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The hierarchy of writing-research starts with personal experience. If you have ever cooked a meal, mucked out a stall, driven a car, or fallen out of a tree, you have a wealth of sensory inputs as well as intellectual understanding of those experiences available to use in a story. You know, in the most direct way, what it’s like.
So every personal experience offers the writer material that no other source can match. Many of those experiences can be generalized…if you’ve ever had a concussion (from any cause) you can use the feel–both physical and the mental and emotional effects–for a character’s concussion from other causes.
However, every writer eventually wants to write about something that he or she has not experienced personally–including things for which there’s no next-best-thing reference available (that is, talking to someone who’s done it.) Nobody yet has ridden on an interstellar spaceship. And nobody I know has been sailing on a ship like the one that fits the cultures of Paksworld.
I have of course watched videos of replicas of period sailing ships of various kinds, and have looked at research on the kind I think would work in that world–talking to a naval historian, looking at plans, etc. But although I’ve been on small modern sailboats (not wooden) I have never sailed on a larger-than-small sail-powered vessel. I’ve been in some squalls (not bad ones) on powered, steel vessels (ferries, most notably across the Cook Strait between North Island and South Island in New Zealand, but also from the mainland to Skye in Scotland, and across the mouth of Cheseapeake bay, from Norfolk to the DelMarVa peninsula in the US. The big ferries, I know, do not behave anything like a caraval would.
So I’m forced to rely on multiple accounts by those who have, in the past, been passengers in various kinds of wooden sailing vessels, combining that with my very minimal personal experience. The few times in my life I’ve had motion sickness all involved airplanes in turbulence, when I was already tired. (I’ve been on equally rough flights without a problem, when rested.) But the descriptions of rough passages, of sea-sickness, suggest that my experiences in an airplane are quite similar in sensory feel to those of a small ship in rough seas. Unpredictable motion in all three dimensions–pitch, yaw, and roll.
Is this a hint that someone’s going on a sea voyage? Maybe. If someone does, it would be unrealistic to give them a perfectly smooth voyage. Sea voyages, whether fictional or real, are known for including some unpleasant moments. Or so my research indicates.
Comment by pjm — May 17, 2013 @ 6:29 am
Writing and remembering from my comfortable seat on stable ground,
“But when the breezes blow
I generally go below
And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants …”
Or, from a more recent source
“It was a tewwible storm
The boat wocked fwom side to side …”
Do mariners in Paksworld have a specialised language to the extent that ours do?
Of course some sea voyages are calm. But in some places and seasons a calm sea is a warning of bad weather ahead. And some people don’t get seasick easily while others do. C. S. Forester made a point of Hornblower feeling ill at the beginning of a voyage.
Comment by Chuck — May 17, 2013 @ 7:29 am
The motion sickness I get from amusement rides, rough travel on water, and watching IMAX through bifocals anywhere except the exact middle of the theatre all have in common irregular, nonrythmic multiple-axis motion, such as an airplane ride or a big boat in heavy seas–so I’d say your speculations are spot on. Aggravating factors are insufficient air circulation, close quarters, and lack of a fixed, visible horizon to gaze at for relief. Mental images (sometimes the most innocuous things) can set off the nausea when someone is already trying to cope. My mom once was suffering on a boat trip when someone mentioned peanut butter and jelly, and she flashed on a mental image of the kind you can buy swirled in one jar–and lost the struggle immediately.
Comment by sue — May 17, 2013 @ 8:25 am
I got landsick once,after an overnight crossing.
Comment by GinnyW — May 17, 2013 @ 8:52 am
Herman Melville to the rescue?
My father loved historical reconstructions, and I grew up on the east coast, so I have seen reconstructed sailing vessels from the colonial period. The most striking thing about them is that they are so SMALL. They also have no light inside (at least by our standards). So the smells of people and the cramped conditions would definitely increase the misery of any passengers who tend toward seasickness.
Your comment about experience is significant. My life has been dominated by the fact that I am incredibly near-sighted without glasses, which discovered when I was about 9. The problem went largely unnoticed for almost a year before being properly diagnosed, so I have very vivid memories of the things that I couldn’t do. Also very vivid memories of being told that I would see if I would only pay attention. This problem rarely turns up in fantasy fiction, but it must have been hell for people who were nearsighted before corrective lenses were common.
