I’ve had Michael Crichton’s Pirate Latitudes on my shelf for a while now, having picked it up in a long-ago book buying spree. It has remained on my “to be read” list, and has recently been moved over to the “have read” column.
I have a fondness for his books, usually finding them well worth the read. I recall discovering Jurassic Park, then was happy to see the original movie come out, which treated its source material very well. Several of his books, of course, have been made into movies and supposedly this one will, too.
Crichton, evidently, enjoyed Jamaica and spent time there in research. The settings are realistic and he has a good eye for historical detail. With pirates, that means a lot of cursing, drinking, fornicating, and grisly murders.
Once the preliminaries are dispensed with, the hero, Captain Charles Hunter, gathers a crew of specialists and heads toward a marooned Spanish galleon in hopes of plunder. They have adventures and misadventures along the way, and on the way back.
Some critics have noted the book seems a tad rushed, especially toward the end. Crichton died in 2008, and this novel was discovered, complete, on his computer’s hard drive. So, in essence, this is his last complete book. Several have speculated that had he lived and polished it some more, it would be better.
As it is, though, it’s a fine book. Tightly plotted, it’s written for entertainment. And in that regard, it delivers.