Wake of the Perdido Star

by Gene Hackman, Daniel Lenihan Narrated by James Daniels

Overview

Jack O' Reilly is a 17-year-old New Englander who in 1805, sails with his parents on the Perdido Star to Cuba, his mother's birthplace, to claim the land she inherited. But for Jack, the trip that began with high hopes and the excitement of a new life, becomes a descent into violence and revenge. His parents murdered, their land confiscated, his own life nearly taken, Jack is forced to rejoin the Star as a member of the crew, sailing through the world's most treacherous waters under a drink-crazed captain.

His soul seared and his heart calloused, his obsession to get back to the killer of his parents dominates his life. And so the boy Jackson O'Reilly becomes the pirate "Black Jack," the relentless scourge of any who stand in his path to retribution, until a daring recue of two of his mates teaches him that there are other emotions then anger, other feelings then hatred and mistrust.

Editorial Reviews

Entertainment Weekly

This is scathing, fascinating stuff, and with Minear's commentary, it provides a provocative history of wartime politics.

Associated Press

It's what booksellers like to call a page-turner, a corker, a cracking good yawn.

Nevada Barr

Lenihan's extensive knowledge and deep love of the sea coupled with Hackman's uncanny ability to breathe life into characters make Wake of the Perdido Star a knockout of a first novel.

— author of Blind Descent

Tom Grace

In Wake of the Perdido Star, Jack O'Reilly leads a memorable crew of characters on an astonishing globe0-ccrucling adventure. Hackman and Lenihan have crafted an epic tale of honor and betrayal, of revenge and hope, and ultimately justice and redemption.

— author of Spyder Web

Clive Cussler

A swashbuckling sea story written like a classic sea story should be written, with all the legendary action. A fascinating read you can't help but enjoy.

Arthur J. Bachrach

A stirring yarn, filled with heroes and villains who are larger than life, with a knowledge of seamanship and the diving technology and physiology of the day that equals the great sea writers who have set the standard.
—Historical diving expert; contributor to The British Museum Encyclopaedia of Underwater and Maritime Archaeology

James Delgado

A rousing good tale...the action explodes off the pages...It's rare to find good action backed by solid research and knowledge of the sea.
—President, Council of American Maritime Museums

Kirkus Reviews

Actor Hackman collaborates with Lenihan, a scuba-diving and sunken-ship aficionado, on an American swashbuckler aspiring to be the next Aubrey-Maturin. It takes about a hundred pages for 17-year-old Jack O'Reilly to witness his trusting Irish father and worldly-wise Cuban mother cheated out of their land and then murdered by a dastardly Spaniard, Count de Silva. Left for dead by the Count's minions, Jack himself staggers back to the Perdido Star, the US merchant ship that brought his family to Cuba, and is welcomed aboard by the ship's first mate, a kindly seasoned salt named Quince. From there, the voyage becomes a series of action pieces interwoven with narratives of seafaring lore as Jack goes halfway around the world, enduring darkly violent storms and vivid battles on land and sea as he grows to manhood, earns the respect of the crew, and returns to Havana as the notorious Pacific pirate "Black Jack" O'Reilly set upon avenging his parents. Set in 1805, when America was doing a bad job of staying neutral during the Napoleonic Wars, what saves this seafarer from being yet another serving of half-baked Sabatini is the peculiar expertise the authors add about Kentucky rifles and makeshift diving when Jack, naive genius that he is, invents a diving bell to rescue his father's gun-making equipment while the crew is marooned on an atoll somewhere west of Tahiti. For full effect, add a few postmodern Hollywood casting decisions that include an Queeg-like captain, a pompous Dutch slaver, a Chinese martial arts expert masquerading as a cook, a sentimental balladeer, and an annoying French American schoolboy, Paul Le Maire, who peckishly corrects villains when they misquote Shakespeare andVoltaire. Standard swashbuckler that's slow at the start but then delivers satisfying action and rousing derring-do, even if the characterizations are as thin as Errol Flynn's tights. (Literary Guild featured alternate; $100,000 ad/promo)

From the Publisher

An adventure story that earns its place in the esteemed company of such seafaring sagas as Moby Dick and Mutiny on the Bounty.” — San Diego Union-Tribune

A swashbuckling sea story written like a sea story should be written, with all the legendary action. A fascinating read.” — Clive Cussler

“A swashbuckling sea yarn.” — San Francisco Chronicle

“A swashbuckling sea story of nautical derring-do. ... Salted with plenty of action.” — Stephen Coonts, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings

“A robust sea-faring yarn. ... A fun-filled adventure...complete with a slam-bang finale.” — Winston-Salem Journal

“Thrilling. ... A swashbuckling tale, full of action.” — Chattanooga Times

“A page-turner, a corker, a cracking good yarn.” — Lisa Ko, author of The Leavers

“The strong plot carries such momentum that it is sure to satisfy readers looking for a good yarn. — Booklist

“An American swashbuckler with satisfying action and rousing derring-do.” — Kirkus Reviews

“A fun, rousing tale. ... Chock full of pirates, sea battles, shipwrecks, and adventure.” — Providence Journal

“Fast-paced and exciting.” — Cleveland Plain Dealer

Cleveland Plain Dealer

Fast-paced and exciting.