Comment by Tuppenny — May 17, 2013 @ 3:00 pm
I’ve been through really rough weather and not gotten sick – though while grimly trying to hang on to my bunk while sliding from head to foot (impossible to immobilize oneself during that kind of action) I started to wonder how long I could take it and had the immediate thought that if I kept thinking along those lines I would get sick!
The one time that I was vilely ill I had the lingering remnants of congestion from a head cold. It must have played hob with the middle ear sense of balance.
Comment by Genko — May 17, 2013 @ 6:30 pm
Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever been seasick, or motion sick. I can ride carnival rides that make others turn green. Just have that kind of stomach, or whatever it is. Of course, when I get off of a boat, there is definitely a “sea legs” phenomenon, but it goes away before too long, and it totally doesn’t make me sick. There are people who just do get sick, and it’s not a matter of strength, or will, or anything. Just something in the constitution, I gather.
Comment by Linda — May 17, 2013 @ 8:43 pm
Have you seen the film made of the last voyage of the Charles W. Morgan? I think it was in the 20s … the last whaling ship … now found at Mystic Seaport CT … and I assume that is where I saw the film.
Also a cinerama film of a Swedish (or was it Norwegian) training ship done when I was a kid. I read somewhere that it is now available on DVD.
Usually resistant to motion sickness, I found 12 hours on the North Sea when everyone else was sick was my limit. Somehow Norway to England via sea no longer seems such a good idea. Those Viking must have been very tough dudes.
Comment by Kerry aka Trouble — May 17, 2013 @ 8:49 pm
Chuck’s comments tally with my own experiences sailing. I have been sailing on a 3-masted wooden ship, but it was definitely a schooner, not a caravelle. Schooners are pretty stable, but the smaller a boat is, and the shallower the draft, the more it will get tossed around in rough water. If you’re trying to sail (or even motor) across the chop, the motion goes from a livable up-and-down to a nauseating up-left-down-right-left-up-etc.
As for light below-deck, there isn’t much, but the better ships had glass prisms inset into the upper deck that would spread light into the next level down. That wouldn’t help the holds below, but the interior below-decks wasn’t completely dark. Ventilation on the other hand was non-existant so what a ship carried could be deduced by the aromas soaked up by the wood.
Comment by Richard — May 18, 2013 @ 2:31 am
Kerry,
perhaps you’d like to comment on two suggestions I’ve come across in reading. Firstly, that the force of the wind in your schooner’s sails (when sailing across wind or diagonally upwind) helps limit side-to-side rolling in rough water (compared to what it would be like with sails lowered and using auxiliary motor).
Secondly, that if wanting to go south, a ship will sail faster on a wind from the northwest or northeast than on one from due north (unless perhaps it has just a single primitive square sail). With the corollorary that a schooner rig (or, in the period Elizabeth is interested in, lateen) does best with the wind even further round to the side than is best for square sails.
Comment by Daniel Glover — May 18, 2013 @ 5:32 am
Elizabeth,
You posted earlier about a “sea” voyage. So this is no spoiler–only that you’re still thinking that it “may” make it into the finale. Not having stepped in, much less sailed, anything smaller than a three mast ship I am interested in hearing of others’ experiences.
Comment by elizabeth — May 18, 2013 @ 7:37 am
The sea voyage is almost certainly going to be in the book, though part of it has been moved from one place in the sea to another.
I’ve toured two 18th c. warships (in Boston and in Baltimore), seen a (probably 17th c.) Dutch trader under sail on the Hudson. Years ago took a short sailing course and have sailed very small craft on Texas lakes. Various friends have sailed much more than I have. (And I heard about the “under sail, the rolling is mitigated somewhat by the pressure of wind on sails.”) So I’m familiar with the close quarters below deck on historic ships, the darkness & lack of ventilation, etc.
The POV character for this section is not an experienced sailor and thus will notice only what the novice notices, and fail to understand things that the experienced sailors aboard all understand. For the character, a ship is merely transportation (in the same way that a horse is merely transportation to a tourist taking a trail ride while on vacation.) The character is very competent and independent on land, but ignorance and inexperience induce anxiety, etc. Character is not used to being the one person who doesn’t know what to do.
