When author Johnny Wray was a lad at school in the 1920s, his form master was most disparaging of his writing, describing it as: "Conglomerations of facts occasioned by heterogeneous concatenations of stupid irrelevancies."
Happily, Wray didn't take those criticisms too deeply to heart and instead went on to write the maritime memoir, South Sea Vagabonds: proof that his pompous teacher had no idea what he was talking about.
Having just read this gripping tale of life on the high seas, I can say with some authority that Wray is a storyteller of the highest order and it's no surprise his book has been reprinted to celebrate 75 years since its original publication in 1939.
The story begins during the Great Depression, with Wray being given the sack - although he's not entirely disappointed because he wasn't really an office kind of fellow. To prove this point, instead of searching for another job, he resolves to build a boat in his parents' Remuera garden and run away to sea in it - which he would do over and over again.
From the get-go, it appears Wray has set himself an impossible task: to build an ocean-going vessel with begged, borrowed and found materials. At just 21 years old, he has no knowledge of boat-building, no money, no experience, not even any tools. But he turns his hand and mind to the task and he never gives up when most of us would have prudently admitted defeat. And without wanting to give too much away, he pulls it off and the legend of the Ngataki is launched (but you can probably tell that just by looking at the cover or the many delightful photos inside the book).
