Andrea Bartz returns with her fifth psychological thriller, The Last Ferry Out, a novel that ambitiously weaves together themes of grief, LGBTQ+ identity, and the dark underbelly of expatriate communities. Following her previous success with Reese’s Book Club pick We Were Never Here and other notable works like The Spare Room and The Herd, Bartz ventures into new territory with a story that’s both deeply personal and suspensefully twisted.
A Paradise Built on Secrets
“The Last Ferry Out” centers on Abby, a data scientist whose world shattered four months earlier when her fiancée Eszter died of an allergic reaction on the remote Mexican island of Isla Colel. Driven by an overwhelming need for closure and haunted by Eszter’s final cryptic text—”I need to tell you something”—Abby embarks on a pilgrimage to this tropical paradise that has become her personal purgatory.
Bartz’s depiction of Isla Colel is masterfully atmospheric. The island, once a thriving tourist destination, now exists as a shadow of its former self after Hurricane Diego devastated its infrastructure. With only a twice-weekly ferry connection to the mainland and a dwindling population of locals and expatriates, the setting becomes almost claustrophobic despite its tropical beauty. This isolation serves as both sanctuary and prison for its inhabitants, creating the perfect backdrop for secrets to fester and truths to remain buried.
Character Development: Strength in Diversity, Weakness in Depth
Abby: A Protagonist Wrestling with Identity and Loss
Abby emerges as a compelling protagonist whose journey through grief feels authentically raw. Bartz skillfully portrays the disorienting nature of sudden loss, particularly the way trauma can make someone question everything they thought they knew about their relationship. Abby’s identity as a lesbian woman adds layers to her character, especially in her interactions with Eszter’s disapproving parents and her own estranged family.
However, Abby’s character development occasionally feels inconsistent. Her transformation from a methodical data scientist to someone making increasingly reckless decisions sometimes lacks the psychological grounding that would make these shifts feel organic rather than plot-driven.
The Expatriate Community: A Mixed Bag of Intrigue
The supporting cast of expatriates creates an intriguing ensemble:
- Rita/Petra: The mysterious former business mogul whose reinvention raises questions about identity and authenticity
- Brady: The damaged young Australian whose tragic backstory provides emotional weight
- Amari: The charismatic artist whose relationship with Eszter becomes a source of jealousy and suspicion
- Pedro: The environmental activist whose passion for the island borders on obsession
While each character brings distinct motivations and secrets to the narrative, some feel more like plot devices than fully realized individuals. The revelation of their various deceptions creates compelling twists, but occasionally at the expense of character consistency.
Plot Structure: Ambitious Scope, Uneven Execution
The Mystery Elements
Bartz constructs a multi-layered mystery in “The Last Ferry Out” that goes beyond a simple whodunit. The disappearance of Brady, who claims to know the truth about Eszter’s death, creates immediate tension. However, the novel’s greatest strength lies in its exploration of how grief can distort perception and memory. Abby’s unreliable narration, particularly during her cliff-side hallucination of Eszter, demonstrates Bartz’s understanding of trauma’s psychological impact.
The revelation that Eszter had been secretly working with her father on a hotel development project adds complexity to both character motivations and the central mystery. This subplot effectively explores themes of environmental protection versus economic development, though it occasionally feels disconnected from the more intimate emotional journey.
Pacing and Structure Issues
The novel’s structure, alternating between present-day investigation and flashbacks to Eszter’s time on the island, generally works well. However, the pacing becomes uneven in the middle sections, where the momentum slows as Bartz introduces multiple red herrings and subplot diversions. The climactic sequences on the cliff during the storm are viscerally exciting, but the resolution feels somewhat rushed given the complexity of the setup.
Themes and Social Commentary
LGBTQ+ Representation and Family Dynamics
Bartz handles LGBTQ+ themes with sensitivity and authenticity. The portrayal of Abby and Eszter’s relationship captures both the joy and challenges faced by same-sex couples, particularly the pain of being excluded from traditional family structures. Eszter’s parents’ refusal to acknowledge Abby as family during the funeral arrangements feels painfully realistic, as does Abby’s own complicated relationship with her estranged family.
Environmental and Cultural Colonialism
“The Last Ferry Out” thoughtfully examines the impact of expatriate communities on local environments and cultures. Through Pedro’s character and the hotel development subplot, Bartz explores how well-intentioned outsiders can still perpetuate forms of cultural and environmental colonialism. The ultimate protection of the island’s endangered bird species serves as both plot resolution and thematic statement about conservation versus development.
Writing Style and Technical Craft
Atmospheric Prose
Bartz excels at creating atmosphere, particularly in her descriptions of the island’s dual nature as both paradise and prison. Her prose effectively captures the oppressive humidity, the beauty of bioluminescent bays, and the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped on a small island with potentially dangerous people.
Dialogue and Voice
The dialogue generally feels natural, though occasionally some characters’ voices blend together. Abby’s internal monologue is particularly strong, capturing the scattered, obsessive quality of someone processing grief and trauma.
Comparing to Previous Works and Genre Expectations
Compared to Bartz’s previous novels, The Last Ferry Out feels more ambitious in scope but less tightly controlled. We Were Never Here benefited from a more focused narrative, while this novel’s multiple plot threads and larger cast sometimes dilute the psychological intensity that has become Bartz’s trademark.
Readers familiar with similar works like Lucy Foley’s The Guest List or Ruth Ware’s The Turn of the Key will find familiar elements: an isolated setting, unreliable narrators, and secrets within a close-knit group. However, Bartz’s focus on LGBTQ+ themes and environmental issues gives her work a distinct voice within the domestic thriller genre.
Final Verdict: A Flawed but Engaging Addition to the Genre
The Last Ferry Out succeeds as an exploration of grief, identity, and the lengths people will go to protect what they love. Bartz demonstrates real empathy for her characters’ pain and creates genuinely affecting moments of emotional truth. The island setting is vividly realized, and the environmental themes add depth beyond typical thriller fare.
However, the novel suffers from structural issues and occasional plot contrivances that prevent it from reaching the heights of Bartz’s best work. The resolution, while emotionally satisfying in some respects, relies on coincidences and reveals that feel more convenient than earned. Some readers may find the pacing uneven and certain character motivations unconvincing.
Despite these flaws, The Last Ferry Out offers enough compelling elements—strong LGBTQ+ representation, atmospheric setting, and genuine emotional depth—to satisfy readers looking for a thriller with substance. It’s a book that lingers in memory not for its plot twists but for its exploration of how we process loss and the stories we tell ourselves about the people we love.
- Recommendation: Worth reading for fans of psychological thrillers who appreciate diverse representation and environmental themes, though it may disappoint readers expecting the tight plotting of Bartz’s earlier works.
