by Arthur Conan Doyle (2012). Modern edition of a facsimile of Doyle’s diary that he wrote when Doyle, at the time a 3. year medial student, was hired to serve as a ship’s surgeon on a 6 month long whaling expedition out of Peterhead/Scotland in 1880. Describes in evocative detail the beauty and isolation of the arctic, the boredom of months spent on a three master among 56 men, and the excitement of hunting seals and whales. It is obvious that even at this tender age, Doyle was a born writer. For him, this was a very formative journey and his love of adventure and excitement shines through every page. What also comes across, however, is the sheer callousness with which even sensitive and educated people killed animals at the time. Every significant creature he sees – whether rare bird or polar bear that are shot, seals that are clubbed in their 100s and whales that are harpooned – is killed without nary a thought. This lack of compassion rings so brutal to modern sensibilities. Interestingly, he seems to have discussed Darwinism several times with the mean on board. Furthermore, the high-point of the whaling industry had already been surpassed, as whales were becoming rare and the first conservation measures had been passed. The book is lovingly illustrated with several other Doyle stories (including a Sherlock Holmes case), all pertaining to the arctic.