After reading the opening to
this book, in which the author shares the story of his
father’s psychological scars as a result of surviving a
German U-boat attack in 1941, I was struck by the
similarity of my father-in-law’s reticence to talk about
what he experienced when he helped liberate Dachau
concentration camp. It also compelled me to delve deeper
into Off the Deep
End to learn more about a subject that is sometimes
alluded to, but rarely discussed in detail in the many
maritime histories I have read. Equally astonishing is the
fact that while non-fiction has skirted the subject, it
has long been a central theme in literary works such as The Odyssey, Moby Dick, The Old Man and the
Sea, and
The Caine Mutiny.
Within the twenty-three
chapters of this book, Compton examines madness and mental
illness both in the past and the present. He explores a
plethora of phenomena – seasickness, mirages and optical
illusions, and hearing voices – that on the surface don’t
seem to fall under this umbrella, but when explored in
greater depth actually do. And he accomplishes this using
everyday language that any reader will understand, rather
than relying on scientific or medical jargon. Through
first-person accounts or contemporary examples he
showcases mood swings, stress, depression, obsessive
behavior, calenture (feverish delirium and a desire to
throw oneself into the sea), scurvy, psychoneurosis, and
insanity. External factors – warfare, climate, syphilis,
shipwreck, mutiny, piracy, and cannibalism – are also
explored. Compton looks at both the effects on the
sufferers and the impact on the crews. Some historical
examples focus on events aboard HMS Beagle (before
and during Charles Darwin’s voyage) and the whaleship Essex, as well as
such individuals as Christopher Columbus, Captain Bligh,
and Fletcher Christian. The book also examines how changes
in ship technology and the stress of round-the-world
sailing and solo voyages affect sailors.
Rather than end on a dismal
note, Compton elects to show how the sea and sailing can
also help to heal a person’s mind and body. He begins with
the Reverend John Ashley, whose ministry to fishermen led
to the establishment of missions that help sailors around
the world, and progresses to such life-changing seafaring
programs as Outward Bound and Turn to Starboard. One
particularly heartwarming story that he shares resulted
from a twelve-day voyage that helped to alter the
millennium-long divide between two boys, one Israeli and
the other Palestinian.
Some interesting artwork
appears under the chapter titles. The endnotes provide
additional information that doesn’t fit neatly into the
narrative, as well as full bibliographic citations.
Although no list of the organizations mentioned is
included, this information can be found by hunting through
the endnotes. Space was reserved for an index, which was
not included in the e-galley I read.
Readers might wonder whether this
is the best book to read in only a few sittings, but it
never brought me down or left me feeling depressed.
Instead, I experienced a sense of wonder and amazement
that this topic has been ignored in other maritime books.
I also had a few “aha” moments (example: Compton’s
explanation of the Flying
Dutchman). I highly recommend Off the Deep End,
as it is not only a fascinating book but is also one that
helps “to stimulate discussion of these issues and
encourages a broader acceptance of the lows as well as the
highs of life at sea,” which was Compton’s goal in writing
this book. (261)
Review Copyrighted ©2017 Cindy
Vallar
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