Sea of Glory: America's Voyage of Discovery, The U.S. Exploring… (2003 original; edició 2003)

I liked this book about the U.S. Exploring Expedition. Philbrick's prose nicely details both the discoveries and the people involved. ( )

The achievements of the US South Pacific Exploration Expedition were spectacular. During its four years at sea between 1838 and 1842, it logged 87,000 miles; surveyed 280 Pacific Islands; created 180 charts (some of which were in use as late as World War Two); and mapped 800 miles of coastline in the Pacific Northwest and 1,500 miles of the Antarctic coastline. The collection of specimens and artifacts the Expedition’s scientists amassed became the foundation for the Smithsonian’s scientific collections, and the US Botanic Garden, the National Herbarium, the US Hydrographic Office, and the Naval Observatory all owe their existence to the Expedition.

So why has no one heard of it? I would say the main reason the Expedition is not more well-known was a catastrophic failure in leadership; among its many consequences was that its commander Charles Wilkes irreversibly alienated everyone who could have helped him salvage both his own and the Expedition’s reputation and more successfully preserve its memory. A series of courts-martial and mutual recriminations followed the Expedition’s return to the United States, and although the commander was ultimately found not guilty on most of the charges, it was too late to repair the damage. The partisan political climate at the time of the Expedition’s return, as well as some delicate international negotiations, also made it inexpedient to trumpet its achievements at the time.

The Expedition’s broader legacy, though, shines undimmed. One of the greatest was the formation of the Smithsonian itself. The Expedition had returned with a vast array of ethnographic artifacts – the total of four thousand was more than Cook had collected during all three of his voyages. Tens of thousands of geological, botanical, and zoological specimens had also been collected. Then there were the charts and voluminous meteorological, astronomical, magnetic, and oceanographic data. Assembling and analyzing all the data and caring for and displaying the vast collections would have taxed the combined resources of the most scientifically advanced countries in the world at the time – Germany, France, and England – let alone those of a relatively young United States that at the time was considered little more than a scientific backwater. Fortunately for the United States, a representative from the estate of James Smithson had arrived in 1838 with over half a million dollars – equivalent to eleven million today – with instructions that it be used to establish an institution for the “increase and diffusion of knowledge.” Until the Expedition returned in 1842, no one could agree on the exact nature of that institution, and Smithson’s bequest might not have ever been used for a museum if the Expedition had not taken place. Wilkes himself took on protecting the entire collection, and if it hadn’t been for him the US Botanic Garden might not exist at all. And although he had initially made it difficult for the scientists to work effectively during the voyage, he backed them to the hilt afterwards. He successfully lobbied Congress for decades to obtain the necessary funds for publishing all the scientific reports that would flow from the Expedition’s vast quantities of data, and as a result the reputation of the United States as a leader in international science skyrocketed.

Wilkes’s lobbying also had the effect of convincing Congress that the pursuit of scientific knowledge was essential to the country’s progress. As the United States expanded westward, Congress repeatedly funded sophisticated exploring and surveying expeditions, and all of them included at least one scientist. Between 1840 and 1860, Congress subsidized the publication of sixty works associated with the exploration of the West and funded fifteen naval expeditions around the world. The financial outlay would be enormous – between a quarter and a third of the annual federal budget – and never quite matched at any other time in US history, not even during the Space Race. All of this set an important precedent, and if the billions in grant money flowing from the NIH and NSF is any indication, the commitment remains. This commitment to funding scientific research and advancing knowledge may be the Expedition’s greatest legacy of all.

The Expedition also left a little-known literary legacy, because traces of it repeatedly appear in the pages of Moby-Dick. Herman Melville carefully studied the Expedition’s records as part of the research for his masterpiece, the novel itself contains references to the Expedition and its findings, and it is believed Charles Wilkes was the model for Captain Ahab.

I highly recommend this book as providing new information and insight into an obscure part of US history that should be much better-known than it is.

Favorite Quotes:

“As the Ex. Ex. was proving, exploration was as much about discovering what did not exist as it was about finding something new.” (page 77).

Best description of an island I have read in a long time: “Macquarie Island, a wave-washed, penguin-infested pile of rocks 2,100 miles to the south [of Australia].” (page 154) ( )

The achievements of the US South Pacific Exploration Expedition were spectacular. During its four years at sea between 1838 and 1842, it logged 87,000 miles; surveyed 280 Pacific Islands; created 180 charts (some of which were in use as late as World War Two); and mapped 800 miles of coastline in the Pacific Northwest and 1,500 miles of the Antarctic coastline. The collection of specimens and artifacts the Expedition’s scientists amassed became the foundation for the Smithsonian’s scientific collections, and the US Botanic Garden, the National Herbarium, the US Hydrographic Office, and the Naval Observatory all owe their existence to the Expedition.

