Subscribers to The New Yorker will remember this epic from its serialized appearance there. Written in the aftermath of the Arab oil embargo, SUPERSHIP vividly recounts life at sea on a modern supertanker. A beautiful story of today's nomads of the sea and the schizophrenic lives they lead.
I read this book on publication almost 40 years ago, and still remember its eyeopening narrative of Supertankers, which have become redesigned in the interim. Much of the warnings Mostert outlined have come to pass, but the book remains in my memory as being fascinating and frightening.
Beautifully written. This recount of life aboard a supertanker will take into a world you never imagined. I read it 41 years ago in 1977 and will never forget it.
Just seeing my last name on a book caused me to buy this epic story of the giant oil tankers by South African journalist Noel Mostert. It is a classic. I am glad I bought and read it and recommended it to my family members, several of whom have copies and have enjoyed reading it.
Originally serialized in the New Yorker in the wake of the early 1970's energy crisis, this book is an in-depth history and analysis of the biggest moving objects ever built: oil supertankers.
A quarter mile long, half a football field wide, and with several cavernous tanks each the size of a cathedral, these behemoths carry enough crude oil to meet the energy needs of a small city for a year. Their small crews and giant payloads maximize shipping company profits, but their sheer size is no guarantee against the elements and mismanagement, two factors which, when coupled with fundamental structural instability, have caused scores of sinkings and spills since the first supertankers were built in response to the temporary closing of the Suez Canal in 1956.
Written over a decade before the Exxon Valdez catastrophe, the author already had plenty of disasters to cite as examples of these ships' inherent unreliability and inevitable environmental impacts. But worse than the headline-grabbing collisions, explosions, and slicks is the day-to-day trickle of deadly pollution these monster ships leave in their wakes—over a million tons annually casually released into oceans during routine cleaning, bilge pumping, and emergency dumping in stormy seas. Leaking, cracking, colliding, exploding, sinking, these VLCCs (Very Large Crude Carriers) are apt symbols for the wasteful societies whose heedless practices first made supertankers a "necessity."
Mostert takes as his frame of reference a voyage he took aboard the 220,000 ton Ardshiel in 1973 and his appraisal of his ship and the supertanker fleet is objective and even-handed, delivered in a gripping style that avoids sensationalism. The maritime history is fascinating, the statistics startling, and the litany of mishap appalling. But more than an eyewitness account of these outsized ships and the overworked and underqualified crews that run them, Supership is a stunning expose of the oil business and the naked greed which drives it without moral compass.
Surprisingly comprehensive book about every aspect of the supertanker industry in its early days. Not at all like other marine literature topics, this book generally informs the reader on the economics, weaknesses, management, and shipboard life of super ships, as told through the lens of the author traveling on one. Surprisingly, the work is not a slavish endorsement of the ships, but a heavily written criticism of much of their existence.
Somewhat out of date, as it was published long before the tanker wars and everything that’s occurred since then.
Brilliant portrayal of the lives of seafarer onboard these VLCCs and ULCCs. It was fun in those days to be at sea. You worked hard and enjoyed as well. Life onboard was one of bonhomie and enjoyment