Tony Horwitz
Trawler nonetheless paints a memorable and unexpectedly tender portrait of men who perform one of the world's most demanding jobs.
— The Washington Post
Publishers Weekly
Deviating from his usual excursions into the world's rainforests, O'Hanlon (No Mercy) finagles his way onto a Scottish deep-sea fishing boat headed into the North Atlantic waters in January, "the very worst time of year," when storm winds are at their most forceful. The captain and crew seem to like O'Hanlon well enough, even if he is a "mad, seasick writer who's no use to anyone," prone to staring off into the distance when he gets distracted by his thoughts, and he conveys a genuine affection for them as he records their stories. Since there's little to do aboard the ship other than help his marine biologist friend catalogue the various fishes they pull up, and no real scenery to describe besides the wind and the rain, O'Hanlon gets into one long conversation after another-or maybe just one long conversation with intermittent interruptions, as a certain degree of sameness creeps in. O'Hanlon and his shipmates are equally excitable, especially under their sleep-deprived conditions, leading to dialogue peppered with exclamation points and fevered theories about near-total homosexuality within the 19th-century British navy and the possibility that women find trawlermen attractive because fish smell like human pheromones. Though the unrelenting, incongruous manic tone may be off-putting to newcomers, fans of O'Hanlon's trouble-filled sagas will feel right at home. Photos, illus. not seen by PW. Agent, Peter Matson of Sterling Lord. (Jan.) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Having satisfied much of his yearning to see the world, O'Hanlon (Into the Heart of Borneo) takes a voyage that most people would find profoundly unglamorous: an extended journey into the wild seas off the coast of Scotland in a fishing trawler. His apt and evocative descriptions of the ship and of the men who sail on her make it easy to understand why he has earned a place in the short list of contemporary travel writers. While it's doubtful that reading O'Hanlon's title will make anyone want to rush out and book passage on a Scottish trawler, his skillful way with words makes us believe we are safely aboard the Norlantean and sailing off with Luke, Sean, Jerry, and the rest of the irascible crew. His discovery of shipboard superstitions (no green, no women, etc.), his fondness for the idle-time gossip among the men, and his development of an intense fascination for the sea and for the creatures that are hauled up in the fishing nets all contribute in making Trawler a delightful read for travel aficionados. Recommended for larger public libraries.-Joseph L. Carlson, Allan Hancock Coll., Lompoc, CA Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
More hard travel to the underside of natural history from O'Hanlon (No Mercy, 1997, etc.), who boards a trawler headed for bad weather and finds as well a feast of weird sea creatures-not to mention the semi-madness of the sleep-deprived. The author begins his tale with rich, dark humor, describing his terrible seasickness as the hundred-foot-plus trawler Norlantean runs north out of Scotland, into a hurricane. The skipper has mortgaged his life to the boat, so out into the force-12 winds he must go through the storm to the fishing grounds. As the Norlantean pitches and heaves, O'Hanlon describes what it's like to be at the mercy of bad weather: the lumps (two or three jumbo waves rolled into one) coming out of the night like your worst dream, the pure peril, the confusion, the elemental fear. This is raucously good reading matter, delivered with uneasy drollery. But just when you think the storm will be the heart of the tale, the action shifts to the gutting-room floor, where O'Hanlon and his marine biologist friend Luke will spend most the rest of the book. There, the two of them will slowly become unhinged by their lack of sleep, engaging in extended, monologuish, digressive, fascinating conversations whose various subjects include: the curious fish they pick from the catch (Esmark's eelspout, Blackmouth catshark, Greater forebeard), the travels of a sperm whale's right nostril, the evolution of a squid's eye, their favorite scientists, the spooky woods on the island of Unst, the deadly buckets of slime produced by the hagfish. These conversations ramble, but they burn brightly as well, testaments to lives consumed by overpowering interests. A not-so-long but certainly very strangetrip, with all the dark radiance and queer humor of this author's earlier work. First printing of 35,000. Agent: Pat Kavanagh/PFD