There are few writers who can take the facts of an actual event and transform them into a compelling story that captures the mind and the heart. James Raffan is that rare author, proving with Deep Waters that he is a masterful storyteller who has not only penned a story that is by turns harrowing and poignant, but is also a powerful investigative work that sensitively explores the nature of courage, risk and loss. On the morning of June 11, 1978, 27 boys and four leaders from St. John’s School in Ontario set out on a canoeing expedition on Lake Timiskaming. By the end of the day, 12 boys and one leader were dead, with all four canoes overturned and floating aimlessly in the wind. This tragedy, which was first deemed to be an “accident,” was actually, as James Raffan explains, a shocking tale of a school’s survival philosophy gone terribly wrong, unsafe canoes and equipment, and a total lack of emergency preparedness training. Deep Waters is a remarkable story of endurance, courage and unspeakable pain, a book that also explores the nature of risk-taking and the resilience of the human spirit.
Yep. You guessed it. Deep Waters is another book about a "tragedy." Or so we're told from beginning to end, and on the front and back covers.
I don't buy that, though. Tragedies come in two categories for me: the mythic and the disastrous. The Greek Gods tampering with humanity so that incest, cannibalism, destructive wars, and sacrifice become inevitable -- that's tragedy. Volcanoes freezing Roman cities in lava, nuclear bombs incinerating cities in seconds, ovens and gas chambers used for genocide, massive oil spills, earthquakes and floods that leave hundreds of thousands homeless and hungry, these are all tragedies.
But when a couple of dumb ass leaders from a "survival" school don't know what they're doing, paddle out into the middle of a lake without emergency training, proper equipment or a serious reading of the weather situation and thirteen people end up dead, there is no tragedy. There is stupidity, negligence, foolishness and plenty of sadness, but nothing tragic.
At least Raffan blamed the fools in charge of the canoe trip. But he categorized this accident as a tragedy and used that to emotionally blackmail his readers, which pissed me off. Still, he did just enough to make me close the book feeling that real paddlers were honoured for their skills and concern with safety. Crappy paddlers be damned.
I suppose my opposition to the way tragedy is used is a bit cold, maybe a little harsh. What about the families who lost their children, you ask? Again...sad for them, but what can I say? It's not a tragedy to me.
In the wake of this terrible 1978 accident--which claimed the lives of twelve boys and one teacher--I recall that the families were so publicly supportive of the the St. John's School for Boys that not two years later my folks considered sending me there. Later, when I worked in the canoe-tripping field, the Temiskaming accident continued to resonate in the form of safety policies and guidelines.
Raffan's book attempts to do what an inquest never really did: examine how a school culture of risk, hardship and fear as a vehicle for "character" building led to a history of reckless, abusive decisions and near-misses long pre-dating this particular accident. His narrative of the disaster itself chillingly constructs a house of cards which is doomed to fall. Very, very moving.
This was the right mix of fact, context, and analysis. Very rare. This is not a page-turner, but the author keeps it moving and resists tangents. It deals with a topic with which many organizations and individuals struggle: maintaining the balance between challenge, safety, and learning.
This book tells an interesting and important story, but it is poorly written and contains factual errors that call all of the details into question.
As other reviewers here have pointed out, the telling is somewhat chaotic. People are referred to sometimes by first name and at other times by last name. Sometimes people are referred to as though they were introduced previously when they weren’t. Sometimes the same information is repeated a paragraph or two after it was already mentioned. There are an astonishing number of dangling modifiers throughout, too. Surely these should have been caught somewhere along the process of getting this book published. I also fail to understand why American spelling is used to tell this Canadian story written by a Canadian and sold as an e-book on a Canadian platform (Kobo). There are maybe three instances where a word is spelled the Canadian way, but that’s just another example of the poor proofreading work that was done (or not) for this book.
Now to the errors. The author repeatedly refers to the survivors of the canoeing expedition making a makeshift camp “at Whistler’s Point” “on the Ontario shore” and refers to a wooden plaque that was placed there. There is no Whistler’s Point on Lake Timiskaming. And the plaque is on the Quebec side of the lake. I know this because I have been there, I have seen the wooden plaque, it’s on a tree on the Quebec shore. It’s possible that “Whistler’s Point” is an informal name that was used in the SJSO community, but it doesn’t appear on any maps. The author’s repeated reference to the camp and plaque both being on the Ontario side is more puzzling, especially since he says he went there. Perhaps the camp was on the Ontario shore, but the plaque is on the Quebec shore, and the author has placed both on the Ontario side for some reason.
