Hey -- Well, I'm still trying; haven't given up the ship -- though I do see few rats running by --
There is ballast to throw overboard and provisions that will be needed when I land on the desert island. For example....
For example there is a modest treasure chest and our heroine could possibly go to the culinary school thus ensuring a place on the tourist side of the island doing something she loved -though she fears working for the greasy island chimp, but perhaps eventually opening up her own coconut tree could happen. But the using the treasure chest might sink her ship before she gets to the island. Or not!
She could just take some of the ships library which is lusciously filled with books of every kind and writing utensils of every kind. She would have to part with many, and this, though difficult, is not impossible and our heroine may be able to barter the no longer needed books and artistic supplies for other needed goods.
Our heroine enjoys writing and though she has keel-hauled it for two years it might come around again. Keeping some of the books could be useful as she hones her writing skills. Though she has been told that there is dark place in the middle of the island that is gathering place for hostile's called agents and publishers, a veritable blood bath she has been told for those who might publish her book. Getting in and out of this place alive is possible if she acquires a very hard tortoise shell when she gets to the island and then spends time caring for it so it does not crack and continues to protect her on her journey. However, she has no marketable idea for a book. So all this may be mute.
Our heroine as been told by shipmates that writing or gastronomy are both worthy pursuits that she is quite capable of. Several of the shipmates have fallen under her spell after consuming magical delicacies like macaroni and cheese, though others have fallen at her knees begging for the rack of lamb with fig/rosemary sauce.
One oddity; the ship was carrying a moose in it's hold, odder still was that it could spell words to communicate. The moose was old and had several handi-caps that had made it hard for her to travel on her own, but her mind was still sharp and she tapped out to our heroine that maybe she would be well served by stopping by the local eateries, sampling their particular fare and perhaps, gasp, writing about it. A Food Critic. A Traveling Food Critic! A culinary writer.
Our heroine as been consumed with this idea since hearing it only a few days ago. Unfortunately she has added to her book collection instead of detracting garnering more knowledge about such a quest. But, after a long day of bailing water from the ship, scouting the horizon for a safe landing, asking seagulls & dolphins for direction, fending off sharks and tending to a passenger with a bad case of cabin fever, she is holding this idea in her heart pocket, safe from the wind. She pulls it out at night, when she is looking at the stars, and dreams.
Her mother tells her she should write children's stories and her sister says she should teach. Our heroine thinks that no matter what direction she goes there will always being a dark middle of the jungle to hike into and out of when one wants to succeed.
Luckily, there are others that swim close to the ship, keeping it safe as can be, and
she still has that styling fairy godmother in the mysterious far east who has left packages of cheer floating in the sea for our heroine to hook up and take encouragement from. Though the blue elephant with a yellow ribbon on his head was a trifle difficult to scoop. But he made it, and is now fast friends with Moosie.
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Okay, I know -- that could use a serious re-write -- was just abstractly speaking -- so to speak.
take good care who knows what could happen.
Love
Cyn
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