Already a fan of The Sea Rover’s Practice (being the only book on pirate tactics written by a former Navy SEAL), you can imagine I was looking mighty forward to Benerson Little’s next book, The Buccaneer’s Realm: Pirate Life on the Spanish Main, 1674-1688.

Many books on piracy – in my experience – are entry level. They are written on the assumption that the reader has little or no prior knowledge of the subject matter, and therefore start at the beginning. I suppose this makes sense as it casts the widest net for gaining readers, but the downside is that many books on piracy cover the same basic turf again and again. While I don’t know Little’s intentions, it does seem to me that he has departed from this 101 template in favor of a more exploratory book of Buccaneering 201.

The Buccaneer’s Realm may be a bit difficult for the fresh reader looking for a narrative-style account of the age of these early rovers from beginning to end. This book is instead broken down by subject – one chapter on island hunter culture, another on common buccaneer food, and yet another on health and medicine. It makes for a unique read, but it can be a challenge to follow who’s who if your’e not already familiar with the famous persons and events of the day. BUT – and here’s the beauty part – if you’re already versed in the basics, The Buccaneer’s Realm is the perfect next step to further delve into these various facets of buccaneering life.

Little’s writing style is candid and straightforward. It’s not overly challenging to follow, but neither is this a book to breeze through when nodding off – attention and thought are both required. Due to the subject-driven structure of the book, this is also one of those rare tomes you can enjoy piecemeal – a chapter here, another there. While there is some reference to subjects addressed previously, most of the chapters manage to stand on their own.

The Buccaneer’s Realm holds up well against Little’s previous work, making two-for-two books that are truly must-haves for any true pirate scholar.

Pirate Ghosts & Phantom Ships, by Thomas D’Agostino, is a collection of dozens of tales regarding seagoing spectres and maritime tragedy. And, at least by some accounts, every word of it’s true.

Pirate Ghosts is an easy, interesting read, with each chapter being its own short story regarding some aspect of the restless dead, with firm roots in folklore and coastal legend. Not all the tales directly involve pirates, although many do (I skipped around to read those chapters first), and readers will be delighted to see more than a few familiar names, including Blackbeard, Sam Bellamy, Captain Kidd, and Black Bart.

This book is written from a strong “I want to believe” perspective, seeking to entertain and share the legends moreso than debunk. Direct meetings with full on aparitions would seem a frequent occurance according to this book, and skeptics may find themselves full of unanswered questions regarding the exact nature of the eyewitness accounts that led to the historical documentations of these strange occurances. But those looking to enjoy a good spooky tale full of shipwrecks, vengeful sailors, and earthbound pirate spirits should find this a highly enjoyable read.

What really gets me about true historical pirates is the clichés. Unlike the clichés set forth by the Wicked Witch of the West – who really didn’t look or act much like real witches at all – pirate clichés do have many roots in truth. Some of the most famous pirates such as Blackbeard, Morgan, and Bellamy demostrated many of the qualities one expects from pirates – including the swilling of rum, the terrorizing of locals, and the wearing of tricornered hats. But it’s these same common features that make each pirate’s unique departures from the cliché stand out all the more.

Black Bart Roberts was an amazing contrast between the cliché and the unique. Having served as a merchant sailor, he in many ways shared roots with many a pirate – stuck in a dead-end, dangerous and underpaid profession, engaging in the regretable business of human trafficking, and eventually falling victim to a pirate raid. Coerced to join the crew, it wasn’t long before he decided that if pirate was what fate had chosen for him, he would embrace it – and soon he discovered that he had quite the affinity for this illicit profession.

Black Bart rose quickly through the pirate ranks – all the while drinking tea and refraining from all the other forms of carousing one expects from a successful (or any) pirate. Sharing little in common with all other successful pirates, he nonetheless became one of the most successful of his day. And though a reluctant pirate at first, he was also an unapologetic one with no Letter of Marque to hide behind, nor even mixed loyalties preventing him from raiding his own countrymen. Roberts was a pirate – albeit a relatively nice, sober pirate.

“If A Pirate I Must Be…” is an enjoyable, detailed read. It manages to draw the facts into a compelling narrative, and avoids the pitfalls of getting too academic or bogged down by nitty-gritty. Roberts himself comes across as one of the most decent pirates imaginable, nicely encompasing the noble aspects of this romanticized trade, making this an excellent book for those wanting to read up on some history, but wishing to steer clear of all the “mythbusting” books intent on telling us how awful pirates really were. There’s two sides to that argument. Both are true, but the Roberts side of the coin is certainly the more fun.

