Stories about sailors facing danger are remarkably popular. “The Odyssey,” “Mutiny on the Bounty,” “Moby-Dick,” “Titanic,” and even “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” combine mystery, danger, fear, isolation, and, often, moral dilemmas. These tales ask audiences to consider how they might respond in a comparable situation. And each yarn enjoys a notoriety that exceeds the very history of the events described. 

“The Wreck of the Mentor” by Eric Jay Dolin fits squarely in this genre. A small American whaling ship is lost in a terrible storm, and its survivors wash up on a tiny speck of land somewhere in the southwest Pacific Ocean. In their bid to survive, the crew will face unimaginable challenges and hardships, including encounters with Pacific Islanders with a wide range of ideas about how to treat their unexpected visitors. 

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, “whaling was one of the most important industries in the colonies,” Dolin tells us. What started as “drift whaling,” when whales washed up on beaches, soon became “shore whaling,” during which mariners sought prey not too far from land. As the demand for whale oil increased and the number of whales found near land dropped off, “offshore whaling” was born – and larger ships traveled far and wide in search of the holy grail of whaling, the sperm whale. 

The Mentor was a typical whaleship and its 21-member crew, who ranged in age from 15 to 32, was also usual for the era. Eight of the sailors were “green hands” who had never been to sea. Dolin notes that the work they were taking on was “speculative and highly risky” and later calls it “notoriously hazardous and often deadly.” The ships and their crews would be at sea for years and, if not enough whale oil was brought back, the sailors didn’t get paid. 

After leaving New Bedford, Massachusetts, in July 1831 and not finding much in the Atlantic Ocean, Captain Edward C. Barnard decided to round the Cape of Good Hope and cross the Indian Ocean into what he hoped were more fruitful waters of the Pacific. But late one night in May 1832, a fierce storm pushed the ship onto the reefs at Palau – an archipelago of around 340 islands located in the Micronesia region in the Western Pacific. 

Without consulting the captain, the first mate and nine other men jumped into one of the small boats used for hunting whales and abandoned ship. They were never seen again. The 11 men who remained spent a terrifying night on board before departing at dawn. They rowed another of the small whaleboats until they washed ashore on a cay – a small, low island made mostly of sand. Totally exhausted, they disembarked and collapsed. Soon, Indigenous islanders found them.

What follows is a complex and intriguing tale that involves multiple years, islands, and groups of Pacific Islanders. In some cases, the crew was welcomed and treated well. In others, they were subject to violent attacks. It is safe to say they never felt comfortable or secure. 

In exchange for a promise to return with guns, powder, and other provisions, one Indigenous group helped the crew construct a canoe so they could sail to another island where other Westerners lived. But this entailed an 800-mile journey over open ocean with only an ancient compass and the stars to guide them. The result was predictable, and they were found washed up on another remote island and, effectively, enslaved. 

Eventually, a Spanish merchant ship hove into view and Captain Barnard was able to escape – he left the other men behind but promised to return. A year later, the conditions on the island grew even harsher, and the survivors of the Mentor began to die. Before long, only two of the original crew members were left.

But in November 1834 – more than three years after leaving on their voyage and more than two years after being shipwrecked – a British merchant ship appeared and, in exchange for gifts of iron from the ship, the two remaining survivors were able to leave. It would be May 1835 before they landed in New York. 

The story comes down to us because the two survivors wrote books about their experiences. Dolin skillfully weaves these accounts and other materials into a compelling narrative. He notes that his account is one-sided because no records compiled by the Pacific Islanders are available. But Dolin, who widely consults other historical and archaeological records, goes out of his way to offer multiple explanations for the actions of the islanders. 

The book hits all the points that make stories about sailors in peril so compelling. Danger is a constant. So is fear. They are isolated in a remote corner of the Pacific far from the trade routes where they might be discovered. Moral choices abound, such as: Should a captain stay with his crew or leave when he has the chance in hopes of organizing a rescue? 

America is an uneasy country as we mark our 250th anniversary. Opinion polls suggest most Americans are proud of our founding story, but deeply conflicted and pessimistic about the future. “The Wreck of the Mentor” reminds us about the unimaginable challenges many early Americans faced and the tenacity they demonstrated in overcoming them.