Declan O Donnell, last seen in Brian Doyle's Mink River, is back here at the helm of the Plover, a small boat the "size of a roomy coffin." As Declan tells us of his trip along the Oregon coast, "I am on a voyage to nowhere, and in no hurry to get there neither."
But he's not completely alone. Accompanying him on this sea are objects (he keeps a list). Here are half a bottle of wine, a plastic turtle, a tiny head of a sea lion pup, a very old basketball, a ukulele and more--and a ship, dead ahead. It's Declan's first encounter with Enrique and his ship, Tanets. "You want beer?" Enrique says, "Maybe we will shoot you and take your boat." They don't; the pirates leave, but they will return.
Declan has a chance rendezvous with Piko, a native in a canoe, who brings his brain-damaged and crippled daughter, Pipa, aboard the Plover. More people are met and welcomed--a mysterious boy from a forested land and a minister exiled because he was too much of a visionary. Perhaps Doyle should have subtitled his novel The Plover: In Which Our Sea-Faring Hero Declan O Donnell, Gentleman Sailor, Encounters Diverse and Unique Peoples, Lands, and Adventures. And then there's the matter of that persistent "fecking hole" that Declan patches over and over again because the "ocean is a professional assassin, my friend."
The Plover is a fun ride with meaning and heart, lots of it, as well as jokes, scares, storms at sea, surprises, magic, absurdity--and humanity, exuberant joyful humanity. --Tom Lavoie, former publisher