Birkett, Dea. Serpent in Paradise. New York: Anchor, 1998.

This is an annoying book that I finished more to find out about Pitcairn Island, the most isolated inhabited island on the Earth, than to discover anything more about the author. Generally, I like such a mix of autobiography, obsession, history, sociology, and adventure, but in Birkett's hands, the narrative becomes a spiteful, depressing pile of gossip and innuendo at the expense of the Pitcairn Islanders who were good enough to welcome Birkett to their very small island. Still, worth reading once to find out what has been happening to the Pitcairn Islanders since Fletcher Christian and his crew of mutineers began to populate this refuge after the Mutiny on the Bounty. Or, barely worth reading? I'm still debating that one.

Blossom, Laurel, Ed. Splash: Great Writing about Swimming. Hopewell, NJ: Ecco, 1996.

Blossom's anthology is a mix of fiction and nonfiction, actually. It's a fine collection that brings together classic short pieces (Cheever's "The Swimmer" and Updike's "The Lifeguard") with a full array of poetry and practical nonfiction all on the theme of swimming. I wish that Ben Franklin's lessons on how to swim were included also, but I know where to find that piece anyway.

Blum, Mark. Beneath the Sea in 3-D. San Francisco: Chronicle, 1997.

I love this photographic wonder: just as the title says. Whenever I teach essays regarding the ocean or fish or even just looking closely to discover truly, I bring this book and pass it around. Chronicle Books has a winner here.

Annotations: Bascom, Bentos, Berrill & Berrill

As part of a research project, I have produced an annotated bibliography of 129 nonfiction texts, all associated with aquatic subjects.

Here are three more entries:

Bascom, Willard. The Crest of the Wave: Adventures in Oceanography. New York: Anchor, 1990.

Great book. If I had been able to read this book at age twelve, I'd probably be an oceanographer. Bascom has led a vital, varied professional life within that general rubric of oceanographer, and he obviously relishes challenges and learning from challenges. Bascom's narrative lives up to its title, since he was a forerunner in many oceanographic fields. An excellent book to show the advances of technology through the hands-on efforts of actual scientists. I can imagine using excerpts in my English 1A classes along with other essays on practical scientific topics.

P.S. I love the chapter in which Bascom and a fellow scientist use the most modern tool at the time for measuring the ascending depths of the beaches in Washington and Oregon: lead and line. One man drove the amphibious craft from deep water through the surf and up unto the beach, and the other man heaved and retrieved the lead-weighted line, calling out specific depths as they careened through whitewater and onto the sand. Then, Bascom and company hit surf and sand again and yet again. (After such labor, Bascom went on to birth Waves and Beaches, the standard academic text on the subject for many years.)


Bentos, Carlos. A Crew of One: The Odyssey of a Solo Marlin Fisherman. New York: Penguin Putnam, 2002.

Bentos tells a good story, and he has the experience to back it up. Most marlin fishermen work in teams. Bentos does it all--solo. A good book to set beside Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea, though Hemingway is still the better writer and tells the better story.


Berrill, N.J., and Jacquelyn Berrill. 1001 Questions Answered About the Seashore. New York: Dover, 1957.

The title tells you all, or pretty much. Some of the material is outdated, but the ambition of this book and the practicality of approaching science through reasonable Q & A predates the Frequently Asked Questions so common, and rightly so, today. I like to browse in this book, and I am planning to offer sections to students to model inquiry, response, and habits of organization.

Annotations: Ahrens, Ambrose, Bartholomew

As part of a research project, I have produced an annotated bibliography of 129 nonfiction texts, all associated with aquatic subjects. I read far further in water-related fiction and nonfiction in the last eight months, but I decided on the specific bibliography in relation to teaching my courses, English 1A, English 93, and the prospective elective "Literature and the (Aquatic) Environment." Of course, not all 129 books on my list would suit our courses, but I had to read (or reread) to discover such fitness or lack of fitness. I share my findings for each one itself and for the critical model at work.

Here are the first three books in the bibliography:

Ahrens, Chris. Good Things Love Water: A Collection of Surf Stories. Cardiff, CA: Chubasco, 1994

This is a playful collection, good on details and in touch with the early days of the Southern California and Hawaiian surf-scenes. Mostly, Ahrens shares stories from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. He sets up each story, and then lets the narrative unfold. Ahrens has a bit of a chip on his shoulder--past teachers had told him he'd never be a writer--but that just adds energy to the delivery.


Ambrose, Greg. Shark Bites: True Tales of Survival. Honolulu, HI: Bess Press, 1996.

The perfect beach read, in its way, with these stories of shark attacks in an accessible, brief form: "bites." Not much in the way of science, but the emphasis on the human element makes this volume good for borrowing to use with students.


Bartholomew, Wayne "Rabbit," and Tim Baker. Bustin' Down the Door. New York: Harper Collins, 2002.

Set mostly in the mid-1970s, Bustin' Down the Door is a useful history through the eyes of a key participant in the short board revolution and in the Hawaiian/Australian explosion when the trash-talking sports from Down Under discover that the native Hawaiians, frustrated by the history and legacy of oppression by outsiders, consider such trash-talking to be disrespectful to a potentially fatal degree. The book documents both Rabbit's career and the development of professional surfing.

The DVD of the same name would be a wonderful companion; the DVD is better at focusing on the developing dream of professional surfing, as surfing as an actual sport in popular culture, than the book. The DVD would be the better choice when teamed with Coleman's Eddie Would Go.


Postscript: Good sports writing and popular science writing can be golden for our students. Real-world-based prose (if that phrase works for you); usually accessible to the common reader, though usually demanding as well; often quite dramatic in nature; replete with information, imagery, and action.