There’s something about Greenpeace that’s slightly reminiscent of an aging 1960s rock star. Sure, it may still go off on the occasional bender, but on the whole it’s a respectable member of mainstream society. One easily forgets about its rude, radical youth. For fans interested in those gritty early days, Robert Hunter’s The Greenpeace to Amchitka offers the gonzo goods.

In September of 1971, a crazed posse of Vancouver activists, intellectuals, hippies, and draft dodgers rented a dilapidated fishing ship, loaded it up with camera and radio gear, and made the 3,000-kilometre trip to Amchitka Island, Alaska, where the American military was preparing a massive nuclear weapons test. Their mission: to put themselves in harm’s way, to cause a stink, to get their message out in the mainstream media.

Robert Hunter, then a 29-year-old journalist, was a crew member commissioned by Jack McClelland to produce a book-length account of the saga. But after the voyage, when Hunter eventually submitted his manuscript, McClelland suddenly decided he want a book of photos instead. The narrative went into a drawer, where it rested until its chance rediscovery more than 30 years later.

It’s not hard to see why McClelland was taken aback by Hunter’s book. The story is essentially a Kerouac and Kesey-inspired riff on a ‘60’s road trip, as interested in the antics of the Merry Pranksterish protagonists themselves as in the larger issues at hand. It was all, I’m sure, just a little far out for Jack.

But times change, and today Hunter’s tale re-emerges as a compelling document of a unique historical moment, complete with wonderfully jarring period details: the black and white cameras, jigsaw puzzles donated by the United Church, and the stoner interpretations of McLuhan and Tolkien (Hunter compares the crew to Frodo and his fellow Hobbits setting out to neutralize the nuke-like One Ring). There is also the telling fact that the entire crew is male.

The Greenpeace to Amchitka has its flaws, but the innocent bravery that it depicts is still inspiring. Today’s Greenpeace wears sensible spectacles, speaks in a suave European accent, and does a lot of good work as a mainstream NGO. But it’s still a treat, and oddly touching, to read about its first big show, back when it still rocked.