Comment by Jenn — May 18, 2013 @ 12:39 pm
From your clue the POV character can be narrowed down to everyone short of Alured and maybe Kieri if he remembers anything from his trip over when he was small.
Comment by GinnyW — May 18, 2013 @ 2:40 pm
The sea voyage makes sense in that the root of the trouble seems to be on the other side of the sea, either in Old Aare if we are thinking of the kind of trouble that Andressat’s manuscript in conjunction with Alured’s claim to rule, or in the eastern continent if it is connected to the kidnapping of a (very young Kieri) and the murder of his mother.
And as Jenn points out, the POV characters do not seem have any significant sailing experience among them. Not even a grounded cabin boy in Fox Army, at least so far. Although it is possible that the King of Pargun has undisclosed skills of that kind.
I wonder if feeling helpless and anxious aggravates motion sickness? I personally am acrophobic, but have never had motion sickness (or sailed on an ocean, only lakes). Tension definitely aggravates the acrophobia, which I found out is related to middle ear pressure, as is some motion sickness.
Comment by Richard — May 19, 2013 @ 12:57 am
Jenn,
“unused to being incompetent, dependent and not knowing what to do” would also seem to rule out Andressat (who has had recent experience of that on land), Beclan (ditto), young Prince Camwyn, and now-partially-dependent Stammel.
Stammel seems the least likely person to be on the ship anyway (wouldn’t Dragon just fly them both there?) but would being blind make him more or less vulnerable to seasickness?
Comment by Mollie Marshall — May 19, 2013 @ 11:28 am
I suspect that blindness would make one more vulnerable to seasickness – being unable to focus on a horizon. For me, crossing from the mainland to Orkney during early pregnancy (a notorious sea passage anyway, even in a fairly substantial ferry) started a tendency to seasickness which remains umpteen years later. I can’t see that this would apply here, though.
My previous guess for this character was Dorrin and I’m sticking with that.
Comment by Jenn — May 19, 2013 @ 12:55 pm
Mollie,
Your experience may apply to Arian depending….
Comment by Jenn — May 19, 2013 @ 1:04 pm
GinnyW & Richard,
A new game has been found and posted on the May 2 blog. Enjoy.
Comment by Gareth — May 19, 2013 @ 3:02 pm
Working against the wind isn’t too bad. It’s hardwork and can be quite violent but you don’t roll – you heel a you pitch. What usually gets people is sailing mostly downwind but slightly across the waves. The sails don’t dampen the roll because the wind if from behind, the combination of pitching and rolling together with vertical up and down is highly nausea inducing for most people. Don’t forget the up and down = just rolling is OK add the vertical movement and it’s nasty.
In a bigger ship getting low down near the centre of gravity helps. Having a fixed horizon – look side if you can is hugely helpful because it gives the brain a frame of reference to understand the motion. Lying down with eyes closed isn’t bad either.
Comment by elizabeth — May 19, 2013 @ 11:42 pm
I love the new game…WHY didn’t we think of tossing balls around while on the teeter-totters?
All the sea stuff is finished. I think. Now to deal with a sort of chopped off bit of subplot, then check transitions, get the chapter numbers back in order, and…realsoonnow.
Comment by Richard — May 20, 2013 @ 3:54 am
I could have written that Andressat didn’t have to go aboard a ship to be all at sea.
Teeter-totters – we call them see-saws here:
“See, saw, Marjery Daw,
Johnnie shall have a new master.
He shall have but a penny a day
because he can’t work any faster.”
Comment by patrick — May 20, 2013 @ 12:15 pm
I am motion sensitive perhaps caused by sensitive inner ear. I’m usually the first report local changes in air pressure. I can report that anxiety certainly increases the chances for nausea during active motion. A feeling of control can sharply reduce motion sickness. A novice passenger is likely to have some anxiety and little feeling of control, even in easy seas. In even modest storm, such would be intense. Distraction to other tasks which do not require focused vision helps. Reading is generally counterproductive while listening to a good story is helpful.
