and shipbuilder William Wallace Bates, does not. Ferreiro’s book opens new doors for the history of nautical architecture and shipbuilding in the United States and sets fresh standards for the field. As a historian of technology, Ferreiro explores the driving process of change. In his earlier Ships and Science, he argues that the main forces driving the development of naval architecture and adoption of ship theory came with the rise of modern naval bureaucracies in the 17th and 18th centuries. “The systematic use of ship theory,” Ferreiro asserts, “made sense only within the bureaucratic organization established for naval construction, which came to include a strong central control of design and system of professional formation that enabled constructors to learn and carry out calculations.” In Bridging the Seas, Ferreiro argues that use of ship theory, rationalization of ship design and construction, and professional formation of naval architecture characteristic of the work of British shipyards in the industrial age were driven by “a bureaucratic need by shipowners who demanded greater control over the ships they were buying, including tighter scheduling, improved performance, and the safe delivery of cargoes.” At times, these arguments, although valuable, seem a bit forced. These minor limitations, however, in no way diminish the value of the book, which has led me to reconsider the theoretical assumptions of my scholarship and significantly expanded my technical understanding of naval architecture and the industrialization of seafaring. Bridging the Sea is an essential book for scholars and naval architects interested in the history of their profession, not the general reader. It should be required reading in graduate programs in nautical archaeology, maritime history, and the history of technology. John Odin Jensen, PhD Pensacola, Florida Sons of the Waves: The Common Seaman in the Heroic Age of Sail by Stephen Taylor (Yale University Press, New Haven, CT, 2020, 416pp, illus, map, notes, biblio, index, isbn 978-0-300-24571-4; $30hc) Stephen Taylor’s Sons of the Waves tells a story that is both broad and limited, unique yet familiar. The book chronicles 58
the history of one particular group of men in the maritime world: common British sailors, primarily those who manned the men-of-war, but merchant sailors as well, during the years 1740 to 1840. By examining that particular 100-year period, Taylor is able to illustrate the importance that “Jack Tar” played in Britain’s maritime
dominance, which in that timeframe went from substantial to historically unprecedented. He does a fine job of giving the foremast Jack pride of place in that evolution, examining both the social and economic factors that led to the creation of the iconic British sailor, as well as the evolution of the mythology. Taylor points out that the British tar “was, simply, the most successful fighting man ever produced by his native land.” Taylor aims to tell the story of the British sailor through his own words, and he accomplishes this by relying on an impressive array of primary sources. It is one of the great delights of Sons of the Waves for any reader with an interest in maritime history or fiction; it is always a pleasure to read the genuine words of actual participants. While Taylor ferrets out a number of obscure voices, he also relies heavily on several memoirs that will already be well known to fans of maritime history. Much use is made of The Nagle Journal; The Adventures of John Wetherell; The Life and Adventures of John Nicol, Mariner; and Jack SEA HISTORY 175, SUMMER 2021