100 books like On Island Time

Johnny Molloy is surely one of the most prolific outdoor authors ever, with 85 books to his credit so far. Most of those are regional guidebooks, but he has also written a few first-person narratives of his journeys.

This one describes his canoe and kayak trip down the Suwannee River and along Florida's southwest coast to the Everglades. His down-to-earth style really puts you there.

I met Johnny when he was writing a guidebook to Mississippi's hiking trails. After a riverbank lunch of sardines, crackers, and sweet tea, we fired up cigars and swapped yarns. He was just like he sounds in his books–humble and down-to-earth.  

I could have selected any of Don Jackson's four books for this list. Each is a collection of essays about his outdoor adventures spanning locations from Arkansas to Alaska to Borneo. Many, if not most, of the places he writes about involve rivers, which is unsurprising since he's a retired fisheries professor.

I met Don when I was researching a river for a newspaper article. We hit it off and made several canoe trips together. While his books reveal his considerable knowledge of biology, hunting, and fishing, what really sets them apart is a strong sense of the spiritual, as the subtitle of this book indicates.

Bill Mason was a legend in the world of paddling. He was old-school: red and black plaid wool shirt, wood-and-canvas canoe, canvas lean-to-style tent. His sojourns in the North Woods inspired me in my own explorations of the Deep South. When he paddled Lake Superior, I thought of Louisiana's Atchafalaya Swamp. When he canoed the Hood River, I thought of Mississippi's Pascagoula.

This book combines in-depth advice on wilderness travel with accounts of some of Bill's own journeys. He was also an artist and filmmaker. His documentary, Waterwalker, is a must-see classic for anyone who loves adventure on the water. 

I grew up near the Mississippi River, and my father and older brother worked on it for many years, so I was thrilled to run across this in-depth look at the world they inhabited. As the wife of a riverboat pilot, Melody Golding had unparalleled access to the inner workings of river life.

Over the course of a decade, she interviewed more than 100 men and women and let them tell their own stories. An acclaimed photographer, she illustrated this project with fabulous color photos. Thanks to her, I got to ride along the vessels that ply the Mississippi and other waterways, just like my dad and brother once did.

When I first learnt that I would embark on a two-year expedition to Tonga, I knew nothing about that part of the world.

Theroux’s book brought it so much closer and opened up my eyes to many different aspects of the history and culture of South Pacific islands. I also admired Theroux for his endurance when he paddled his way from one island to the next. 

Patrick Leigh Fermor is without question one of the greatest travel writers in the pantheon, and this early work clarifies that reputation. Providing a glimpse of the West Indies in the years immediately following the Second World War, Fermor’s book is rich in description, profound in understanding, exuberant in its overall moods and textures. The author is evocative without being effusive, providing a rich sense of cultural and historical context – island after island – without overloading the reader with a mere density of fact. As is not always the case with travel writers (and even very good travel writers), Fermor himself is never the subject. We see things alongside him, as he sees them – grateful at every moment for his learned, humane, and passionate sensibility. This is one of the first travel books about the West Indies to take the islands and their inhabitants seriously.

This is one of the seminal books in Caribbean history, by one of the region’s foremost historians and long-time Prime Minister of Trinidad and Tobago, Eric Williams. For me, the book was a wonderful introduction to Caribbean history as it opened up doors to peoples and places that had been neglected during much of my education in the United States. The chapters concerning colonial plantation agriculture, its dependence on the enslavement of Africans, and the geopolitics around King Sugar are memorable.

After Columbus Bartolomé de Las Casas probably was the most famous individual in the history of the early Spanish Caribbean. A man of great energy and determination, he wrote lengthy histories of the Caribbean and neighboring mainland as well as this much shorter, highly polemical one. He portrayed the horrors and abuses that the islands’ Indigenous peoples suffered at the hands of Spaniards and was instrumental in persuading the Spanish crown of the necessity of reforms that would offer Indians some protections from the extremes of exploitation. While he might have exaggerated the extent of Spanish cruelty, much of what he recorded can be corroborated. The writings of Las Casas are essential to understanding the Caribbean after Columbus.

A landmark work by virtue of being the first book by a black woman to be published in Britain, this is a powerfully harrowing account of Mary’s own life as a slave in the Caribbean. Though only short, it supplies valuable testimony on the gruesome British exploitation of enslaved people over the centuries, and the many cruelties inflicted upon Mary personally by her brutal ‘owners’. Should be required reading for all those who think of the British Empire with nostalgia.

This is a book about cricket, one of the enduring passions of my life.

Specifically it is about West Indian cricket and life in the author’s home of Trinidad. James was a Marxist intellectual, which is unusual for a cricketer. He writes eloquently and insightfully about cricket and some of its leading characters of 80 years ago. He writes about class and colour in both the Caribbean and England, where he played and reported on cricket for newspapers.

My interest has also been in the British Empire and its impact. The overriding impression this book left with me was the “Britishness” of the people of Trinidad; how much the people had imbibed it. So when many immigrated to Britain in the 1950s it felt like they were going ‘home’, only for many to be ostracised.