If you read only one happy-go-lucky account of whale slaughter this year…

Gus Openshaw is just your average joe, seeking to make a life with his wife and new son. When his plans are thwarted by an angry whale (who swallows his family whole, along with Gus’s right arm), Gus must find a way to make that all-too-common transition from humble catfood cannery worker into whale hunting avenger. This is easier said than done, especially considering that in these kinder, gentler days whale killing is generally frowned upon. One is certain to become entangled in all sorts of legal fiascos. But that’s only the beginning – mutinous crews, renegade princesses, foreign navies, discount arms dealers, and (of course) pirates all serve to make Gus’ adventures a sight more interesting than he’d like.

Readers of Keith Thomson’s previous work, “Pirates of Pensacola” (which I hereby declare the official 2005 Bilgemunky Book of the Year) will recognize several nods and references as Gus travels throughout the Caribbean, including occasional visits to the Spice Islands. Also familiar will be Thomson’s love of creating unique, bizarre, quirky, and dangerous characters, and then putting them into a world just skew of reality. But where “Pirates of Pensacola” was kept in check enough to be nearly believable, with “Gus Openshaw” Thomson has thrown caution to the wind entirely, allowing mechanical squids, mind-bogglingly stupid crewmates, and Bob the Rat to make frequent appearances. But by casting all observations through the eyes of Gus’ dry, blue-collar matter-of-fact personality, even the ludicrous becomes almost believable, and highly comical.

Ivy-league torturers named Kip, farts used as an offensive weapon, whale-worshipping island nations with broadband internet connections, Yahoo – it’s all here, and it’s all good.

This book would be easy to underestimate; its premise of a modern-day classical pirate kidnapping his estranged accountant son in a quest for buried gold sounds like fine material for an over-the-top parody, and its cover featuring a cartoon parrot perched on a lap top computer certainly implies a happy-go-lucky seagoing adventure – yet neither feature betrays a hint of how much is really at work here.

Author Keith Thomson envisions a Caribbean full of modern pirates with roots firmly planted in days of yore. Motorboats and shotguns abound, but so do eye patches and peg legs. Tiny, uncharted islands provide the base of operations for bloodthirsty scallywags as they spend their days pillaging, wenching, and grogging while the rest of the world remains blissfully unaware. Being a comedy, this unlikely scenario could easily be dismissed as a mere quirk of chance or artistic license, but Thomson goes above and beyond the call as he weaves a tale that makes the existence of old-timey pirates not only just-this-side of feasible, but may induce readers to wonder why they themselves couldn’t be so lucky as to have been born in the Sugar Islands.

At its core a fish-out-of-water story, Pirates of Pensacola follows the adventures of Morgan Cooke, an accountant, and his estranged father Isaac, a pirate (who’d been detained by the Florida Penal System for some decades.) Morgan, who’s spent his entire life seeking nothing more than security and a white picket fence, is thrust into a world of scoundrels, brothels, bar fights, and conch-salad sandwiches. He and his father comb the Caribbean in search of a long-lost treasure, all the while pursued by most every sort of unsavory imaginable (up to, and including, a pair of inbred, grudge-toting barbers.) Thomson’s account of their exploits is hilarious, but it’s also exciting and touching. His characters are brimming with personality; they share any range of stereotypical, yet somehow believable, pirate traits. By the same token, Thomson’s descriptions of the various pirate islands and towns flow with so much local color you can almost smell the conch-burger.

Pirates of Pensacola is a fantastic read. Brilliantly clever and funny, Keith Thomson has done a remarkable job creating a world that will ring familiar to many pirate enthusiasts. Familiar, not because we’ve been there, but because this is the world as it SHOULD exist – a world where lopers can drop their day jobs and man a sloop for a proper day of mayhem, where the ship’s cook is a lousy chef but a master gunner, and where, absent email, phones, or radios, communications are carried from island to island by rum-swilling parrot. It’s a fascinating, edgy, wonderful glimpse at the pirate utopia of our dreams, and I sincerely hope Keith Thomson can show us more very soon.