100 Books Like Rowing to Latitude

Terese Marie Mailhot’s raw account of her traumatic childhood and its enduring consequences took my breath away. A nearly lifelong Alaskan, I am acutely aware of the social problems afflicting Indigenous communities; in fact, I’ve done research on the topic.

Yet, I have never read a more honest, painful, and beautifully written testimonial by an Indigenous person about her experience with childhood poverty and neglect, substance abuse in the home, sexual abuse, and resulting poor self-esteem and self-doubt. Mailhot, who was raised on Seabird Island in British Columbia, began writing her memoir as mental health therapy and it became a process of self-discovery.

Her experience highlights the effects of historical trauma on Indigenous individuals and communities, as well as the prevalence of maltreatment of Indigenous women. 

The vivid depictions of the exquisite Arctic landscape, of Inupiaq social life and culture, and of the tender relationship between the cleric author and his Athabascan/Dena’ trail guide Walter Harper thoroughly engrossed me. I found the British-born scholarly author’s tone and voice utterly charming, and his sincere appreciation for the Inupiaq people and their culture deeply moving.

This book shatters stereotypes of ethnocentric missionaries who went to destroy Indigenous languages and cultures and sought to “change Natives into white men.”  It illustrates the variability among missionaries and denominations that introduced Christianity to the peoples of the North. As a historian, I strive to “complicate the narrative” for my students. This book, besides being a fascinating read, brilliantly complicates the narrative of missionary history in Alaska.

Inuit leader Sheila Watt-Cloutier speaks with such authenticity as she calls for environmental justice that one can’t help but be moved. I found her story of growing up on the land in northern Quebec (Nunavik), raised by strong women, finding her voice, and becoming president of the Inuit Circumpolar Council (ICC) and later chair of the International Council deeply inspirational.

In those capacities, she focused on addressing both persistent organic pollutants (POPs) that become concentrated in the Arctic and global warming that threatens Inuit lives and lifeways by melting the ice. I also admire her use of her leadership role to call upon her people to reclaim their lives and destinies by drawing upon their traditional values to address the social problems that are threatening individual and community health.

Sherry Simpson’s adventures in Alaska’s wilds are less “extreme” than Jill Fredston’s, but her writing about her experiences is even more thought-provoking. I love her notion of “wayfinding”–of relying on one’s own navigational and cognitive skills to explore nature or ideas. Equally intriguing is her concept of ground truthing–walking the land or going through a process oneself to really “get it.” She contrasts the understanding that personal exploration cultivates with the information maps provide. No comparison!

These ideas raise the question: how well can we comprehend the experiences and realities of others if we haven’t ground-truthed them? Clearly, having immersed oneself in a foreign culture can foster empathy, but I want to believe that, short of that, with goodwill, one can recognize others’ humanity.

Talk about a woman taking on a challenge to prove she can do it! Tori Murden McClure sails across the Atlantic Ocean in a 23-foot wooden rowboat. This is an immersive read, in which I felt what she felt as she powers the boat by human strength. Despite no real human interaction once she is on the water, McClure brings her experiences to life (she has to start over after going 3,000 miles) by narrating the journey in such detail that I was there with her. I personally find the open ocean terrifying and was grateful to have the “experience” without having to actually experience it. 

I love this book because it was the first book of poetry I ever read that made me realize I could get it, that poems could be about me, women, feelings, relationships, my experience. It blew my mind.

I was an English major, and when the professors talked about modern poetry by men, I always felt baffled. These were poems I could understand and relate to. I read them shouting with joy, even though they were not happy poems.

It was okay to write and read poems about all kinds of feelings, and they didn't have to be in mysterious language. The language of these poems is wonderful, but it's also clear.

I’ve read this several times. The book chronicles the beginning of U.S. women’s rowing at the international competitive level.

It illustrates how women had to fight to get coaching, equipment, and even a locker room. It also shows that women athletes are every bit as tough and competitive as their male counterparts.

As a female competitive rower myself, I am indebted to them for opening the door.

Another favorite from Lewis, this book tells a fictionalized tale of an Olympic gold medalist hired to turn a hapless group of UC Santa Barbara rowers into a competitive collegiate team.

What ensues is a funny, but inspiring, tale of transformation, offbeat coaching methods, and camaraderie.

As a sometime rowing coach, I found it thoroughly engrossing and entertaining.

I’d already bought the book when we decided to drive from our home in Sonoma, California, to visit friends who live in the San Juan Islands off the Washington Coast. I packed the book but also downloaded the Audible version. We started listening as we got on the road. I never opened the book.

It’s just a great story set in the time my parents were in high school and college. It was a world with which I was made familiar by their stories. The main character’s difficult early life resonates with anyone who has listened to the greatest generation talk about what it was like growing up during the Depression.

Yes, the action during the rowing was exciting, but I enjoyed the development of the characters, especially Joe Rantz, and his personal challenges and victories, more than all competition scenes.

Grandad has always said that the giant in town is real and a helpful and kind friend, but Billie doesn’t believe in Grandad’s tall tales. When Billie himself discovers the giant, and runs from fright and panic at this huge creature, he comes to understand why the giant has kept himself hidden. Feeling awful about his overreaction, Billie makes it his mission to make it up to the giant by making him a very special gift. Full of humour and heart, Grandad’s Secret Giant shows us that acceptance and kindness towards all people, big or small, is important, and David Litchfield’s stunning illustrations glow on the pages in this beautiful book.