It's no The Last Wave
Wait, I did that one. Casey should have gone whole hog with the rippers: this is a book about the sea via many (many, many) engagements with surfers mystically ('though also with brute physical consequence) climbing up huge-ass waves. Every other chapter circles 'round scientists, and boat disasters, or cataclysmic events like Lituya Bay. And I gotta say: Lituya Bay freaked me right the hell out. (Google it your own damn self.) I'll also admit that Casey is a smooth, casually-engaging writer. But I really was looking for a lot less shaka and a lot more science; Casey tends, when dealing with the scientists, to throw a couple of their article titles at you, to paraphrase some alarmist ideas, to comment on what they're drinking and note in italics that she doesn't get the science. I wish she'd tried a bit harder to get the science, and maybe gave a little less love to the surfers. (Hey, don't get me wrong: Laird Hamilton's cute as a button, but why read about him and surfdudes when you could check out the very fine doc Riding Giants
?) William Langewiesche's superior The Outlaw Sea
is thinner, and more concerned with piracy and other disasters, yet it does give a brief nod here and there to rogue waves. Still... this is readable, and if you love surfing, crush it, brah.