'Teignmouth Electron' deals with the tragic and extraordinary story of amateur yachtsman, Donald Crowhurst, who was one of eight competitiors in the 1968 Sunday Times Golden Globe Race, the first single-handed non-stop around the world yacht race.

In early 1968, desperate entrepreneur Donald Crowhurst was trying to sell a nautical navigation device he had developed when he saw that the Sunday Times would be sponsoring the Golden Globe Race, the first ever solo, round-the-world sailing competition. An avid amateur sailor, Crowhurst sensed a marketing opportunity and shocked the world by entering the competition using an untested trimaran of his own design. Shock soon turned to amazement when he quickly took the lead, checking in by radio message from locations far ahead of his seasoned competitors. But on July 10, 1969, roughly eight months after he had sailed from England--and less than two weeks from his expected triumphant return--his wife was informed that his boat, the Teignmouth Electron, had been discovered drifting quietly, abandoned in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Crowhurst was missing, assumed drowned. How did he come to such an end when his race had begun with such incredible promise? In this masterpiece of investigative journalism, Nicholas Tomalin and Ron Hall reconstruct one of the greatest modern stories of one man's descent into self-delusion, public deception, and madness. Based on in-depth interviews with Crowhurst's family and friends, combined with gripping excerpts from his logbooks that revealed (among other things) he had been falsifying his locations all along, Tomalin and Hall paint an unforgettable, haunting portrait of a complex, deeply troubled man and his final fateful journey.

This is the story of two single-handed non-stop round-the-world voyages: Robin Knox-Johnston's in 1968/69 and Ellen MacArthur's in 2004/05. Although there were similarities – both voyages started and finished in Falmouth, for instance, and neither sailor was in a conventional race – the story is mainly one of contrasts, mostly as a consequence of thirty-six years of technological developments. These gave MacArthur the opportunity for a considerably faster voyage, but that didn't necessarily make things any easier for her. When Knox-Johnston set sail in Suhaili, no one knew if it was possible for a human being or a boat to survive such a voyage; and when MacArthur commissioned her boat B&Q, many considered that a high-performance trimaran of that size could not be safely sailed around the world by one person. Whatever comparisons are made, the question as to which was the greater achievement is futile: both voyages were utterly remarkable. MacArthur is no longer 'the fastest', of course – her time has since been beaten by three Frenchmen – but she is still the fastest British solo circumnavigator, while Knox-Johnston's record as 'the first' will be there for all time.

As long as there have been people willing to believe the unbelievable, people have been duped. In the best storytelling tradition, readers can follow the tales of: • How the Nazis planned to destroy the British economy during World War II by flooding the world with millions of fake British banknotes • How an infamous radio broadcast had American citizens convinced that Martians were invading the country • How one of the 20th century’s most elaborate scams — conducting tours to the lost Tasaday tribe in the Philippines — fooled the world’s media and top scientists for nearly a decade. The author’s fascination with the boldness and inventiveness of the swindlers, as well as their motives, makes for a compelling read. The stories instill a sense of disbelief, amusement and even grudging admiration for these ingenious scam artists who often (but not always) meet a bad end. Accompanied by graphic-style artwork, each tale offers a great escape for readers drawn to true stories presented in a lively fashion.

Spanning two decades, this frank, witty, and provocative volume—part essay collection, part diary—charts a course through the Pacific Northwest, American history, and current events as witnessed by “one of our most gifted observers” (Newsday). For more than thirty years, Jonathan Raban has written with infectious fascination about people and places in transition or on the margins, about journeys undertaken and destinations never quite reached, and, as an Englishman transplanted in Seattle, about what it means to feel rooted in America. Stops en route include a Missoula bar, a Tea Party convention in Nashville hosted by Sarah Palin, the Mississippi in full flood, a trip to Hawaii with his daughter, a steelhead river in the Cascades, and the hidden corners of his adopted hometown, Seattle. He deftly explores public and personal spaces, poetry and politics, geography and catastrophe, art and economy, and the shifts in various arenas that define our society. Whether the topic is Robert Lowell or Barack Obama, or how various painters, explorers, and homesteaders have engaged with our mythical and actual landscape, he has an outsider’s eye for the absurd, and his tone is intimate, never nostalgic, and always fresh. Driving Home is irresistibly insightful about America’s character, contradictions, and idiosyncrasies.