It seemed like a good idea. Tired of everyday life ashore, Farley Mowat would find a sturdy boat in Newfoundland and roam the salt sea over, free as a bird. What he found was the worst boat in the world, and she nearly drove him mad. The Happy Adventure, despite all that Farley and his Newfoundland helpers could do, leaked like a sieve. Her engine only worked when she felt like it. Typically, on her maiden voyage, with the engine stuck in reverse, she backed out of the harbour under full sail. And she sank, regularly. How Farley and a varied crew, including the intrepid lady who married him, coaxed the boat from Newfoundland to Lake Ontario is a marvellous story. The encounters with sharks, rum-runners, rum and a host of unforgettable characters on land and sea make this a very funny book for readers of all ages.

"First published by The Curtis Publishing Company in 1957"--Title page verso.

A father and son sail 17,000 miles in a 25 foot boat they built together.

The northeastern seaboard of Canada and the United States, extending from Labrador to Cape Cod, was the first region of North America to suffer from human exploitation. Farley Mowat informs extensive historical and biological research with his direct experience living in and observing this region. When it was first published more than 20 years ago, Sea of Slaughter served as a catalyst for environment reform, raising awareness of the decline and destruction of marine and coastal species. Today, it remains a prescient environmental classic, serving, now as ever, as a haunting reminder of the impact of human interest on the natural world.

It can be surprising which objects float and which don't. An apple floats, but a ball of aluminum foil does not. If that same ball of foil is shaped into a boat, it floats! Why? And how is it possible that a huge ship made of steel can float? Answering these questions about density and flotation is David A. Adler's clear, concise text, paired with Anna Raff's delightful illustrations. Activities that demonstrate the properties of flotation are included.

In 1957, Farley Mowat shipped out aboard one of Newfoundland’s famous coastal steamers, tramping from outport to outport along the southwest coast. The indomitable spirit of the people and the bleak beauty of the landscape would lure him back again and again over the years. In the process of falling in love with a people and a place, Mowat also met the woman who would be the great love of his life. A stunningly beautiful and talented young artist, Claire Wheeler insouciantly climbed aboard Farley’s beloved but jinxed schooner as it lay on the St. Pierre docks, once again in a cradle for repairs, and changed both their lives forever. This is the story of that love affair, of summers spent sailing the Newfoundland coast, and of their decision to start their life together in Burgeo, one of the province’s last remaining outports. It is also an unforgettable portrait of the last of the outport people and a way of life that had survived for centuries but was now passing forever. Affectionate, unsentimental, this is a burnished gem from an undiminished talent. I was inside my vessel painting the cabin when I heard the sounds of a scuffle nearby. I poked my head out the companionway in time to see a lithesome young woman swarming up the ladder which leaned against Happy Adventure’s flank. Whining expectantly, the shipyard dog was endeavouring to follow this attractive stranger. I could see why. As slim and graceful as a ballet dancer (which, I would later learn, was one of her avocations), she appeared to be wearing a gleaming golden helmet (her own smoothly bobbed head of hair) and was as radiantly lovely as any Saxon goddess. I invited her aboard, while pushing the dog down the ladder. “That’s only Blanche,” I reassured my visitor. “He won’t bite. He’s just, uh . . . being friendly.” “That’s nice to know,” she said sweetly. Then she smiled . . . and I was lost. —From Bay of Spirits

The sixth-century voyage of St Brendan from Ireland to America, is one of the most fascinating of all sea legends. Could the myth of the Irish monk and his crew sailing the Atlantic in a boat made of leather, nearly a thousand years before Columbus, have been reality? In 1976, Tim Severin and a crew of four men, set out to recreate the Brendan legend. Using the exact same methods in constructing their sailing vessel, they set out on their hazardous voyage, making it one of the most inspiring expeditions in the history of exploration.