The Southern Ocean lies south of all the other major oceans – the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian – between Antarctica and Australia, South Africa, South America, and New Zealand. It streams along just south of the notoriously treacherous continental capes, where oceans mix and mountainous seas have devastated shipping for centuries. Several remote sub-Antarctic islands – Kerguelen, South Georgia, Heard, Macquarie, among others – feel the force of the Southern Ocean’s tides and bear the brunt of its winds. Only cold-adapted animals like penguins, seals, whales, and krill thrive in such extreme climates. Scientists have felt the lure of the Southern Ocean for centuries and still visit its islands and the Antarctic Peninsula each year. They and, increasingly, tourists now dominate the human presence in this remote region of the earth, where sealers and whalers once plundered and became rich.

Wild Sea is organised thematically: ‘Ocean’, ‘Wind’, ‘Coast’, ‘Ice’, ‘Deep’, ‘Current’, and ‘Front’. In each, McCann weaves vignettes of Southern Ocean exploration, experience, and exploitation into chapters, some tight as sailcloth, others a little looser. The book’s breadth – philosophy, science, literature, natural history, fishing, hunting, commerce – is greater than its depth, clearly targeting a general audience. Chapters as themes was a bold choice. A chronological narrative of human contact with the Southern Ocean would have been safer and avoided the repetition that was inevitable as characters appear and reappear in different contexts. But I was always impressed by how McCann effortlessly structures the narrative of each theme.

The human history and contemplation of the Southern Ocean goes back almost two thousand years, as philosophers grappled with how the earth maintained its equilibrium, speculating that a great southern land counterbalanced the land masses in the northern hemisphere. The British, Dutch, and French sent out ships in the eighteenth century in search of such a land. One of these was the Endeavour, commanded by James Cook. These seafarers risked death and discovered not the hoped-for land but bitter cold, extreme weather, and ‘prodigious’ waves that dwarfed anything experienced before.

Map-making and wind charts followed closely after early voyages, and these were especially useful for ships transporting people to the new colony of Australia. It was soon realised that harnessing the power of the winds of the ‘Roaring Forties’ (latitude 40–50 °S) and ‘Furious Fifties’ (latitude 50–60 °S) could mean the trip from England to Adelaide was reduced to just over two months. This eased the process of colonisation and enhanced the potential for remote industries like sealing and whaling.

A lone penguin on an iceberg in the Southern Ocean (photo by Christopher Michel/Flickr)

McCann writes at length on the harvesting of marine resources, especially in the chapter ‘Current’. This was for me the most comprehensive, insightful, and compelling topic in her book. Currents, especially those that upwell nutrient- and food-rich water from the ocean’s depths, are what drives food webs that once supported countless seals and whales. The sealing and whaling industries took off in the early 1800s. By 1911–13, whalers around the Antarctic Peninsula, South Shetland, South Orkney, and South Sandwich islands alone were killing more than ten thousand whales annually. This increased with each year, aided by the introduction of more efficient harpoon technology and factory ships. As whale numbers decreased, efforts intensified, but whaling became less and less economic. Nevertheless, it took until 1982 for the international moratorium on commercial whaling to be ratified. The impacts of this slaughter on the Southern Ocean and its wildlife are still being felt to this day.

Although the plunder that went on paints an indelible, blood-red stain on the history of the Southern Ocean and its islands, the more edifying riches that were gained by adventure and science are at the vanguard of Wild Sea. The cast of characters that sailed from obscurity into notoriety are many. Anyone with a little history will recognise names like Douglas Mawson, James Clark Ross, Robert Falcon Scott, and Ernest Shackleton. The names of scientists may be less well-known, but McCann describes their achievements with equal passion. McCann also draws our attention to the oft-neglected women whose contributions include, but are not limited to, the mapping of the sea floor (Marie Tharp), marine biology (Isobel Bennett, Mary Gillham, Susan Ingham, and Hope Black (née Macpherson), and conservation (Rachel Carson).

Joy McCann (photo by Leonie Keogh)At times I wanted to hear more stories of the characters who populate the history of human experience in the Southern Ocean. The Southern Ocean apparently selects for extremophiles, which makes for great storytelling. Some of my favourites were the participants in the ‘Sunday Times Golden Globe Race’: a solo, non-stop, round-the-world race that began in Britain in 1968. Participants variously retired, lost interest, or committed suicide as the race slowly turned to farce. Only Robin Knox-Johnston completed the race, ten months after he set out. But as I read, I realised that people are mere supporting cast in a much larger production. The real heroes in Wild Sea are the capes, the winds, the mountainous waves, the remote islands, as well as the seabirds, the seals, and the whales of the Southern Ocean. And, of course, the icebergs.