Customer Reviews

A Mile Down: The True Story of a Disastrous Career at Sea

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Why do men go down to the sea in ships? The power of the ocean has long compelled men to go, hearing in the windy sea a siren offering the secrets of fame, sustenance, fortune, romance. Author David Vann went down to the sea to forge a career, to free himself forever from "the endless treadmill of middle-class labor." To accomplish his dream, Vann commissioned a sleek sailing ship in Turkey and sold educational charters to ancient ports in the Mediterranean Sea. He then embarked on a voyage so riddled with misfortune and danger it could only exist in another man's nightmares -- his ship is hopelessly flawed. But when his boat sinks, "A Mile Down" in the Caribbean, David Vann finds the key to a mystery that has haunted him for many years. "A Mile Down" is more than an adventure story; it is a memoir of discovery and reconciliation written to inspire even confirmed landlubbers. If you read only one book this summer, make that one book "A Mile Down."

Near the end of A Mile Down, an angry charter agent shouts, "I am ashamed of the name David Vann." By then, the reader has arrived at an understanding of Vann that causes the hateful shout to fall on deaf ears. David Vann's memoir puts the reader at his side for two years as he pursues his dream of owning and operating a 90-foot sailboat. From Vann's words and actions, the reader becomes acquainted with a dreamer and a doer. No one is more critical of Vann than Vann himself. Yet, time after time, friends and associates come to his aid, freely giving of time, talent, and money. It is the cumulative sound of these silent voices that drowns out the shout of the charter agent. David Vann is somebody . . . somebody whose dream can be embraced. His craft (the sailboat) goes a mile down in a freak storm, while his craft (as a writer) allows him to go a mile down to discover enough truth about himself to sail again.

I don't know, guys. I read the hype for this book, bought it, and dove in with great expectations. Overall, it is well written but the author's agenda - to blame everyone and anyone but himself for mistake after horrific mistake - overshadowed any merit to the story. It felt a bit like a deposition written in hopes that his former creditors might read it and exonerate him. I found it hard to feel badly for someone who used and abused other peoples' trust and money so that he wouldn't have to get a real job. Poor Mr. Vann!