It appears no fact checking was done before this book was published, and that makes it hard to trust anything else in it. At several points the author says that the boys who endured or died in the expedition deserved better (leadership, care, etc). Well, they also deserve a better book.
I had to stop at 16%, and it was a chore reaching that point. The book is obviously well researched but it read more like a textbook than a true life story. I wanted to read about the actual event, not what good place in the 1600 and 1700 hundreds. Background info is many times needed to provide the reader with necessary facts, however, that information can be overdone to the point of boredom which is what I found to be true here. Get a sample of the book which I usually do, but failed to do in this case. I normally greatly enjoy non-fiction, but not in this instance.
The main interest in the book, 13 people capsizing and dying on a school canoe adventure was a small part of the read. Extensive coverage of the origin and people who made the school , could have have been much shorter, and the drama of the capsizing could have been covered better. It was interesting enough to finish, and would probably make a really great adventure movie.
The writing was often chaotic and hard to follow. The author switches between first and last names when talking about people, which is very confusing in a story with so many players. The story may have been very interesting if it was not bogged down by incompetent storytelling.
I found the first half of the book to be a bit dry, while the second half rushed through details giving less information that I had hoped for. Still, an interesting and harrowing tale nonetheless.
I don't like this book, but I'm not sure why not. The writing is not a factor, at least not directly. Language-wise, it's well written. I think my distaste comes from the author's worldview or "hidden curriculum" so-to-speak. The story (even though it is a real-life event, I still think of it as story) is horrible. Right off the bat you know that the canoeing trip ends with 13 deaths. So the mood is already dark. It stays dark. The ridiculously difficult snow-shoe treks are described to set the stage for hard-core over the top excursions. Corporal punishment and bullying are described. Manipulation is implied. To me, I sense the author is not Christian (probably atheist), and while he plainly lays out the Christian tenets of the school and its leaders, there is an underlying tone suggesting hypocrisy, ridiculing their beliefs. The author may try to be objective in describing the events, but blame and incredulity that events could be allowed to happen creep in. Is he blaming the parents, the pedagogy, their faith, fate? Probably all of the above, to some extent. These critiques still don't explain the bad taste this book leaves with me. Maybe it's a challenging read because I know that this kind of tragedy could happen to me. Not that I'm as reckless with adventures as they are, but because accidents and events can happen that quickly get beyond our control. Lessons can be learned from this story, for sure. But I feel a little bit like I was watching a snuff film while reading it. It just didn't sit well with me. Not many books make me so uncomfortable.
This is little known piece of Canadian history well laid out. I found the descriptions of the lake to be very interesting (i.e. why it wasn't just an ordinary lake and how that contributed). The school's design was also interesting from an education standpoint. Like most out-there concepts it seemed to work wonders for some, had no effect on many, and harmed a few (the school, not the canoe accident).
I did wish that Raffan had included more biographical information on the boys, especially the ones who died. Some of them were still just names on a page by the end and I thought that was a wasted opportunity. Also, when describing the events it wasn't always clear who lived and who died. I understand that some of the details of exactly when and how would have been impossible to know, but some of the descriptions were much more vague than necessary. Particularly when it talked about the men finding the bodies, Raffan never identifies which boys where found where so it got a little confusing.
I liked the book overall and think it would be a good read for anyone interested in Canadian history, boarding schools, canoeing, or outdoor camps/activities. However, I did find it less pointed than I would have liked when it came to the actual disaster.
I enjoyed reading this book that details a canoeing accident involving young boys at a private Christian school in the 1970s. Well, obviously I did not enjoy the subject matter, but Raffan does a detailed research on the founding of the school, its expansion, the types of boys it attracted (not succeeding in public school, troubled, needing structure and discipline), and the family commitment involved in attending the school. I was glad that Raffan included biographies of the boys who witnessed and survived the accident, and that he critically examined who/what was to blame for the accident. The only thing that I didn't like was that he really took a modern-day hindsight approach to the methods of the private school, and didn't really examine the mindset of the 60s-80s so much. I mean, we aren't generally incredulous that people rode in cars without seatbelts back then, because that's just the way it was done, but enough people die and we change the law, and nowadays, it would seem absurd to not wear a seatbelt in a car. Also, I really appreciated a loose end that was tied up in the epilogue, it really ended the book on a great note.
Story of canoe tragedy which occurred in 1978 when 27 boys fro St John's School in Ontario set out on a turn-a-boy-into-a-man outing. Sadly, 13 of the participants died. Book contains far too many names which, though associated with the story, make the reading difficult since they are dropped in and out throughout the book. Sad story all the way around.