Blogger’s note: It was about six years ago that I started blogging on Travis McGee’s adventures. I finished with the 21st story last summer, but decided to keep the conversation going a while longer. Of course, guest blogger Kevin Comer has added a lot, as have all of you who have left comments. I’m continuing on with miscellaneous posts on any topics that might relate to McGee and JDM, such as this post on one of the best of the McGee wannabes. Also, I’d like to note that this is the blog’s 50th post.
A few months ago I wrote about Randy Wayne White and his McGee wannabe Doc Ford. Probably the most popular of the McGee-type heroes, Doc regularly appears on the bestseller lists. Many other authors have tried to play in JDM’s ballpark, as well. Here is another, one of the best.
Geoffrey Norman was (and is) a journalist and his hero is Morgan Hunt—Vietnam vet, convicted murderer, ex-con, and private investigator. The four Morgan Hunt books are Sweetwater Ranch, Blue Chipper, Deep End, and Blue Light. I’m going to write a little about the latter two.
Deep End isn’t the greatest mystery/suspense book ever, but I know of few other novels that ring the Travis McGee changes quite so faithfully. (The only two that might be as good or better are, IMO, White’s Captiva and Ten Thousand Islands.)
The set-up is this: A friend of Hunt’s, an ex-Navy SEAL, is in financial straits and has a seriously ill young son. He is unexpectedly the subject of a destructive Coast Guard inspection of his dive boat. There’s a chance the Coast Guard was tipped that Phil Garvey was smuggling drugs. Which is slander, totally unwarranted, as the guy’s a boy scout, perfectly clean. Hunt and his attorney employer, Nat Semmes, manage to identify the slanderer—a pissed-off dive student of Garvey’s who is suing him. An attorney himself, this guy gets his upbraiding and it costs him dearly.
The first time I read Deep End, back in ’99, I was thinking at this point in the story that this sure isn’t much of an adventure. The hero helps his friend avoid a nasty lawsuit and gets to show up a tin-pot Coast Guard officer. Is that all there is?
But then the tale takes a sharp turn, as Garvey gets pulled into some kind of treasure hunt—a way to fix his money troubles in a big hurry. This scheme turns out to have significant connections to Garvey’s troubles in the first part of the book.
Garvey goes missing and it’s time for Hunt to step up to a bout of big-time sleuthing—including some incredible deep-water dives. The stakes go up considerably and it becomes apparent that Garvey has gotten involved with some dangerous heavy hitters. Hunt is desperate to find and save his friend, and reunite him with his wife and sick kid. You will see a lot of our favorite knight in rusted armor in this first-person narrator. The lengths he goes to in his attempt to help the wife and kid are McGee-like in their generosity and passion. These qualities, and the Florida setting, make it a first-class McGee substitute.
Blue Light, though, isn’t really a McGee-type story. This is a straight P. I. plotline that Trav would never get involved in. But it’s very well written, a compelling read. Oddly enough, this fourth and final tale in the Morgan Hunt series was never published in the US–as far as I can tell–but it was issued in the UK.
In Blue Light—a reference to the look in Stonewall Jackson’s eyes in the midst of battle, or the gaze of any fanatic Southerner—Hunt is sent by Semmes to investigate allegations of rape against a sitting US senator. It’s not at all clear what Semmes’ interest in the case is, but Hunt works for him and begins turning over the rocks. First order of business is to find the woman that the politician supposedly attacked. When he does, Hunt becomes convinced that she’s telling the truth and that the senator is a secret, monstrous predator of young women. Hunt’s detecting across Florida and DC turns up more similar cases.
It turns out that Semmes’ interest in the case derives from his desire to be the special prosecutor of the senator, not his defense counsel. There are many twists and turns, until the final big one—which I won’t spoil here. But at the end I was feeling a little sad, as Hunt talked over the case with his girlfriend. Not because this was a great story. But because this was a series that deserved to keep going after book number four.
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I think that after you read Deep End and Blue Light—and I do recommend hunting them down; Amazon carries used copies, as does Alibris—you’ll agree that Hunt is very much of the McGee lineage and character. More like McGee than most that I’ve come across.
More important than the plots are the moods and temperament of these books. Hunt, like McGee, is not exactly a loner, but a kind of heroic eccentric and iconoclast; it’s his way or the highway. He is a straight P. I., though, not a vague sort of “salvage consultant.” His many-roomed old house out under the live oaks on a meandering stream, built c. 1900 by a sea captain, is no Busted Flush. But it is definitely a character in the book—a fine HQ for Hunt’s adventures. The Panhandle is no Lauderdale, no Bahia Mar, but it is pure Florida nonetheless; a part of the Deep South unlike Trav’s east coast or Doc Ford’s west coast.
Likewise, Nat Semmes is no Meyer. But his intelligence and canniness and deep experience in the law make him a great partner for Hunt. The local gendarme, a former college football star named Tom Pine, is another fine ally. Hunt’s love life is more along the lines of Spenser than McGee. His ladylove is the Cajun woman Jessie Beaudreaux, and she is a regular presence throughout the books. (I hasten to add that she is a more substantial and interesting character than the insufferable Dr. Susan Silverman.) Though Hunt isn’t the passionate editorialist and philosopher that Trav is, he still offers plenty of commentary along the way.
So why are there only four Morgan Hunt books? I speculate that Geoffrey Norman got a four-book contract and the books didn’t sell enough for the US and UK publishers to warrant a contract renewal. In fact, a UK publisher printed the fourth book, while the US publisher bailed after three. If anyone knows otherwise, let me know.
What’s baffling is why Norman hasn’t at least indie-published these fine yarns on Kindle, Smashwords, Kobo, etc., as e-books; the job can be done for a few hundred bucks per title. I’d ask him myself, but I can’t find any way to contact him through his current gig at The Weekly Standard. If anyone knows the guy, and how to contact him, leave me a note in the comments below. I mean, maybe the books would sell well enough to revive the series. After all, the excellent Laurence Shames has indie-published his classic Key West mob satires as e-books. He published a new one last year and has plans for more.
Hey there, Geoffrey Norman, why don’t you get Morgan Hunt back in the game?