Pirateology certainly isn’t the only explore/activity book on pirates, and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure if it’s even the first. But it’s most certainly one of most involved. Far from a simple history of pirates, each page takes on the feeling of a pirate-hunter’s scrapbook, complete with journal entries, pictures and keepsakes, and hidden secrets. Readers can find bags of gold dust, scraps of pirate flags, and – if they’re very, very thorough – even the secret location of Arabella Drummond’s treasure.

Pirateology is eye-catching from the start. The hardbound cover features a gold jolly roger against a black background, and a real, working compass. Upon opening, it’s nearly jarring how much material is presented on a single page. It’s easy to let the eyes and fingers roam aimlessly, but this is a book that should be explored from the beginning, and taken step-by-step – otherwise, much might be missed.

Books such as this, I think, best serve a very specific interest. Learning about pirates in the exploratory scrapbook manner is hardly the most efficient way to digest information, but it is certainly one of the most entertaining. And afterwards, the novice pirate enthusiast will likely retain a great deal about pirates and their lives – what they ate, how they lived, how they fought, what they wore, what they sailed, etc. etc. In fact, if a child has only one book on pirates, they could do a lot worse for themselves than starting with Pirateology, as it would do much to open up the diverse world of pirates in all it’s varied aspects (although a thorough discussion of rum is notably absent.)

That Pirateology opens a whole world of piracy to children is no accident, and one that the folks who created this book are quite ready to expand upon. Pirateology also has an associated calendar, a board game, a model ship, and figurines of famous pirates and their ship – all available seperately. I’ve not yet explored these items in detail, but to the casual glance they all seem wonderfully piratey and entertaining.

A book such as this could do much to save your young niece or nephew from a life of tedium and normalcy by introducing them to pirates right proper and early. Highly recommended.

Come for the pirates, stay for the earthquake…

Captain Morgan – we’ve heard the name, drank the rum, but how much do we actually know about the guy? Actually, unlike with many pirates, quite a lot is known about Henry Morgan. His exploits are exceedingly well documented. And in Empire of Blue Water, author Stephan Talty does a splendid job of relaying Morgan’s adventures in a manner that’s both detailed and entertaining.

In truth, the story of Captain Morgan is larger than the man himself. His is the story of the buccaneers – desperate men driven as much by hatred of spanish oppression as they were lust for gold. But while they share the same story, Morgan was an exceptional figure, and telling a tale from his perspective alone would leave many gaps. Talty resolves this dilemma by including a parallel story throughout – that of Roderick, being the epitomized “everyman” buccaneer serving under Morgan’s command. In this way, Roderick serves to better represent the fuller story of the buccaneers, while his typical life contrasts with and highlights Morgan’s much more atypical fate.

Morgan’s story is also the story of Jamaica – a relatively inconsequential island until ushered to greatness by Morgan and his buccaneers, and then tumbling backwards shortly after Morgan’s demise. Jamaica served for a time as a keystone figure in world politics and economy – ironic considering that it was also its day’s Sodom and Gomorrah. Both the trade and sin capitol of the new world, the story of Jamaica itself is every bit as fascinating as Morgan’s own, and the two are entirely intertwined.

Empire of Blue Water follows Morgan and his men from their humble beginnings through their rise as national heroes and to their eventual decline to simple outlaws. The battles, strategies, and circumstances are all described in very human terms – this reads like a story, not a textbook. And yet, the information contained therein is astounding. The politics and culture of the day were the products of centuries of history, and manipulated by forces large and small, ranging from Kings and Queens to thieves and whores. Talty paints the picture in its entirety, illuminating the full story in all its astounding, sordid detail.

I generally don’t give away a book’s ending, but I think it’s safe to assume most readers already know that Henry Morgan is long dead, and that following his death, Port Royal was struck by an earthquake. For all that was amazing about Morgan, he was still merely human, and paled in comparison to the raw power unleashed by nature on his home port. The description of what the townspeople experienced in a very few minutes of earthquake is nothing short of awe inspiring – terrible, humorous, and baffling. The “wrath of God” is an oft used phrase, but seldom is it so vividly portrayed.

An astounding read, and a must for anyone wishing to get a true grasp of this pirate of truly legendary proportions.

