By Lisa Malice, Ph.D.
Vacations are for putting work
aside, kicking back and relaxing, right? For writers, like me and many of you,
it’s a time to flip off the switch in our brains so its creative centers can
recharge, correct?
Well, no. Not by far. My recent sailing
trip with Lou and another couple cruising the beautiful blue Caribbean waters
and islands off the coast of Belize is a testament to how wrong it is to think
that our brains can take a holiday from creative thoughts.
Our trip started out idyllic. Lou
and I flew down to Palencia, a small town on the southern coast of Belize, and
met up with Stefan and Katherine, close friends with whom we sailed the Greek
islands 26 years ago. Together, we spent a short two days enjoying Belizean
cuisine, refreshing drinks by the pool, swimming, and kayaking, before
provisioning our sailboat with local foods and beverages (rum, of course!) and boarding our boat.
Our first night in Palencia, we dined
at the Muna Restaurant & Bar atop our hotel (The Ellysian). A fabulous meal,
starting with conch fritters and a coconut lime mojito, followed by Seafood
Sere, a delectable dish of shrimp, fish and lobster in a creamy coconut chowder.
Our first full day on the water we sailed to Hide-Away Island, one of three mangrove isles in the Pelican Cay ridge of Belize’s 190-mile coral reef system (part of the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef that stretches 625 miles along the central American Caribbean coast). Once we reached our destination, we opted to tie up to a mooring ball for $20 per night, rather than drop anchor. A prudent move with an overnight weather forecast calling for intermittent rain and strong gusty winds and stretching through the next evening. An anchor not properly set on the seafloor will not hold a boat’s position in such weather.
Our 42-foot catamaran was
spacious, comfortable, and had every modern kitchen and bathroom convenience. The
computerized helm and motorized sheets (sea jargon for “ropes”) made sailing so
easy for Lou and Stefan. Altogether, a sailboat
made for taking it easy.
The warm, sunny afternoon we spent
snorkeling in crystal clear water, communing with the inhabitants of a
breath-taking soft coral reef, was sheer mindless fun.
Later that evening, the four of us hopped into our six-person rubber dinghy and motored over to Hide-Away Caye for a sumptuous lobster feast at the local restaurant.
Hide-Away Caye restaurant requires meal pre-order (lobster,
conch, fish) with each reservation.
Why? So,
its owners can dive the local waters for your chosen entrée, of course.
Back on our boat, we battened down the hatches for the stormy night ahead of us.
We stayed put the next day. The
rear deck offered a perfect protection from the wind and rain, so I parked
myself there to read a friend’s ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) for his latest
mystery/thriller.
Late morning, another catamaran approached
the mooring ball just southeast of our position. On the bow (front) of the
boat stood a man and a woman, both waving their arms erratically. It was clear
they had no idea how to properly direct the captain, who was steering the boat
from the bridge towards the mooring ball. As a result, the boat cut to starboard
(right), causing the boat to pass the ball on its port (left)
side.
By some miracle, the odd couple
on the front deck managed to grab the mooring line with the long-shafted hook and
tie it up to a port side cleat. To be clear, the mooring ball should be directly in front
of the boat with its line (rope) connected to both of the catamaran’s
hulls through other lines. No one seemed to know how to correct the situation,
so they just walked away.
A few minutes later, I spotted
four of our new neighbors in their rubber dinghy drifting away from their catamaran
as the lone man sat at the stern (rear of the boat) furiously tried to
start the motor. With each pull of the starter cord, he grew more and more
frustrated, until finally, he gave up. The foursome drifted away from their two
shipmates still on board the catamaran.
What a comedy of
errors! Their first mistake was casting off from the sailboat before the dinghy’s
outboard motor was revved and ready to go. Their second? Putting a guy in
charge of the dinghy who didn’t know how to start the motor. The third and
final strike was not having even one oar in the dinghy to use in an emergency. Luckily
for the feckless foursome, a small fishing boat came to their rescue and towed them
back to their sailboat. The hero, a local fisherman, proceeded to the bow and
corrected the mooring line.
At sunset, our six neighbors
piled into their small dinghy, the boat—with motor running—then cast off and
steered toward Hide-Away Caye Restaurant. The rubber craft rode low in the
water as it plowed through the sea—clearly overloaded. Waves crashed over the
bow to the screams of the dinghy’s female passengers. Water rushed into the
boat at its stern next to the boat’s heavyset skipper. Their path forward is
unlit—they have failed to bring along a light to see their way in the deepening
darkness. Will all six passengers make it safely to the island restaurant and
back?
I woke up early greeted by a beautiful,
warm sunny morning with a soft breeze. Our neighbors’ dinghy was tied up to the
stern of their catamaran, suggesting they all made it back to their sailboat
safely sometime during the dark night.
That’s when two words popped into
my head—What If? What if three couples took off on a sailing trip without
one person who had sufficient knowledge and skills to pull off the trip safely?
The cruise starts out wonderful enough until bad weather rolls in. With the
anchor poorly set, an overnight storm dislodges the sailboat, setting it adrift
until it slams into a reef leaving behind a huge gash in the hull. Water pours
in. Five make it into the dinghy, but in the end, only one person, a woman, survives
the night adrift.
The creative center of my mind
kept running with ideas, visualizing a tense, suspenseful opening chapter (it
opens well into the story), scenes fleshing out characters backstories and
personalities, a general plot with possible twists, reversals, and moments of
heightened danger. I have pages of notes that, now that I’m back home, I’m
eager to incorporate into my story.
Why did my brain jump furiously
into a creative frenzy, when it was supposedly on break? One reason might be my
friend’s thriller primed me for seeing a dark story where I saw one and my mind
ran with it.
But more likely, I think it’s the
influence of a different book, Jane Cleland’s latest, Beat the Bots: A
Writer’s Guide to Surviving and Thriving in the Age of AI, wherein Jane
discusses a variety of creativity tactics that make for original storytelling no
computer could write.
How about you? Have you ever been
struck by a new story idea on vacation when you weren’t really looking for one? How did it come about?