So why has no one heard of it? I would say the main reason the Expedition is not more well-known was a catastrophic failure in leadership; among its many consequences was that its commander Charles Wilkes irreversibly alienated everyone who could have helped him salvage both his own and the Expedition’s reputation and more successfully preserve its memory. A series of courts-martial and mutual recriminations followed the Expedition’s return to the United States, and although the commander was ultimately found not guilty on most of the charges, it was too late to repair the damage. The partisan political climate at the time of the Expedition’s return, as well as some delicate international negotiations, also made it inexpedient to trumpet its achievements at the time.

The Expedition’s broader legacy, though, shines undimmed. One of the greatest was the formation of the Smithsonian itself. The Expedition had returned with a vast array of ethnographic artifacts – the total of four thousand was more than Cook had collected during all three of his voyages. Tens of thousands of geological, botanical, and zoological specimens had also been collected. Then there were the charts and voluminous meteorological, astronomical, magnetic, and oceanographic data. Assembling and analyzing all the data and caring for and displaying the vast collections would have taxed the combined resources of the most scientifically advanced countries in the world at the time – Germany, France, and England – let alone those of a relatively young United States that at the time was considered little more than a scientific backwater. Fortunately for the United States, a representative from the estate of James Smithson had arrived in 1838 with over half a million dollars – equivalent to eleven million today – with instructions that it be used to establish an institution for the “increase and diffusion of knowledge.” Until the Expedition returned in 1842, no one could agree on the exact nature of that institution, and Smithson’s bequest might not have ever been used for a museum if the Expedition had not taken place. Wilkes himself took on protecting the entire collection, and if it hadn’t been for him the US Botanic Garden might not exist at all. And although he had initially made it difficult for the scientists to work effectively during the voyage, he backed them to the hilt afterwards. He successfully lobbied Congress for decades to obtain the necessary funds for publishing all the scientific reports that would flow from the Expedition’s vast quantities of data, and as a result the reputation of the United States as a leader in international science skyrocketed.

Wilkes’s lobbying also had the effect of convincing Congress that the pursuit of scientific knowledge was essential to the country’s progress. As the United States expanded westward, Congress repeatedly funded sophisticated exploring and surveying expeditions, and all of them included at least one scientist. Between 1840 and 1860, Congress subsidized the publication of sixty works associated with the exploration of the West and funded fifteen naval expeditions around the world. The financial outlay would be enormous – between a quarter and a third of the annual federal budget – and never quite matched at any other time in US history, not even during the Space Race. All of this set an important precedent, and if the billions in grant money flowing from the NIH and NSF is any indication, the commitment remains. This commitment to funding scientific research and advancing knowledge may be the Expedition’s greatest legacy of all.

The Expedition also left a little-known literary legacy, because traces of it repeatedly appear in the pages of Moby-Dick. Herman Melville carefully studied the Expedition’s records as part of the research for his masterpiece, the novel itself contains references to the Expedition and its findings, and it is believed Charles Wilkes was the model for Captain Ahab.

I highly recommend this book as providing new information and insight into an obscure part of US history that should be much better-known than it is.

Favorite Quotes:

“As the Ex. Ex. was proving, exploration was as much about discovering what did not exist as it was about finding something new.” (page 77).

Best description of an island I have read in a long time: “Macquarie Island, a wave-washed, penguin-infested pile of rocks 2,100 miles to the south [of Australia].” (page 154) ( )

Excerpts from my original GR review (Apr 2009):
- This would be a captivating story in any telling, but in the hands of Nathaniel Philbrick it becomes an original epic. I love these kinds of well told seagoing expeditions. This ranks only slightly behind the outstanding "In the Heart of the Sea" by the same author, which I read first. The expedition's venture along the unexplored frozen Antarctic coast is my favorite section. ( )

Well, if nothing else, Philbrick sure makes the entire U.S. Ex. Ex. seem like one giant rat's nest of infighting, backbiting, and complete and utter unpleasantness. This is a detailed study of the four-year expedition, focusing in large part on the outfit's commanding officer and his constant feuds with those around him. ( )