Book review: The Last Whaler

The Last Whaler” by Nicholas Stevensson Karas is based on a true story of a Shinnecock Indian who was kidnapped by the first mate of the whaling ship Tranquility in 1865.

It seems that during the heyday of whaling, any ship that sailed out of Sag Harbor had a Shinnecock harpooner on board. To be without was considered a guarantee of failure. The Shinnecocks were skilled whalers and taught the white men how to hunt the great beasts that used to roam in vast herds throughout the Atlantic. No Shinnecock could be persuaded to sign onto the Tranquility’s voyage, however, which would certainly last several years and had no guarantee of success. In desperation and to avoid mutiny by the superstitious crew before the ship even left, the first mate was ordered to kidnap a Shinnecock, the youth Ben-quam, and hold him in the forecastle until the ship left Sag Harbor.

In the novel, Mr. Karas, who is none other than Nick Karas, the outdoor columnist for Newsday for 25 years, eschews political correctness and sticks to the usage of the time—indians, negroes, etc.

The Tranquility was the second-to-last whaling ship to sail out of Sag Harbor. The whaling industry had seen better days and people in 1865 were, for the most part, using kerosene to light their lamps.

In a prologue, Mr. Karas notes, “Whaling in America reached its zenith in 1848 when 735 whaleships with more than 70,000 men sailed from four major Northeast ports. But, on the down side, the explosive search for whales and their oil to light the lamps of this nation and smooth the start of the industrial revolution had reduced a once large population of these behemoths to scattered sighting in both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.”

Though the book begins and ends with the story of Ben-quam, he plays only a minor role in the narrative. The protagonist is Andrew Lester, the incredibly decent and compassionate first mate, his brother Hiram Lester, the indecisive captain, Ephraim Brown, the ship’s bursar (who always had his eye on the bottom line) and the troublesome nephew of the bursar, Abe Brown, the temporary fourth mate—serpent in the garden. Both Hiram and Andrew hope to find a more suitable person for the job as they sail through the islands of the Caribbean.

Abe Brown talks like this: “Most of ya Greenies done know me, but ya will. An’ yous’ll regret it.” To which this reviewer says, “Fughedaboudit.” A writer attempts dialect at his peril.

Mr. Karas has a tendency towards cliché, the besetting sin of journalists everywhere. Something is “burned in the memory.” “A slight smile spreads across his lips.” I counted six spreading smiles and then stopped counting.

But Mr. Karas keeps the narrative moving along at a good clip and we helplessly turn the page to see what will happen next. At least some of the urgency of the narrative is due to the fact that the entire book is written in the present tense.

Each of the principal characters takes on the flesh of reality as the plot unfolds. And Mr. Karas certainly knows his way around a boat. I give nothing away by noting that Tranquility comes to a very untranquil end.

Ben-quam is the only survivor and ends his days as a chief on a Polynesian island. He is discovered in 1942 by merchant seamen who have lost their ship to the Japanese in the beginning of the Second World War.

According to Mr. Karas, Ben-quam was the last pure-bred Shinnecock. Mr. Karas doesn’t substantiate the historical claim, but “The Last Whaler” is, as the British used to say, “a ripping good yarn,” filled with danger, bravery, much whaling lore, and the salt tang of the sea. I enjoyed it tremendously.