This is a gripping tale of a dream turned to nightmare with blow by blow accounts of storms, disasters and rescue at sea. As a simple adventure tale it leaves little wanting which explains its popularity.
David's father was a dentist. Tired of looking at yellowing enamel, he built himself a fishing boat, things went wrong with the venture and he ended up taking his life. This happened when David was 13 and left its mark.
David goes to Turkey, falls in love with the idea of owning a huge fancy yacht and deludes himself into thinking he can make this work. But rationalization seems to be a major facet of David's character.
"I've always worked hard, but the idea of the working life has frightened me since childhood. I had nightmares of adults working hard and endlessly at tasks they did not enjoy so they could continue working hard and endlessly at tasks they did not enjoy. There was not purpose or end point. Work so you can keep working. It seemed a proposition that could easily end in suicide. I wanted to escape this. I wanted to free myself from the working world and have time to write. And I wanted adventure. Grendel could never free me, but this boat could."
You might think from this passage that he had some mind-numbing job as a clerk in a big store. But David was a professor of creative writing at Stamford University, who also owned a 48-foot boat on which he gave creative writing courses. In his internal mental dialogue, the rational side of his brain must be a pushover, especially if he can convince himself that taking on locally-built 90-foot steel yacht is somehow going to give him time to write (well it eventually did, but not till after it sank).
David is not only able to delude himself, he is clearly able to draw others into his schemes without having to work to hard at it:
"During these times a curious thing happened: without quite meaning to, I sold loans for the new boat. I was simply telling the story to people who asked, but the story became a kind of spiel as I learned that these people - sometimes even without my asking - were willing to lend me money."
The book goes quickly into everything that went wrong, the rip-offs the shoddy work, and the creation of a 90-foot vessel full of unseen inherent flaws. While this does not hurt the story, it is in a way a shame, because we do not explore enough of the dream. I had to go to David's website and see pictures of the boat before I got a real feel for that. The pictures, which should have been in the book, show you better than any of his descriptions why he fell in love. This vessel was, in its own way a magnificent-looking superyacht and if he could pull it off he would get it for the price of standard 50-footer. When you are a 35-year old dreamer, it would not be hard to fall in love with the idea of being the owner and captain of such a status symbol.
Clearly the work was shoddy, though probably to normal Turkish standards. None-the-less when you see the photos and figure this huge, good looking vessel cost him only $500 tho, he was not ripped off. All the problems he encountered were, one way or another of his own making. He compounds these by trying to push along with a faulty boat to keep to a schedule set by charter commitments. It does not help that he really didn't have any money to start with. The result is a disaster at sea when the hydraulic steering system (which he had not taken the time to inspect) comes detached and the rudder starts to fall apart.
The result was a hairy rescue in a storm, salvage and bankruptcy. This probably should have been the end of the tale, but the boat proved to be impossible to sell so the bankruptcy court reverts ownership to David and he tries again.
On the second attempt, he almost succeeds, he gets to Trinidad, refits and starts to charter, it is a happier section, he gets married, and things go well. In the final part disaster strikes again, the stern splits and the boat sinks. But while this plays out in the book as a freak storm and more bad luck, it is another disaster of his own making. He decides to take this 90-foot steel giant from Trinidad to the Virgin Islands with only his wife as crew. Now, this is not well built superyacht with every gadget, it is a boat that has been built to a corner-cutting budget, with problems, which has already nearly cost both his own life and that of his friends. Furthermore it does not even have an autopilot. Two people might, in optimum conditions, be able to handle it, but there is no margin for error or bad luck. Neither does he bring on board a couple of gallons of underwater epoxy, which, given the history of this boat, should have been an early purchase, He compounds this error of judgment by heading on a direct route, rather than following the islands where he would have had a chance to stop and rest, or get something fixed if needed.
The book is written well, interesting, a good read, and as an adventure story it deserves to succeed. But I only give it three stars because as literature it fails for lack of depth in dealing with the personalities involved. Even David (and the book is written in the first person) seems strangely absent at anything other than a superficial level.
The book ends on a cheerful note. David is building a big new trimaran to charter in the Virgin Islands with some new investors. (The setbacks have not cost him any of his powers of persuasion), but you almost fear for his safety and that of his friends. Has he really learned anything form his experiences? If so we do not get a feel for it here. Maybe if he survives to write the next book we will find out.

and I'm a bit worried to go out on my own sailboat! The way David brings readers along on the journeys is brilliant. I'm looking forward to his next novels making it down to New Zealand.

Last night we watched a very interesting documentary on a ship the Egyptians built to obtain incense from the mysterious land of Punt. A group built a duplicate ship following designs on a tomb, and David Vann was chosen to be the captain on its shake-down crew. The first part of the documentary was slow going, highly repetitive and as a result confusing; immediately after launch, the ship looked like a disaster -- rocking and rolling from side to side despite an enormous amount of ballast -- but once under sail, the ship moved magnificently.

Vann was outspoken about his concerns over the seaworthiness of the replica; he said he had lost a ship in mile deep water and didn't want to do so again. But in the event, he did sail her (motor launch close by), and was enthusiastic about her handling under sail. He said that he would be willing to sail her across an ocean, she handled so well.

It was great fun to see Vann in action, and to remember how much I had enjoyed this book four years ago. As a landlubber, I enjoyed reading about the seafaring aspects and gloried in the writing. It was also interesting to follow some of his steps of self discovery -- few authors are willing to be so open about their personal strengths and weaknesses.

He summarized much of his character in an interview a couple of years ago. He was asked about his propensity to be drawn to certain extremes and dangers.

"Honestly, I think I've just been desperate. I went to sea because I couldn't get a professorship and needed a job, and I tried my non-stop solo circumnavigation to try to move to a bigger publisher. That's the sad truth. I love the sea and boats, too, but would I really have taken all those risks without something else driving me? I have a good professorship now, and I've moved to a bigger publisher without having to do that circumnav, but in the past, I've certainly been willing to sacrifice life and limb for the writing career. I've always wanted to be a writer. I've never really wanted anything else."