Providence Journal

A fun, rousing tale. ... Chock full of pirates, sea battles, shipwrecks, and adventure.

Booklist

The strong plot carries such momentum that it is sure to satisfy readers looking for a good yarn.

Associated Press Staff

A page-turner, a corker, a cracking good yarn.

Chattanooga Times

Thrilling. ... A swashbuckling tale, full of action.

Winston-Salem Journal

A robust sea-faring yarn. ... A fun-filled adventure...complete with a slam-bang finale.

Stephen Coonts

A swashbuckling sea story of nautical derring-do. ... Salted with plenty of action.

San Francisco Chronicle

A swashbuckling sea yarn.

San Diego Union-Tribune

An adventure story that earns its place in the esteemed company of such seafaring sagas as Moby Dick and Mutiny on the Bounty.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940172320583
Publisher:	Brilliance Audio
Publication date:	07/18/2008
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

From Chapter 9

[At this point in the book, Jack and his fellow shipmates of the Perdido Star find themselves between the islands of O'taheiti and Belaur.]

Jack tested his strength by holding fast with his left hand and feeding out the line with his right. It was going to work, if he could just keep Paul away from the mast. He waited till the ship shuddered and righted itself in a trough and then quickly played out the line, hoping to drop Paul to the waiting hands below. He inched his way up closer to the spar and let the line out. Still fifteen feet short, Paul's body swung dangerously close to the mast. Jack grasped the spar with the rope around it and let go more slack. Paul dropped again, but was still several feet from the sailor's grasp on deck. The ship heeled suddenly and the limp body swung aft.

"Catch him!" Jack screamed. Quince, on the bridge deck above the sailors, grabbed Paul with one arm and lowered him to the deck. Relief washed over Jack as he could see Paul was safely down. As the pain from the ripped skin on his hands began heating its way into his consciousness, he took a moment to rekindle his strength.

"Take a wrap under your arms and get down here!" bellowed Quince. But Jack had already begun his rappel down. Again his line was too short, but Jack dropped into the arms of a half dozen waiting sailors. A few men whispered "well done" before hurrying off to deal with the carnage about them.

Jack looked to the bridge deck where Quince and Hansumbob had propped Paul up against the compass binnacle. Paul met Jack with a blank-eyed look.

An eerie quiet settled over the ship. Jack noticed the water had become calm; several sailors stopped their work and gazed seaward. Black clouds billowed about them, but just scant miles away the sea still boiled. Jack could see the stars straight above him, as if he were peering up from the bottom of a deep bowl. They were caught in what appeared to be a lake, surrounded by towering mountains of water. Jack fell to his knees, more tired than he had ever been in his life.

There was a stirring on the bridge deck. Jack saw a figure all in white -- it appeared to be a ghost climbing up the aft companionway. After a moment, Jack realized he was looking at the captain, naked, his pale skin silhouetted against the dark skies behind him. His long hair was disheveled and he had a large, blood-caked welt on his left temple, like a piece of old jewelry. Dried vomit adorned his chest and in his left hand he held a jug of grog. His right hand held a saber, still sheathed. He seemed unaware of the bodies and debris about him.

"Mr. Quince, why are we running with short sails? Damn it, man, we're almost becalmed. Lay on the canvas, mister."

Several of the crew dropped their heads. Jack realized for the first time how much his fellow sailors had come to believe in the hierarchy of the ship at sea. The raging of the storm and the death of their mates had shaken them, but the recognition that they were truly without a captain was crushing.

"Smithers, see that the captain is safely back in his cabin. Lash him securely in his bunk," Quince said. He stepped toward the old man and took the saber from his hand. The captain sputtered a protest.

A rogue wave from the stern lifted the entire ship and spun her. The water carried Jack halfway across the quarterdeck. Coughing seawater over the aft rail, his hands gripped the rough carving he had seen the captain working on while docked in Massachusetts and Cuba. Salem seemed to him a lifetime ago -- when he was just a boy. He ran his fingers over the intricate letters: "Captain Hans Peter Deploy. 1730 - 1806." The captain knew this was his last trip.

No one manned the wheel. It spun lazily, as if detached. Then Jack realized that, in fact, it was. The pintles were sprung from the gudgeons and the rudder had come unshipped. My God, thought Jack. We're sitting in this pond like a toy boat.

Quince bellied up to the starboard rail and stared into the blackness. In a voice full of dread, knowing he was the only one capable of command, he addressed the crew. "Quickly do what you can for the ship, lads. Then lash yourself to the pulpit around the main and foremast and pray...for we are surely in the eye of the typhoon."

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