“Shortly after midnight she came to the end of the road and, with Venus Point Light bearing due south, three miles distant, we hove her to till dawn. And the ship slept under a blanket of stars and so did most of her crew. But not the one in command. He paced alone, alone and lost in memories of the time…” Wanderer, page 247.
Hayden wrote The Wanderer (1963) and then Voyage (1976). Both books read like Conrad and Melville with Hayden living the life of an adventurer before and after Hollywood. He is both Melville and a character from Melville. Hayden ran away from home at fifteen to sail the Great Banks of Newfoundland: sailed around the world the first time at twenty-one, captained a square-rigger from Gloucester to Tahiti at twenty-two, and he was the navigator for the schooner Gertrude L. Thebaud in the Fisherman’s Cup the following year. News coverage of the race had led to Hollywood calling the sailor west, but he refused initially. He would sail around the world a second time before he reported to Paramount Studios in 1941. He married and seemed to settle down to a staid but secure income and life. Paramount awarded him a seven-year contract starting at $250 a week, which was very good money then. He would break his contract in less than a year. He felt the wind and left the shore. Wanderer.
Hayden was not a man easy to miss in the crowd: at six-five, with rugged good looks that earned him the moniker “The Beautiful Blond Viking God,” he managed to enlist in the U.S. Marine Corps, see action, earn both the Silver Star and Bronze Star and other combat decorations, get on a first-name basis with “Wild Bill” Donovan of the OSS, precursor to the CIA, and run numerous covert gun-running and rescue operations into Yugoslavia before it had become known that he was some two-bit actor from Hollywood. In other words, Hayden had enlisted using a false name. He had dined with FDR as John Hamilton. That’s acting. Hayden’s missions for the nascent CIA were not declassified until 2008.
Hayden was an interesting man. As an author he, like another actor who loved the sea, Humphrey Bogart, knew his Conrad, London, Melville, and Stevenson inside and out. Wanderer, in typical Haydenesque style, began as an open act of defiance. Defying a court order, he took his four children and sailed for the South Seas. He set sail with no radio. Wanderer is not a celebrity rendition of life on the lam with all the posh accoutrements; it is literary fiction drawn from living the hard life at sea with children; and Hayden demonstrates the breadth of his maritime knowledge and the depth of his reading, for the book opens with a pivotal incipit from Walter de la Mare. Substitute Wanderer for ‘Traveler’ and you see Sterling Hayden, the author and man, who loved his children and the sea. He was both Ishmael and Ahab.