I admit it. I’m a ship-lit freak.
CS Forrester’s Horatio Hornblower, Douglas Reeman’s Richard Bolithio, Brian Callison’s Trapp and John Wingate’s encyclopedic knowledge of the sea all have suffered from my addiction. Give me a book about war at sea and I have disappeared for a day.
I found Alexander Fullerton’s “Westbound, Warbound” on a remainder shelf and it sat on my TBR pile for about a month. Then it could no longer be resisted.
The coming of age of Andy, the young third mate of the Pollyanna in oceans filled with German raiders, up the east coast of South and North America and across the Atlantic to Glasgow.
The Pollyanna is not a warship. She is a ship in a war, carrying supplies to a needy home country.
There is plenty of derring-do and death and lucky survival but as with all good sea tales, the major player is the ocean herself. Giant North Atlantic seas testing the rivets of Britain’s pride.
Worth the read without being outstanding, Westbound, Warbound is a readable story by a competent author.