Crossing Oceans Disguised as a Boy - an Editorial Review of "Sailing Against the Tide"
- DK Marley
- 5 hours ago
- 6 min read

Book Blurb:
She crossed oceans disguised as a boy.
History forgot her-but now her story demands to be told.
In 1766, Jeanne Baret, a brilliant herbalist from rural France, defied every expectation of her time. Disguised as a boy to escape the restrictions placed on women.
She joins a global expedition led by explorer Louis de Bougainville and her mentor, the botanist Philibert Commerson.
Aboard L'Étoile, Jeanne faces grueling sea voyages, the constant threat of discovery, and the burden of a secret that could cost her everything. But with every plant she gathers and every mile she sails, she proves that courage and intellect know no gender.
Based on the astonishing true story of the first woman to circumnavigate the globe, Jeanne Baret is a sweeping tale of resilience, adventure, and a woman who dared to chart her own course through history.
Book Buy Link: https://geni.us/qo6GX
Author Bio:

Cindy Maynard’s love of history, the natural world, and her insatiable curiosity come through loud and clear in her writing. Her characters come to life leading the reader to imagine what it was like to live in another time and place. Her most recent books, Esperanza’s Way, and Finding the Way, were inspired by her 500-mile trek across northern Spain along the Camino de Santiago. Cindy’s previous work, Soyala: Daughter of the Desert, won the Colorado Authors League award for Western literature, and WILLA Finalist Award, weaves a compelling, dramatic story based on the pre-history of the desert Southwest. Her debut novel, Anastasia's Book of Days, winner of the Marie M. Irvine award for Literary Excellence, is based on the purported diaries of the author's great-great grandmother.
Editorial Review:
Title: Sailing Against the Tide
Author: Cindy Burkart
Rating: 4.0
Cindy Burkart Maynard’s “Sailing Against the Tide: Jeanne Baret, the First Woman to Circumnavigate the Globe” is a masterful work of historical fiction that resurrects one of history’s most remarkable and overlooked figures, Jeanne Baret, an 18th-century French peasant and herb woman from the humble, windswept fields of Burgundy. Webbed deeply into her story is her lover and employer, the botanist Philibert Commerson, whose appointment to a voyage of circumnavigation forces Jeanne to confront an impossible choice. The narrative, told in Jeanne’s first-person voice explores profound themes of class inequality, the painful tension between love and self-preservation, and the extraordinary cost of female agency in a world determined to deny it. Maynard brings these themes into sharp focus through a series of pivotal scenes that reveal just how costly Jeanne’s choices become.
“All the soft-heartedness dropped from his demeanor, and he became the embodiment of unemotional practicality as he had when he consigned Archambaud to Antoinette’s brother, the priest. “He will have your surname, not mine. For the time being he will need
Nourishment from you to get a good start in life. But you must choose between him and me. If you choose to keep him, you can move back to your sister. If you want to continue our life together, the good nuns at the foundling hospital will provide for him.””
This moment, which feels like the emotional bedrock of the novel, strips away any illusion of a fairy-tale romance, exposing the power imbalance at the heart of Jeanne’s life. Her agonizing choice- to give up her child for the sliver of security and purpose that life with Commerson offers, drives the narrative forward, all while cementing her survival instinct and planting the seed of quiet resentment that will eventually redefine their partnership. This sacrifice carries the sense of an emotional debt that colors every subsequent page, making her later disillusionment both tragic and inevitable. It also leaves Jeanne dangerously vulnerable in the harsh world she is about to enter.
That early compromise does more than define her relationship with Commerson. It sets the stage for the dangers she will later face at sea where her disguise and isolation leave her frighteningly exposed.
“The “pool” turned out to be a veritable cesspool of fetid water, fouled by the contents of the livestock pens, rotten food
Scraps, and every form of detritus that could be found on deck. There was no escape…. Their hands grabbed at my body, tore at my clothes, and smeared soot over my face as I hopelessly struggled to climb the rope back up to the deck. I thrashed, as I tried to defend myself… turning to escape the groping hands of the men who pulled me under over and over again until I was sure this would be my last day on earth..”
