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Their London row house breaks off during a rainstorm, leaving the neighbors without a side wall, and off they go - Father, Mother, Grandmother, Morgan and the baby - to sail the Pacific Ocean and encounter pirates, cannibals, the missing crown jewels, and at last the Queen E II whose smitten captain tows them all home and marries Grandmother in the end. While Father and Morgan cope, Grandmother floats through it all on tonic wine, rum and champagne, flirting with the cannibal chief and posing in the jewels, and Mother breezes about being forgetful and mildly expressing her pleasure in the novelty of it all. Neither woman has a redeeming feature and no one at all is even a colorful stereotype - which might be one reason why - despite a kidnapping, a desert island reunion and a coconut war (all intended to be delightfully dotty - The House That Sailed Away never takes off. (Kirkus Reviews)
