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Title: Island of the Lost: Shipwrecked at the Edge of the World
Author: Joan Druett
Genre: History (19th C maritime)
Thingummies: 4

Synopsis: A shipwreck leaves five men stranded on a sub-Antarctic island with little in the way of supplies and less hope of rescue. Excellent leadership and resourcefulness turns the little band into real-world Robinson Crusoes. In a bizarre coincidence, at the same time, another crew is shipwrecked on the other side of the island. The tragedy that results from the stunning lack of leadership on the part of the second captain illustrates the difference a leader can make in this real-life disaster story.

Thoughts: In third grade, when I repeatedly finished class assignments way ahead of the rest of the class, my teacher gave me a random book to keep me quiet while everyone else caught up. I don't think she actually gave much thought to which book to give me other than picking something advanced enough it would keep me busy for awhile before she'd have to find another one. The book happened to be Robinson Crusoe. I was totally hooked. Swiss Family Robinson, The Boxcar Children, Island of the Blue Dolphins, Hatchet, My Side of the Mountain, even the Babysitters' Club Babysitters' Island Adventure--I loved books about people ingeniously surviving in the wilderness.

It's odd, though--it seems like almost all of such books these days are aimed at kids. Maybe it's because children are in love with the idea of living on their own, without adults around to tell them what to do. But gradually, without realizing it, I stopped reading desert island novels.

Well, Island of the Lost fills that gap nicely. The crew of the Grafton have an amazing story. They managed to survive a year and a half in one of the most inhospitable places on earth. They built themselves a cozy house with a chimney in a place with no straight boards, came up with multiple courses of meals when they had only one available vegetable and four possible protein sources (seal, bird, fish, and limpet), made soap out of shells and charcoal, built cobblers' forms and made shoes out of sealskin they tanned themselves despite the low tannin plants, even built themselves a working forge with bellows. It's stunning. I'm pretty sure none of us could have survived this situation today--I'm pretty sure I would have died after a couple of weeks. These people kept themselves in clothes and food, and spent their evenings running a little school to improve their minds and keep up morale.

Meanwhile, the Invercauld manage to live down to some of the worst behavior possible. The officers give no leadership and instead listlessly take on airs. Most of the men lie huddled on the beach. They build no shelter, find no sustainable sources of food, show almost no initiative at all. They abandon their dying and seriously consider cannabalism as an alternative to hiking to look for food. It's a miracle as many of them survive as they do.

There's luck involved, of course--the Grafton wrecks a little earlier in the year, when it's easier to kill seals and learn to survive. More of their ship can be scavenged for supplies. But the Invercauld crew manage to lose what supplies they have to carelessness. They even discover the remains of a settlement, which barely helps them at all.

It's a heck of an adventure story. It's also a fascinating look at the difference personality can make in a disaster. Plus, it's a great little refresher course so that when you get stranded on a desert island, you can remember how to make lye.

Date: 2011-04-09 08:49 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] firynze.livejournal.com
Wow, that's really impressive. I may have to read this one; I had to read about Shackleton's ill-fated voyage as a freshman in college, and I was so impressed with their tale. This sounds like the Grafton crew seriously one-ups Shackleton's boys.

Date: 2011-04-10 01:13 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] jethrien.livejournal.com
Well, they both involve voyages in rowboats on the open ocean, but Shackleton was on an ice pack while the Grafton had some trees to work with. So I think Shackleton still wins. Still, interesting book.

Date: 2011-04-10 06:04 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] momerath4.livejournal.com
I totally remember Babysitters' Island Adventure! There was also another YA desert-island series that stuck with me—I think it was called Lost Girls, and the first two books were called Adrift and Alone. It was the same sort of thing—six teenage girls, all with very stereotypically distinct personalities (The Shy One, The Artist, The Leader, The Bitch, etc.) stranded during a sailing trip. I think what appealed to me about those types of books was the way the social dynamic develops when characters are put under duress and forced to rely on each other. That's probably one of the reasons I really liked Lost (there's an example of a non-juvenile desert-island narrative).

I'm impressed that you made it through Robinson Crusoe in third grade and liked it—I think I read it after college and found it a bit tedious (though I was partially irritated by the convert-the-natives thing).

Date: 2011-04-10 07:22 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] jethrien.livejournal.com
OMG! I totally read the first Lost Girls book! (I think the artist-girl mentioned Enya and I felt so sophisticated for already knowing who that was. *Self-directed eyeroll*)

I will point out that when the alternative to reading Robinson Crusoe is staring at your completed spelling worksheet for another half an hour, Robinson Crusoe becomes much more appealing. (I was also a kind of creepily precocious reader, though. The book thing verges on drug habit, and if it wasn't for libraries, would probably have a drug habit-like expense attached...)

Date: 2011-04-13 06:06 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] momerath4.livejournal.com
Oh, that's so funny that you read it too! I hadn't thought about those books in years. I don't remember the Enya bit, probably because I wasn't cool enough to know who it was (I was really, really uncool), but I do remember that I identified most with the artist girl for some reason.

Date: 2011-04-13 12:07 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] jethrien.livejournal.com
I promise you, Enya was never cool. I, too, was really, really uncool and my dad's taste in music continues to lean pretty darn uncool. (For awhile, he had the numbers memorized for every smooth jazz station from Washington to Boston. He could drive up the northeast corridor and have continuous smooth jazz.) So this is really more evidence of dorkiness, not coolness. :)

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