Ahoy there! I’m here to start a conversation about Sophie Blackall’s latest picture book —  one that has many of the hallmarks of her previous books (yes, including spectacular seascapes and even a lighthouse) but also breaks new ground — or explores new seas, in this case. And no, the Caldecott committee will not be comparing this book to her previous work, as instructed in the manual, and will also disregard the fact that Blackall has won the Caldecott Award twice before. None of that is relevant. The committee will be looking at Ahoy! with fresh eyes. That’s their duty, which committee members take seriously.

So, let’s dive right into this clever, joyful, funny, expertly constructed, and of course beautifully illustrated book.

One of the things to look for in a book about imaginative play is how seamless the shift is from real life to the world of the imagination — and back again. Blackall accomplishes this brilliantly. The opening setting is a living room (or just a suggestion of one — we mostly see an ocean-colored rug). Here we meet a child gathering items needed for a pretend sea voyage while an adult vacuums. As the child exhorts the parent to join in, we begin to see intimations of the coming seascape: the cat, poking its head under the rug, creates swelling waves; patterned pillows evoke shark fins. (It’s as if — even as the child intentionally constructs a pretend ship out of a box, two chairs, mop-and-broom masts, paper-towel-roll spyglass, etc. — the room itself wants in on the game.) Over a series of three page-turns, we are gradually eased into the world of the imagination: the first spread wholly in the real world; the next spread showing the edge of the rug in one corner, the makeshift ship transformed into a fully rigged multi-masted schooner, so still partly in the real world but clearly departing from it; then with a third spread we’re plunged wholly into the imaginary world, with even the rug now a wavy, splashy ocean. “Anchors... Away!” It feels true to how imaginative play works that it takes several page-turns to get into the imaginary world but only one to abruptly snap us out of it when the real world intrudes, as when the parent’s cell phone rings and, boom!, the two are back in the living room. “Becalmed,” the child laments.

Books about imaginative play can be condescending and overly precious: “Awww, it’s so cute how kids play make-believe!” There’s not a hint of condescension in Blackall’s book, and not only that, she makes it clear that it’s not just kids who like to play. The adults fully buy into the imaginative experience. I love, too, that this book about play is so playful. Check out the sequence with the whale laughing when it blows the ship high out of the water — and then join in with the characters’ reactions — “EEEEE!” “OOOOO!” “OH!” “NO!” “WHOA!” — as the ship somersaults through the air. Check out how much fun child and parent have as they ride the surfboard-like remnant of their ship, saved in the nick of time from circling sharks, pulled to safety by a flock of seagulls.

There are so many details for child readers to pore over and some wonderful “aha” moments for them. Blackall excels at setting the stage for the imaginary play with one-to-one equivalents, such as the vacuum (which, with its long cord and hoses, easily transforms into a giant squid) and the white socks that become seagulls in the seascape, etc. Especially clever is the introduction of the second parent near book’s close: we first meet them as a red-and-white striped lighthouse in the imaginary world. 

What about the art itself? It’s sometimes full of character, sometimes full of drama and action, only sometimes spectacularly gorgeous. Yes, we get majestic seascapes, but they’re not just there to look pretty, to ooh and aah over. The overall impression of the art is sparky and personal and there to tell a story. Which in my opinion is a strong point in the book’s favor. And note Blackall’s meticulous hand-lettered text. It allows her to control volume and emphasis and also to differentiate between speakers. The child’s font is almost always uppercase and bold (appropriate for the ship’s captain); the adult’s lowercase and lighter in color (appropriate for the first mate).

I hope I’ve communicated adequately the book’s sense of play and adventure, its careful construction with expert pacing and use of page-turns, its child appeal. But it might all sound a bit clinical without this next thing. Because what elevates this book above a clever, beautiful book about imaginative play is its heart. In Blackall’s portrayal of the family relationships we see kindness, connection, support, allyship. The love between the three family members is palpable and made explicit. We see the way the first parent thinks carefully about how to get the child back to the imaginary world after the “doldrums” episode. We see characters holding hands out of affection. We see both parents supporting without reservation the child’s immersion in the imaginary world. The book’s penultimate spread says it all: the three family members back in the living room, lying on the rug holding hands, the child in the middle, all happily anticipating the next adventure.

What have I missed? I haven’t even mentioned the hilarious cat! Or how appealing the (ungendered) characters are. I hope to hear, especially those of you who recently chose Ahoy! as one of your mock nominations here on Calling Caldecott.

[Read The Horn Book Magazine review of Ahoy!]