I am sailing
Author Lauren St John on researching her new novel
How far is too far when it comes to researching a book? That’s the question I asked myself as I slid into a coffinsized berth on a Moody yacht with a complete stranger – a stranger I’d met just hours previously.
There were other things that gave me pause. Details that concerned me far more than: ‘What if they snore?’ Or: ‘What if I snore, or fling an arm around them in my sleep or… worse?’ Questions such as: ‘What if I’m extravagantly ill?’
That, to be truthful, was my principal worry. There’s no sickness like sea sickness.
Still, as I snuggled up to Gabriella Jaime (such was the snugness of our single mattress that I didn’t have a choice), I knew it was too late to turn back now. Literally and metaphorically, that yacht had sailed.
It wasn’t the first time I’d questioned my compulsion to go to the ends of the earth in the name of research. There was that time when I swam with hammerhead and great white sharks in the Galapagos Islands, by mistake, while researching a travel story. Turned out, I’d forgotten to read the itinerary.
Then there was the day I went skydiving in Australia, also by mistake, while researching another story. Despite a fear of heights and a lifetime of considering anyone who leaps out of aircraft to be at least 97 per cent insane, a massive misunderstanding resulted in me somersaulting backwards out of a helicopter at 5,000ft. Don’t. That’s all I’m saying. Just don’t.
Novel research had its challenges too. I drove 1,800km across the American West in winter to research The Glory, a YA novel about an endurance horse race. The low-point was crossing Wind River Canyon, Wyoming (the one in the thriller!) in a blizzard, as jade rapids churned at the bottom of a sheer drop to my left and cliffs spat shale to my right. As the wiper blades battled vainly to beat back the snow, a country song – the kind where, if you play it backwards, you get your wife, truck, and house back – provided an oddly chipper soundtrack.
So, sure, there were downsides to research, but the highlights – riding a palomino mustang up a snowy mountain, or swimming with baby dolphins – not only made the bad/ scary moments worth it, they helped me bring alive the characters and settings in my books when I was back in my study in London.
My new novel, Wave Riders, is about 12-year-old twins, Jess and Jude, who live a dream existence sailing from one exotic destination to the next with their guardian, Gabriel Carter. But, after Gabe vanishes in the Virgin Islands, they’re left alone at sea. A mysterious note reveals that Gabe was taking them to the ends of the earth to keep them safe. Who is hunting the twins, and why? How do you solve a mystery when that mystery is you?
The novel’s plot demanded a level of sailing expertise which I didn’t possess, and a feel for the atmosphere, emotions and physical demands of sailing, which I doubted I’d pick up if I watched any number of sailing DVDS. I had to do the real thing.
Worryingly, my stomach and boats had an unhappy history. With the trauma of a two-hour dolphinwatching excursion on a calm day in Florida still engraved on my mind, I
I’d lie in my sleeping bag and listen to the whining of the wind
started slow with a day-long Royal Yachting Association First Aid Course. Inspired by my certificate, I signed up for a five-day RYA Competent Crew course with Nomad Sailing. Then I hit the sailing shops.
Within days, I’d discovered the arcane but thrilling world of ‘technical’ sailing kit. Keen to be prepared for all eventualities, I invested in sailing gloves, thermals, deck boots, Buffly neck warmers, Musto salopettes (thermal sailing trousers) and an ‘offshore’ jacket.
Crucially, I bought ginger biscuits, crystallized ginger and ‘’Sea-bands,’ acupressure wrist bands made by Boots that can help prevent motion sickness.
In April 2019, I caught a train to Gosport, where Nomad’s 37-foot Moody yacht was moored on the Solent. After a pub dinner with Skipper Paul and my four crewmates, we climbed aboard Nomad 1, where a few things became instantly clear: in such a snug space, character traits, good and bad, are amplified, and teamwork and compromise are essential; when you’re out on the heaving deck, there’s hardly anywhere to hold on to. Back to sharing a cabin with a stranger…
Thankfully, my Spanish roomie, Gabriella, a teacher, was the kindest, funniest, most chilled-out, hardworking crewmate anyone could wish for. Our tiny berth became Jess’s in Wave Riders. Below deck, everything is amplified. At night, I’d lie in my sleeping bag and listen to the whining of the wind, the clanking of the halyard, and the slap-slap of waves against the hull. In my book, Jess does that too.
Thanks to my ‘Sea Bands’ and industrial supplies of ginger, I was never unwell for a moment, not even on the third day when we awoke to Force 6 wind. I imagined we’d ride out the weather in Lymington harbour but we sailed on to East Cowes and Chichester as planned.
Perhaps because their sport is packed with peril, sailors love a good disaster story. Any time they take a coffee break, they’re comparing notes on peril or tragedy on the high seas.
Wave Riders aside, sailing must-reads are: Left for Dead, a nail-bitingly brilliant account of the deadly 1979 Fastnet Race by Peter Ward and Sinead O’brien and A Voyage for Madmen by Peter Nicholls.
Between winching the halyard and furling the jib, clinging to the shrouds and saying silent prayers at the pulpit, I realised how safe my London life had become, and how much I’d missed the physical freedom and adventure I wrote about in my novels. Sailing has adventure in spades. The waves and, frequently, freezing wind and rain are in your face, forcing you to be present in the moment.
When the sun shines, sailing is heart-soaringly exhilarating, but it was on our night sail in powerful winds that I fell in love with it. Standing at the helm in sub-zero temperatures as the yacht crested oilblack waves, was freeing and magical in a way that I hadn’t experienced in years. When I sat down to write Wave Riders during lockdown, that feeling of freedom and sanctuary became my sanctuary as well as my escape.
For me, all books start with a feeling or atmosphere. At the end of our night sailing lesson, as I climbed exhausted but happy into my shared nook beneath the deck, I had my opening line. It all began with a rogue wave…
Wave Riders by Lauren St John (Macmillan Children's Books, £7.99) available now at all good bookshops