This was a thriller centered around a yachting race from the Canary Islands to Grenada in celebration of Columbus's 500th anniversary. Despite a promising prologue, this did not turn out to be a page turner. More like a snoozer. I use my transistor under my pillow to put me to sleep. Some nights NPR covering the sequester or BBC talking about Syria couldn't put me to sleep. I would turn to my Kindle where The Final Passage was stored and Timothy Frost would knock me out cold in 1½ pages.
I guess I just couldn't identify with the chief protagonist who made all the mistakes I never would have:
- Never marry a woman who won't sail with you.
- Don't own or race a yacht longer than
- Don't find yourself owning a yacht in a partnership; not even with your brother; not even with someone who everyone tells you is your brother.
- Don't bet on a yacht race you are contending in, especially to the tune of £12,000.
- If you do bet on the race, don't fooking stop and wait for the other guy to catch up with you out of sportsmanship.
- Don't wear -- don't even possess -- a $40,000 Rolex watch.
- Don't go out to sea, sailing alone with your boss's daughter, no matter how she looks doing foredeck in a bikini.
- Don't ever lie to the U.S. Coast Guard or D.E.A for that matter.
- Don't leave your yacht unattended in the Carribean drug highway.
And it goes on and on. So many necessary lessons contained in this saga whose plot is full of twisted turns and contrivances. But I'll not say anymore lest I spoil the story for other potential readers.