The Voyage of the Narwhal by Andrea Barrett

The Voyage of the Narwhal was written in 1988 and is a wonderful book. The story and characters are vivid, with the fictions threaded into historical events of the mid 1800s, especially the worlds of natural science and exploratory expeditions.

The Narwhal is a ship commanded by Zechariah Voorhees, a young, ambitious, charismatic young man. The ship sails north in 1855 to look for evidence of Franklin. They go along west coast of Greenland into Baffin Bay, into the waters around Baffin Island, and then north into Smith Bay where they become ice-bound for a winter. There is a crew of 15 and the novel is also the story of several of these men as they sail into the cold north: Dr. Boerhaave, the ship's surgeon; Ned Kynd, a young Irish immigrant who becomes a last minute replacement for a delinquent cook; and Erasmus Wells, a naturalist and friend of Zeke.

Lavinia, the sister of Erasmus and the betrothed of Zeke remains at home of course, living for the day when The Narwhal will return and she and Zeke can marry. Her companion and friend is Alexandra, who learns engraving as she works on illustrations for the scientific books that the men of discovery write when they return home. She does this with no recognition, as she is only a woman, yet she yearns to somehow escape the restricted life she sees as her future.

Troubles befall The Narwhal. Zeke becomes desperate as winter approaches. So far, there has been very little sign of Franklin and Zeke makes decisions based on his hopes of personal aggrandizement at the expense of his ship and crew. They spend a winter barely surviving, stuck in the ice and dark and bitter cold. They have a couple of fortuitous encounters with the Esquimaux who help them but who really wish to be left alone. Zeke does not understand this. He becomes more reckless and prepares one last overland trip as another August approaches and temperatures begin to fall again.

This is a grand adventure story, filled with observations of the natural world. There are beautifully written, elegant passages like this:

"A most remarkable event yesterday. The Esquimaux call it saugssat or so it sounds to my ear. A high tide two days ago, combined with a strong wind, opened a large lead in the cove. Into it poured hundreds of narwhals in search of breathing space and food. When the end of the lead froze over again the animals were trapped. It was horrible to see them thrashing around in the ever smaller hole, pushing each other underwater as they struggled for air, pulled tighter and tighter until their tusks projected above the surface like a forest of clashing spears."

Of the novels I've read this past year, two of them were notably superior to the others: The first was The Elegance of the Hedgehog. The second was this book, The Voyage of the Narwhal, both books illustrating again how fiction has the power to seduce, soothe, instruct and inspire, even in our techno-frenzied world.