Richard Zacks, author of The Pirate Coast, subtitles the book ‘Thomas Jefferson, the First Marines, and the Secret Mission of 1805.’ To be honest, there is just a smattering of Jefferson to be found in this book, but that’s a good thing. Not that readers would not find Jefferson’s foreign policy work in the early 19^th century Middle East interesting…most probably would, and I’m sure there are other books that cover it well.

The Pirate Coast is much more concerned with the U.S. Navy and the secret mission against the Barbary State of Tripoli, thankfully. The main protagonists here are Dartmouth-educated U.S. Navy Captain William Eaton, the small band of U.S. Marines and sailors at his command and the Bedouin mercenaries who assist him in his mission. The number of people involved in this exotic adventure in North Africa is truly astounding, with the list numbering up into the 100s on either side. The most important diplomats, heads of state, pashas, beys and military personnel are listed at the beginning of The Pirate Coast and readers will refer back to that list often: it is hard to keep all of these people straight while reading without help.

What is not difficult to keep in mind are the events that lead up to U.S. involvement in North Africa in the first place. The states of Morocco, Tunis, Algiers and Tripoli had been terrorizing the Mediterranean for hundreds of years at the beginning of the 19^th century. Ships from every western European seafaring nation, from Denmark to Portugal, had the misfortune of having their merchant vessels seized and looted, and their crews sold into slavery along the coasts of North Africa and throughout the Islamic world. Occasionally western navies would launch anti-pirate sweeps, but more often than not European governments would pay ransoms for their crews as well as tributes to the North African governments to prevent future attacks. Payment for security had been the rule for hundreds of years.

Into this pirate culture sailed the 36-gun frigate USS Philadelphia and her crew of characters, led by Captain William Bainbridge. Deployed by the U.S. as one of six ships of its infant navy in the autumn of 1803, the Philadelphia was sailing off the Barbary Coast to send a clear message from America: hands off!

The Philadelphia’s Mediterranean cruise was going relatively smoothly, documented by an unusually literate crew for the time, including 34 year old sailor William Ray. Smoothly, that is, until the American ship was chased down by a Barbary corsair and wound up beached on the Kaliusa Reef just yards from the Muslim capital city. Ultimately, Bainbridge and his 300+ crew had become enslaved themselves.

The Pirate Coast really takes off at this point. Zacks’ gift for vivid description is fantastic as the rest of the title moves from the crew’s imprisonment, to William Eaton’s intricate assembling of a rescue party and all of the politicking that involves, to great scenes in Tripoli and the infighting between the warring Pashas Hamet and Youssef.

While The Pirate Coast is 400+ pages long, the length is barely noticeable because of the author’s effortless, engaging prose. William Eaton, as the chief American personality, is also someone most men will find they can identify with: stubborn, easily annoyed and crotchety while also hard working and honest. Eaton is almost an anti-hero because he has so many faults. The reader can’t help but empathize with the characterization that Zack’s develops for Eaton, one of the more interesting and forgotten characters in American history, and it is an fascinating thrill to follow him through some intense battle sequences and foreign locales.

From the North African settings to the great character development to the engaging nautical themes, Zack’s The Pirate Coast will be enjoyed by American history aficionados, U.S. Marines, naval fans and readers who enjoy international intrigue, diplomacy and spy games. It is one of the better books I have read in the last few years. The historical tale it tells is better than most fiction and will force you to stop and think the next time you hear the Marine Corps Hymn. At least, it made me stop and think.