Hyman Tuchverderber was born to a Jewish family in Manchester, England. He was just 13 when Germany’s invasion of Poland incited World War II. He and his family survived the devastating 1940 Manchester bombings, which left the Tuchverderbers, like many others, financially strapped. Sixteen-year-old Hyman studied to be a wireless operator in the British Merchant Navy (he was too young for the Royal Navy). This often-dangerous wartime job at sea, on Dutch and Norwegian ships, took the teenager around the world. Shortly after the war (and after his father legally changed Hyman’s name to Harold Derber), the British pound dropped in value, as did Derber’s already meager pay. He turned to smuggling contraband, moving “surplus weapons” in Germany to the Dominican Republic. By the 1960s, his business ventures appeared more legit; he bought a luxury cruise liner that he filled with slot machines, as gambling was permitted in international waters. However, he spent more of that decade facing off against the U.S. government: With the Bay of Pigs invasion stoking tension between Cuba and America, Derber offered to transport Cuban refugees to the U.S. The government, apparently believing he had a hidden agenda, deemed him a national security threat and slapped him with “unclear” criminal and immigration charges. As the 1970s approached, Derber returned to smuggling (this time marijuana), leading to his “invention” of a drug mothership that became a model for drug traffickers.
Tuch’s true story deftly zeroes in on Derber’s life, providing equal focus on his early years, his 1960s wranglings with the U.S. government, and his drug trafficking in the 1970s. The author, who uses an impressive number of sources, makes it abundantly clear when specifics surrounding certain events aren’t entirely clarified. For example, Derber, while he was still with the BMN, fought on Israel’s side during the Arab-Israeli War; after the conflict concluded, he “lingered” in Israel, where his work history was “shrouded in mystery.” Although his entanglement in the drug trade isn’t as significant (in the narrative) as the title suggests, Derber’s life was truly fascinating—he committed various types of fraud and got arrested almost as frequently as he evaded authorities. His story doesn’t always involve law-breaking—Tuch also covers his serious relationship with Sari Lesley, an entertainer on his cruise ship. Sari herself, whose unpublished memoir provided one of Tuch’s sources, was remarkable, harboring such secrets as her real name and her connection to a U.S. agency. This book’s prose is a refreshing blend of detail-oriented writing and more colorful passages: “Without warning, a patrol boat roared through the waves, aiming straight for the Nana. With a sharp twist of the wheel, Derber swerved, barely avoiding a collision. Passengers screamed, clutching the railing as the boat tilted, cold spray hitting their faces.” Photos also appear throughout, including pictures from Derber’s school days in Manchester and some captured moments with Sari.