I’ve often stated my aversion to “general history of pirates” type books. They quite often cover the same turf as each other, and so many names and events tend to blur together in my wee brain. I’ve also lamented the inherit dryness often found in some historical texts – too many details and too little drama don’t bode well for a book unless I’m hoping to use to help me fall asleep. Fortunately The Republic of Pirates has me covered on all accounts – it’s well written and entertaining while remaining informative. And it doesn’t endeavor to be an all-encompassing “who’s who” of pirates. However, author Colin Woodard does take a unique approach by focusing on, not one pirate, nor all pirates, but instead a small batch of pirates – several household-name pirates who were in fact contemporaries, cohorts, and even friends.

Blackbeard, Black Sam Bellamy, Charles Vane, Stede Bonnet, Henry Jennings, Benjamin Hornigold, and indeed several others were partners-in-crime to a greater or lesser extent many times during their brief moments at the forefront of Caribbean piracy. And it’s through this prism that Woodard shares their tales. Offering facts where he can, and speculating where he must, he traces the lives and careers of each of these men, from boyhood to gallows (or other manner of “retirement”, as the case may be.) In doing so, he not only conveys the stories of these extraordinary men, but also the tales of all sailors of the day, and indeed, much of the Caribbean and American colonies. Pirates, of course, weren’t an isolated incident that occurred within the Caribbean, but were deeply engrained and intertwined throughout the colonies – in many ways the history of the new world is the history of pirates, and Woodard shares it all.

There is one other figure who’s career is traced through these pages – that of Woodes Rogers. Not a pirate, but rather the man who sought to defeat their unlawful empire, Rogers is every bit as fascinating as any scallywagg you could name. Seeing how his own life both parallels and contrasts those of his adversaries is an incredible study in itself.

The Republic of Pirates is in itself a contrast – a book full of characters we all know, but few people could tell you WHY we know them, let alone how they may have known each other, shed blood together, stolen ships from each other, and so on. Learning the stories of these men (and women) from such a perspective adds a remarkable humanizing element that is often missing. Blackbeard comes off particularly well in Woodard’s interpretations, being a scoundrel more interested in bloodless conquest through fear and theatrics, rather than brutality and pain. Being less than a historical scholar, I can’t speak to the accuracy of this, but I do enjoy the opportunity to look on Blackbeard as a decent, if not exactly law-abiding, fellow.

The Republic of Pirates is an excellent read. It offers a highly enjoyable take on many of the pirates we all know, while offering an incredible “whole picture” view of the state of piracy during this very brief segment of the golden age of piracy. Highly recommended.

The bookstores are swarming with “general history of piracy” books. There are quite literally dozens of them. Styles range from large-scale textbooks with lots of graphs and pictures to text-based novels to numerous children’s books. Yes, the shelves are swarming with pirate history books. So why should Pat Croce’s new book, Pirate Soul, be anything special? Simply put, it isn’t a book – it’s a pirate activity center tucked between two covers.

Pirate Soul: A Swashbuckling Journey Through the Golden Age of Pirates primarily covers the territory one would expect – pirate life and haunts, weapons and ships, as well as biographies of many of the biggest names in the business. And in this respect, little need be said – the writing is clear, entertaining, and informative. Of course, you may never actually get around to reading any of it…

Most every page of Pirate Soul contains one or more goodies – folded up maps of Charles Town and Madagascar, ship’s articles, and royal proclimations. Without leaving your home, you can feel the pirate gunpowder and play with the coils of a cat’o'nine tales. Some of these goodies seem a little odd (why we need an outdated list of taverns in Port Royal is beyond me) but most should prove exciting little discoveries for parents and kids alike. This book is so packed, in fact, that most every page could become a bedtime activity to do with the wee ones – read through the material, and then explore the treasures. What shall be discovered tonight? Perhaps a Letter of Marque, or maybe Captain Kidd’s long lost French passes?

This book is well tought out, and well crafted. The artwork is beautiful and fun, and the various goodies should keep everyone busy for a sizeable sea voyage. The end product does have a few slight shortcomings – a feather quill that doesn’t come out (in a book like this, I found myself nearly yanking the page in half), only two period playing cards (the book’s description claims it contains “period playing cards”, which may mislead one to expect an entire deck) and an inserted compass in the inside back cover that is only for show, rather than functional. But in most all other respects, this book is a true gem.

Completing it all is a pirate flag tucked into the back cover (approx 20′ x 20′). The material appears to be cotton, rather than the more common polyester, although the silk-screened Jolly Roger only appears on one side. Both would have been nice, but being as most young pirates will likely stick it on the wall (rather than hoist it up a mast), it probably makes no real difference.

A fun-filled book, and highly recommended.

