Sea monsters exist—and not just the scaly, toothy kind. There’s another terror lurking in the sea, one more dangerous than any gilled creature—the freak wave. As the Japanese are all too painfully aware, giant waves can topple entire cities and snuff out thousands of lives in mere seconds. Whether they are caused by undersea earthquakes or violent storms, freak waves are more prevalent than we think, and they’re getting bigger all the time. Author Susan Casey, a lifelong swimmer, became obsessed with giant waves at about the same time that surfer Laird Hamilton perfected the art of surfing them. Casey started hanging out with Hamilton and other big wave surfers, tagging along as they stalked the world’s giant waves. At the same time, she delved into the science behind the phenomenon, showing up at wave researchers’ meetings and translating their super-technical shop talk into English any reader can understand. It turns out that rogue waves remain one of the great mysteries of the physical world—scientists do not agree on a single cause or explanation for the existence of these freaks of nature. What they do agree on, however, is that the incidence and severity of 50-, 80-, even 100-foot waves is growing in direct relation to the rising temperatures of our planet. Awesome news for surfers, but not so good for the 60 percent of us who live near coasts—or for sailors. Combining high-seas drama, adrenalin-powered pacing and a masterful buildup of suspense, The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean, is one of those happy rarities: a nonfiction book that reads like a thriller.
When a fascination becomes an obsession, things can get a little bit wiggy. That’s how it was for Susan Casey. In 1998, the New York-based journalist watched a BBC documentary about a “Sharkwatch” program on Northern California’s remote Farallon Islands that was revealing some startling new facts about great white sharks. Operating on a shoestring budget, two scientists spent several months each year bunking on the islands while endlessly scanning the surrounding waters for action. Whenever a shark attacked a seal, the biologists used a crane to hoist themselves into an 11-foot boat and motored immediately to the kill site. There, they hovered in the bloodied water shooting video as monster sharks converged on the carcass. Casey was so mesmerized that she decided to join the action. To write The Devil’s Teeth: A True Story of Obsession and Survival Among America’s Great White Sharks, Casey set up shop in a dirty, plumbing-challenged boat anchored just off the islands and shadowed the Sharkwatch guys. Casey’s big hope was to see one of the iconic “Sisters,” the 20-foot females who ruled the waters and inspired awed respect among their human observers. Though the Sisters proved elusive, Casey saw plenty of action from the runty “Rat Pack” sharks (up to 15 feet long, mostly male). But the drama didn’t stop there; the humans on and around the islands—scientists, abalone fishermen, and tour boat operators—clashed over territory, values, and resources, and everyone seemed to have a story validating the presence of ghosts in the ramshackle bunkhouse. Despite the dark themes, Casey’s witty observations and dry humor make this book a rollicking read. 
