Sailing by Starlight is the story of the adventure of a lifetime—in fact, of many lifetimes. In the early 1980s, retired geography professor Marvin Creamer set out to do what hadn’t been done for a thousand years—if indeed it had ever been done at Marv and his crew boarded a 35’ sailboat named Globe Star and set out into the frigid Atlantic, planning to sail around the world without the use of any instruments. There was no sextant aboard. No compass. No chart-plotter. No GPS. No radar. Not even a stopwatch. Creamer wanted to prove to the world that it was possible for ancient mariners to have crossed the largest seas, perhaps even sailed around the world, using only their brains, their experience, their sense, and their courage. In attempting to prove his point, Creamer would push his boat and his crew to the limit—and occasionally beyond. Travel with Creamer as Globe Star sails around the perilous Horn, across the dangerous and tumultuous Tasman Sea, and into an active war zone. Sail around the world with a man who was taken prisoner by an idea, a man obsessed with proving a point, and who would let neither 40-foot waves nor fractious crewmembers deter him.
Disclaimer: I was hesitant to post a review, as this book was written by my husband, but I want to share what I enjoyed about the story. I hope to minimize my personal bias.
I am not what you would call an avid sailor. My family owned a small sailboat (a Glen-L 13) when I was in elementary school, and I remember lake sailing with my parents and brothers (and our small dog) in Northern California and Southern Oregon. How we all managed to fit in that tiny sailboat is beyond me!
Later, I would enjoy going out on Hobie Cats and a few 20-plus foot sailboats in San Diego, but I can count those occasions on one hand. In the late 80s, my husband and I started dreaming about buying a Catalina, but a move to Nebraska took the wind out of our sails, so to speak. Looking back, I wonder just how much I would have enjoyed spending time on a boat on the Pacific Ocean. It's huge, unpredictable and the waves are much bigger than those on the lakes of Whiskey Town and Howard Prairie. And I am prone to seasickness!
Rod has always been enthusiastic about sailing, reading numerous books on the subject (he's read Chapman: The Boater's Handbook more than once), and dreaming of one day owning a boat. Nautical books (even sailing memoirs) weren't of interest to me, but Rod had a copy of Adrift: Seventy-Six Days Lost at Sea by Steve Callahan, and with all our talks about sailing, I decided to give it a read sometime in the late 80s. I don't remember much about the book, but after recently glancing at a copy, I discovered that Callahan's voyage began just shy of two years before Marv Creamer's. I wonder if they knew one another. If not personally, they certainly must have known of each other.
Rod and I never did buy a boat, but we've cruised the San Juan Islands (on a 48' Richardson cabin cruiser) with my dad and stepmom, as well as a wonderful day trip on a catamaran from St. Thomas to St. John. I've also had the pleasure of spending two weeks on a river boat, cruising the Rhine, Main, and Danube rivers with my mom. But all these experiences were peaceful and calm. Well, almost all. We did experience a problem with the bilge pump on my dad's boat; for several moments I was afraid the boat might start to sink, and we would have to swim to shore in the dark! Oh, and there was also the time (actually, there were two separate instances) when a fan belt broke on one of the two engines (again in my dad's boat) and we had to limp along, in Puget Sound, on one engine to reach a marina for repairs. But none of these events were as terrifying as those that Marv Creamer and his crew faced as they sailed around the world without any instrumentation: no GPS, no compass, no sextant, not even a clock or watch. And, their amazing adventure took place on the Globe Star, a 35-foot sailboat. They experienced gales, huge seas, fog in heavily traveled shipping lanes, and the doldrums. They went for many weeks without seeing land, nor speaking to anyone but one another.
While chatting with Rod about Sailing by Starlight (from the safe perch of one of our neighborhood benches overlooking the ocean, watching the enormous waves crash against the bluff), I told him that I would have curled up in a ball in the v-berth, sobbing in terror, if I had to be on such a voyage at Creamer's. I'm sure even an experienced sailor would feel some fear and anxiety with each crashing wave, a galley fire, or a knockdown, but they would also know what to do in those situations. At least if a disaster strikes while we're traveling in our motorhome, there's very little risk of drowning!
Sailing by Starlight is a compelling read about a sixty-six-year-old retired geography professor who was able to fulfill a lifetime dream and prove that ancient peoples could sail across massive oceans (perhaps even around the world) without anything but their intellect, bravery and senses. I was pleased to discover that over the years, I've picked up a general understanding of some basic nautical terminology in my brief encounters on boats: port & starboard, cleats & fenders, fore & aft, fo'c'sle & salon, and coming-about and jibe (the latter of which I accidentally discovered off the shores of Beaufort, N.C.). So, as I began reading Rod's book, I wasn't bothered by the usage of specific vernacular known to more seasoned sailors. Initially, I thought a glossary might be useful, but flipping back and forth would only interrupt the narrative, causing a loss in momentum and tension. Any words or phrases with which I was not familiar (e.g., horse latitudes, heave-to, windlass), were easily understood in the context of the passage.
Rich in detail, with mounting tension, Sailing by Starlight is sure to appeal to a broad range of readers, avid sailors and armchair travelers not excluded. Rod sets the scenes so vividly, delivering an ultra-satisfying read for which he should be enormously proud. I know I am.
It's rare that I reread books, and even more rare that I'm tempted to re-read a book upon completion, but I felt that way about Sailing by Starlight. I'm not interested in owning a boat, but I do enjoy a thrilling nautical tale. Maybe it's time to finally give Moby Dick another chance...
Note to reader: I rarely read an author's footnotes, whether included on the appropriate page or in a collection at the back of the book. I encourage you to read Sailing by Starlight "Notes," which provide additional information that would otherwise have detracted from the flow of the narrative.
Rod Scher skillfully captures the drama and thrills of Marvin Creamer’s quest to circumnavigate the globe without instruments aboard the Globe Star between December 1982 and May 1984. Scher incorporates Creamer’s journals, notes, and his unpublished manuscript of his historic voyage alongside fresh interviews with members of Creamer’s crew and his family to create a compelling narrative. Creamer died in August 2020 at the age of 104. Sailing by Starlight: The Remarkable Story of Globe Star ensures that the incredible journey of Creamer and his crew won’t be forgotten.
This is a fascinating book about an extraordinary man who had a dream and realized it against the odds of weather, politics and the most difficult of all- interpersonal relationships. Rod Scher tells the story in an accessible way - I don’t know much about sailing and less about astronomy. It’s a successful mix of narrative, information and character analysis. Very readable and informative.
I don't read a lot of non-fiction, but this book has all the elements of a good novel. Marvin Creamer is a fascinating man with an obsession to sail around the world - without any instruments - and does it! There is lots of tension and plenty of history and nautical events. Highly recommend Sailing by Starlight!!
I am a professor at Rowan University, and I have known about Marvin Creamer since I was first hired in 1999. While I had read bits and pieces of his amazing journey before, I did not know the full story until I read this remarkable book. The author does a fantastic job of explaining Professor Creamer's stunning accomplishment. His narrative is engaging and will appeal to a broad range of readers (but without glossing over technical elements that were vital). For me, the part about the journey that is most amazing is that he did so largely to prove that ancient peoples could have travelled all over the world even without our modern instruments. At the time he left Cape May, there was great skepticism about the seafaring skills of the ancients. Over the last four decades, work by archaeologists, linguists, and other academics have proven Creamer right about the seamanship skills of the ancients, but Creamer demonstrated what was possible earlier. In this particular way, he doesn't get enough credit. His journey had an important academic dimension which I think gets lost in the sheer adventure, danger, and audacity of his trip.