This was a charming two-day read, and a great example of what excellent history masquerading as children's fiction should look like: appealing characters, a gripping plot that is both engaging and easy to relate to, a wealth of information, and an underlying thread of mystery that is never fully resolved.
I appreciated Gilkerson's use of technical vocabulary - not once does he talk down to his audience or assume they are unable to handle new and unfamiliar words. He uses them naturally and in context, thus allowing readers to either absorb and wonder at fabulous terms like "mizzen," "bumpkin," "quay punt," and a dizzying litany of trivial cannon bits, or send them running to a dictionary and/or encyclopedia with labeled charts - both great options, in my mind.
He also manages to sneak in fascinating morsels of etymology, as with the rumored-excellent smoked pork produced by Tortuga's pig hunters, a delicacy which they called boucan, and the island hunters themselves, the original boucaniers, giving us, in English, both "bacon" and "buccaneer." The English word "jerky" is apparently also an adoption of the Spanish-American charqui, referring to the dried smoked meat that kept indefinitely without refrigeration and so was invaluable as a protein staple for ship-bound sailors. He also clarifies the origin of the phrase Jolly Roger, referring, of course, to the traditional skull and crossbones flag of pirate lore. Originally, pirate flags were often red to symbolize bloodshed and mercilessness, and thus were dubbed the jolie rouge. This slipped easily into a twisted English form, doubling its effect by echoing a folk reference to Old Roger, an alternate name for the Devil.
Lastly, the view of history taken in this text is in stark contrast to the traditional tales of the Dutch East India company and the pat glories of the Age of Exploration. It takes, instead, a critical look at the political power games involved in the onset of the colonial period, and draws into questioning light the rule of state over the realities of human organization. It uses the word "pirate" only carefully and often with irony, and shows great sympathy for anarchist principles, suggesting that the seafaring brotherhoods were, in fact, the first real democracies, as all decisions were based on collective discussions and equal votes, regardless of social standing. A great tidbit of history, and one that points the way for further reading in the author's note at the end.