England Richard. Schoonerman

Penguin Books, 1983. — 305 p.I have never met Richard England, though had events moved more happily for us both — as will be related in this book — we might now be old friends. As it is, I can only recommend Schoonerman in the way it should most properly be recommended, without prejudice or personal involvement; and this I most heartily do.
In an age when the amateur sailor, the week-end sailor, the holiday sailor ever proliferates, so that bright new marinas flourish in every little port, and men and women take to the sea for pleasure or to escape from the problems of the land, and vie with each other to pit their varying skills against wind and wave, it is fascinating to read an account written by one of the last true professionals in the harsh world of the coastal schooner trade. For him the sea has indeed been The Cruel Sea. Yet all his vicissitudes in small and vulnerable sailing vessels, his struggles with obstinate, difficult and fractious human beings, his efforts to break through the stifling red tape of the official world, the hardships that constantly beset him, are related with an absence of bitterness and rancour that compel admiration.
There is indeed in this book, although it is a recital of unrelenting struggle, a sense of dedication and happiness, as if Captain England and his wife and daughters achieved a contentment and unity in spite of it all and that, looking back on those days, he finds a real pleasure in the telling and only once the pain.
From any point of view this book must surely be looked on as a valuable record of a time now gone for ever, a vivid yet factual record that carries conviction. It was really like this, one thinks, and it will never come again. As the author remarks at a tragic point in his narrative: Sic Transit Gloria Mundi.