I’m going to be honest – I was not looking foward to reading this book. The simple fact is that, at a glance, it has little unique to offer. The back cover essentially claims it to be a collection of short stories about pirates – and that’s about it. But therein lies the tragedy, as many folks – shortsighted individuals such as myself – might grab this book from the shelf, half-heartedly read the description, and then put it back with a ho-hum attitude. And that would be a shame, as this book is nothing short of brilliant.

Tales of the Atlantic Pirates is composed of 13 short stories, ranging from 1671 right up through 2006. Each is historically inspired, sometimes borrowing historical events and figures, other times injecting a small dose of folklore-based supernatural. And each story concludes with a brief paragraph or two that explains the historical (or folk-lore) inspirations that led to the creation of said story.

Gee, my own description sounds pretty dry as well. But perhaps that’s because this book’s primary virtue is one that’s not so easy to convey. In short – the writing is simply outstanding. I’m not talking about the spelling and grammar; what I mean is that Tales of the Atlantic Pirates is an absolute page turner. Each story is full of characters and situations that are fascinating and ring true. The tales feel like excerpts to much larger, grander stories, and yet not once in reading it did I feel the need to scramble to get my bearings. Whether reading about zombie pirates from Haiti, the girl who stows away to serve with her pirate captain father, or the young SeaScouts searching for pirate treasure, each story was grippingly entertaining, while also being surprisingly educational to the genuine historical accounts that inspired them.

Throughout, Tales of the Atlantic Pirates is an intriguing and effortless read. Author Geoffrey Girard did a smashing job, and I could continue to blubber on – from his incredible cleverness at inserting 1920′s mobsters so seamlessly in to a collection of pirate tales, to his novel way of envisioning Captain Blackbeard and Lieutenant Maynard’s final battle. But really, I hate to embarrass everyone. Suffice to say, this is a fantastic read for any age, and you really, truly should check it out for yourself.

OK, get this. The author is hanging out on the beach one day and talks to a stranger who mentions how pirates once built their own kingdoms in Madagascar. The author then decides to go check it out for himself, but rather than fly or rent a ship he mooches, finesses, and bribes his way one island at a time, meeting the strangest assortment of folks along the way.

This man is my hero.

True piracy, at least its romantic swashbuckling form, is dead. But its ghost clings tightly to Kevin Rushby’s exploits as he works his way slowly towards Madagascar through jungles, riots, whale orgies, and most every other sort of obstacle imaginable. But this isn’t really a book about adventure – it’s about reality, and how reality in other parts of the world can be so different from our own. Rushby survives various cultures and climates just trying to make it from one day to the next, getting food and lodging where and how he can. And all the while he slowly works his way towards Madagascar in hope of finding pirate descendents and some form of evidence that pirate utopias once existed. When he finally reaches the conclusion of his search, what he does discover is surprising (and I thought very satisfying.)

I love to travel, but am unlikely to island-hop my way to Madagascar anytime soon. I envy Kevin Rushby’s experiences, and I’m grateful he saw fit to record them in such an entertaining and informative manner. A must read, and a wonderfully refreshing change of pace from the typical historical or fictional pirate novel.

Girl pirates were a rarity. In the male-dominated world in which pirates resided, coupled with the complications aroused (heh) by women at sea – real and imagined – there just wasn’t much room for femine scallywaggs wishing to engage in a bit of pillaging and Spaniard skewering. But as in any time period, there were a few headstong lassies who found the gumption within themselves to buck the system and take to life of piracy. Anne Bonney and Mary Read are the two most famous, and certainly the only lady pirates the average person might be able to name. Grace O’Mally and Cheng I Sao have found their ways into the hearts and minds of hardcore pirate enthusiasts, but any other female pirates seem to elude all but the most diligent historians.

Author Sara Lorimer has attempted to remedy this unfortunate situation with her book Booty: Girl Pirates on the High Seas. Through a series of short stories and fanciful illustrations (depicted in a vaguely Picasso-esque manner by Susan Synarski), she shares the tales of no less than twelve female pirates. Included are of course the four mentioned above, as well as eight more she-pirates from around the world, such as Rachel Wall, Fanny Campbell, and Lady Killigrew. Also covered is New York’s Sadie the Goat*, along with an Indian Pirate Queen whose name has sadly been lost to history.

Each story is covered clearly, concisely, and entertainingly. The writing style is suitable for most ages, but seems geared towards adolescents. While most of the pirates receive only four or so pages apeice, more than enough detail is present to paint a colorful picture of these forgotten lady swashbucklers.

* I would swear I read in No Quarter Given that the legend of Sadie the Goat was actually a hoax, but darned if I can find the article.