I could not help listening to the talk at the next table, because the orchestra was quiet and the conversation unrestrained; then, too, a nautical phrasing caught my ear and aroused my attention. For I had been a lifelong student of nautical matters. A side glance showed me the speaker, a white-haired, sunburned old fellow in immaculate evening dress. With him at the table in the restaurant were other similarly clad men, evidently of good station in life, and in their answers and comments these men addressed the white-haired man as Commodore. A navy captain, I thought, promoted on retirement. His talk bore it out."Yes, sirree," he said, as he thumped the table mildly. "A good, tight merchant ship, with nothing wrong except what might be ascribed to neglect such as light canvas blown away and ropes cast off the pins, with no signs of fire, leak, or conflict to drive the crew out, with plenty of grub in the stores and plenty of water in the tanks. Yet, there she was, under topsails and topgallant-sails, rolling along before a Biscay sea, and deserted, except that the deck was almost covered with dead rats."

モーガン・ロバートソンが描く本作の真髄は、冷徹なリアリズムとそこから滲み出す不気味さの対比にあります。死んだ鼠に覆われながらも、無傷で彷徨う「穀物船」の姿は、単なる海洋ミステリーの枠を超え、未知なる海を前にした人間の秩序の脆さを雄弁に物語ります。 緻密な船舶知識がもたらす圧倒的な説得力こそ、本作の文学的醍醐味です。論理を拒絶する異常事態が、確かな筆致で「現実」へと変貌する瞬間、読者は理性を揺さぶられるような恐怖を体験するでしょう。秩序が崩壊した後の美しくも凄惨な光景に、魂が震える一冊です。