Vann succeeds in delivering a well written book on a fascinating subject, and with some deep insights into his own character. I thoroughly enjoyed the rides. I'm very tempted to give the book five stars, but on reflection thought it could have been improved by a bit more empathy for the many people that helped him during his journeys. That's not a fair criticism of the adventure story, of course, but I do think it weakens the strength of the memoir portion.

Robert C. Ross 2010

Criticism of "A Mile Down" seems to focus not on the writing or subject matter, which is universally accepted as excellent and engaging, but on the author himself and his character. This seems odd to me. Hemingway is no less a great author because of his many defects of character.

The book is a great read for anyone - sailor or no. I ate it like candy in a few days. Like others, I wished it would not end. I was inspired by the author's resilience, educated by the mistakes, and horrified by the dark side of human nature it revealed. Anyone who has sailed in a storm will understand.

Of the critics of the author's judgment, it is easy to play armchair second-guesser from the comforts of a stable, warm, dry and probably quietly desperate life. Hindsight is always 20/20, Monday morning quarterback, and all that. What I see in this book is one who, living in a glass house, throws stones at that house, and critics' complaints about the author's character ring of jealousy that they themselves haven't dared to take their best shot at their own houses. So they complain that the author's choice of stone is flawed. Horse hockey.

I deeply identified with the author. I too am a hard worker, a dreamer, a sailor, and one not content to settle for second best. I also am like the author in that I make many mistakes. I think our saving grace is the ability to learn from our experiences and remain afloat, buoyed by optimism and an abiding belief that the exceptional can be acheived.

Of course there are mistakes made. That all the ills that befall David Vann are ultimately his "fault" is without question, since had he chosen to remain safely on shore, his boat would never have sunk with him in it. So is the lesson "stay ashore?" Absolutley not.

The lesson, at least for me, is: adversity is not a reason to hide from your dreams. It is an opportunity to advance them, wiser from the the experience. This book is a fresh parable evincing an age-old truth - that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

There's so much going on in this book. It's a real adventure, as Vann literally risks everything in a struggle to live the life he's chosen and understand why he's chosen it. Haunted by a legacy of unfulfilling work and unfulfillable desire, Vann's story sparks with an electric mixture of compulsion, daring, and obligation. This is a pager turner filled with enormous enthusiasm, tinged with bitterness, and ending in wonder.

Read the book. Whatever merits the survival story had were quickly overshadowed by the blamefest that the author embarked upon. The Moroccans made a lousy boat. Had a lousy secretary. The Germans and all the port people were lousy. The insurance was lousy. The District Attorney was lousy. Need I go on? However if you can get past these never-ending blame games, David Vann has a good story, and writes artfully.

I really enjoyed this book. However, I put it aside for six months because the writing was really poor and was apparently unedited. I ran across a series of sentences without any main clauses, some sentences completely without verbs. Perhaps I have been out of college for too long and this is a new accepted method of writing. This made me have to re-read passages to understand what was written, but this was not much of a setback.

What really annoyed me was the way he blamed every pitfall in his adventure on somebody else. Every interaction David had with another human being, except his wife (for obvious reasons), ended in some degree of strife and resentment. The man who built his boat was constantly bad-mouthed even though he provided a tremendous deal on a beautiful yacht. Then when they departed, David promised to send his last payments just to get out of town safely. Instead of confronting the man to deny payment, he instead sent the man an irate email saying he would not send him another dime.

I have never met this David Vann, but he sounds like a very convincing sort of person but there seems to be nothing behind his handshake. I really really want to like the protagonist of any book I read, but I found myself hoping his adventures would fail and then maybe he would grow up. I guess he hasn't so far, because fools keep handing him money.

I sailed around the world as captain of a 97-foot yacht through 53 countries. I even had some equipment built in Bodrum, Turkey (where I paid in cash AFTER the delivery of the equipment) with good results. I got into hassles with fewer than a dozen people, and none of them were bad enough to be worth writing about. Use a steady gaze, a smile, a firm handshake and live up to your commitments and you will go a long way in life. David Vann never learned this lesson, and he serves as a good example of where the human character crumbles. My message to him is: You're not better than the rest of humankind. Get a job and raise a family, That's where true nobility is.