Comment by Mollie Marshall — May 20, 2013 @ 1:52 pm
Jenn #16: I thought about Arian, but her experiences when cut off from the Lyonyan taig and in worrying about her role as queen made me hesitate. Why would she be going alone to Aare anyway. Or if Kieri is with her, who’s minding the shop?
Last year we had a 50-page taster of Echoes. I wonder if we’ll get the same this year. 40-page? 30? anything to get us through the next three weeks!
Comment by Eowyn — May 20, 2013 @ 3:49 pm
One thing that I have seen that can bother some novices is the tilt of the boat and the concern that it will roll over. I have rowed a replica Viking ship (we sail when we can, row when we must … the gods tend to give us lots of rowing). She could tilt a LOT before becoming unstable (it was difficult to get her over enough to finish caulking that one strake we missed). The bigger problem for some is the creaking of the boat and/or the drop down when you go over a large wave (up, up, up, DROP!).
I don’t know why this isn’t posting over on LJ. Glad I looked here.
Comment by Karen — May 21, 2013 @ 2:15 am
I feel guilty even mentioning these things if the scene is written to your complete satisfaction, so please feel free to ignore my own experiences of motion sickness.
My father’s family all suffer excruciatingly from motion-sickness due, presumably, to similarly shaped inner ears (my cousin, then a baby just 7 months old, got violently motion sick in the back of our car on a trip on a windy mountain road, which the textbooks then said couldn’t happen because the eye-ear-brain connections that control balance aren’t supposed to begin to be set until babies begin to walk).
Dad liked to challenge nature by going deep-sea fishing. Naturally, he liked to take us kids. My brother got sea-sick; I did not.
Just as sitting in the front seat was the name of the game when trying to avoid car-sickness, keeping your eyes on the horizon (along with motion-sickness pills that exert a drying influence on the sinuses and change the alignment of the inner ear were standard fare at least an hour before we got to the docks).
One fishing trip, though, was particularly bad. While deep-sea fishing on a bright, sunny day for salmon off the Washington coastline, we encountered swells that were up to six-fathoms deep. It was a fairly large boat, as boats that hire themselves out to people looking to make the catch of the day go, but the distance from the top to the bottom of the worst swells was a good 1/10th the entire length of the boat. The captain did his best to minimize the impact on both passengers and boat, but it was enough for my mother to get sick as well (I was the only one to keep a “cast-iron stomach,” though I doubt it would work now that I’ve had a few ear-infections as well as chronic sinusitus).
IOW, as far as I can tell, a number of issues can influence motion-sickness: hereditary factors, the ability to predict coming motions and adapt to those expectations, the degree and evenness of the motion, the general health of an individual, and perhaps even the individual’s expectations (I was quite proud of never getting sick, so I tended to march around quite proudly, enjoying the rough ride, whereas I could see my brother’s shoulders hunch as he swallowed his pills, confident that he would get sick regardless).
I also wanted to ask about the size of the ocean this sea adjoins. The reason for our violent ride was an enormous typhoon on the other side of the Pacific. Given winds of sufficient velocity across a wide enough fetch to generate waves in the right direction (which is information surfers use every day to predict where the best conditions will be along a line of differently angled beaches), rough seas do not need be associated with a storm that can be seen on the horizon.
Comment by Richard — May 21, 2013 @ 2:45 am
Is thinking about Auntie Dorrin aboard ship what inspired the Verrakai children to give the game a try?
Comment by Jenn — May 21, 2013 @ 5:15 am
The Verrakai Children tell me they think that the teeter-totter/see-saw will improve their sea legs and the dodgeball their strength and stamina. I told them they have no proof Auntie Dorrin is going on a sea voyage. The reply came that they don’t need Dorrin to take them on the sea voyage. Um… Elizabeth… it is NOT my fault if these (albeit lovable) brats highjack your novel.
Comment by Karen — May 21, 2013 @ 5:02 pm
Jenn,
I wouldn’t mind reading your own novel about a bunch of loveable brats who think that teeter-totter might improve their sea legs. 😀
In fact, I love reading everyone’s comments so much on this blog that I wish I knew all of you in person. So much talent devoted in admiration to So Much Talent!