So here ends the Aubrey-Maturin epic saga, though a further book was left incomplete at the time of O'Brian's death. It's a good thing, really. The struggle to find anything original for the pair to do, growing ever more difficult since as far back as book 11, had by this point proved impossible. With the Napoleonic Wars over, reasons for further voyages were also getting contrived. Maturin's drug abuse with no real  consequence was getting a little preposterous. Hence ending on the upbeat note of Aubrey finally gaining his Admiral's flag and sailing off to take up command of a squadron on a ship-of-the-line seems the perfect conclusion.

The ship's cats do not like the thunder storm and invade the Captain's cabin, insisting Maturin comfort them with pettins. Aubrey comes in and has them removed, proving that (if philandering and a bastard child didn't already) Lucky Jack is no saint.

And we're off to Chile - from Gibralter.

It's been a while and I'd forgotten about O'Brian's delicious prose. Delicious prose like ice-cream that's full of flavour and goes down smoothly. Prose that makes a statement. Makes a statement then repeats it, expanding upon it. Prose that really is way harder to imitiate than it looks...

It was a bit of a shock to find Aubrey and Maturin had not only escaped the magically extended 1812 (authors are the gods of their creations and can do anything) but had arrived in 1815 without any apparent intervening time. And they're off to North Africa for political shenanigans and anti-Napoleonic naval action.

There are some surprises here and new destinations, amazing for book 19 of a series that's circum-navigated the globe several times over - this is neither the best nor the worst entry and if you've got this far, surely you both know what to expect and are going to stick it out through the 20th and final book...

This guy's prose! Mwuah! (Kissing fingers noise.)