The earlier sacrifice reveals the emotional cost of Jeanne’s loyalty, but this brutal episode exposes the physical danger that comes with maintaining her secret. It doesn’t feel like just a moment of physical peril but one that is a symbolic public undressing of her carefully constructed identity. The scene also carries the sense of a point of no return, even as the suspicion of the crew solidifies into hostility, forcing Jeanne into a more isolated and defensive position. After such humiliation, Jeanne’s courage seems fated to remain unseen, obscured by suspicion, silence, and the precarious secrecy of her disguise. Maynard, however, does not allow Jeanne’s story to remain defined only by humiliation and danger. In one of the novel’s quietest yet most meaningful moments, recognition finally emerges in an unexpected and deeply symbolic way.
“In his notes, Jossigny described it as a tall, shrubby bush which sprouted oblong, egg-shaped, and rounded leaves sometimes all on an individual plant. Scribbled in the description was the genus name, Baretia bonafidia, faithful Baret, with a note: ‘Its external garb can be deceptive. It resists a simple description, and cannot be identified at a single glance, as it combines attributes not normally found together in one plant.’”
After so many moments in which Jeanne’s labor and sacrifice remain invisible, this small act of acknowledgment carries profound emotional weight. It is the first and only time Jeanne’s contribution is truly acknowledged within the context of her partnership with Commerson. The description of the plant seems to function as a quiet metaphor for Jeanne herself- complex, deceptive in appearance, and defying simple categorization, and feels like a rare moment of validation amidst a life of erasure. For the reader, it serves as a powerful symbol of her hidden legacy. It also quietly prepares the reader for the novel’s conclusion, where she must fight to reclaim her own life and identity.
Maynard’s Jeanne Baret is a triumph of character creation. She is not a perfect heroine but a fully realized human being whose evolution from a naïve peasant girl to a hardened, world-wise woman is the novel’s core. Commerson is equally compelling, portrayed with all his arrogance and brilliance, making him a frustrating yet sympathetic figure whose flaws are as integral to the plot as Jeanne’s strengths. The pacing is masterful, alternating between the claustrophobic tension of shipboard life and the breathtaking wonder of discovery in exotic locales and the word choice is immersive, bringing the sights, sounds, and especially the smells of the 18th century vividly to life. The settings, from the brutal cold of the Strait of Magellan to the sensual paradise of Tahiti, are rendered with such rich detail that they feel like characters in their own right, shaping the narrative and testing the protagonists at every turn.
What makes Maynard’s portrayal of Jeanne particularly compelling is the patience with which she allows her protagonist to grow. Jeanne does not emerge as a hero in a single moment of defiance instead, her strength develops gradually, forged through hardship, sacrifice, and an unrelenting need to survive in a world that consistently denies her autonomy. Each challenge she faces deepens her resolve, and the reader begins to see that her eventual achievements are not acts of sudden bravery, but the culmination of years spent enduring and adapting. Equally impressive is the way the author situates Jeanne’s personal story within the broader intellectual currents of the eighteenth century. The age of exploration and scientific discovery often celebrates the men who sailed across oceans and cataloged the natural world, yet Maynard reminds us that these grand narratives were supported by countless overlooked individuals whose labor made those discoveries possible. The result is a story that never loses sight of the human emotions beneath the historical events. But perhaps the most powerful aspect of the novel is the way it confronts the question of legacy, through experiences that speak to enduring questions about recognition, resilience, and the quiet courage required to challenge the limits imposed by society.
For readers who appreciate historical fiction that combines meticulous research with deeply human storytelling, “Sailing Against the Tide” offers a narrative that is both illuminating and emotionally engaging. More than a story of exploration, it becomes a deeply human portrait of resilience, reminding readers that history’s most extraordinary journeys are often carried by those whose names it nearly forgot.
To have your historical novel editorially reviewed and/or enter the HFC Book of the Year contest, please visit www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com/book-awards/award-submission







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