Setting the Scene in Thrillers: The Importance of Location

By Rose Carlyle

One of the great things about modern life is that we have backup in an emergency. Most of us live our whole lives knowing that if something goes wrong, we can call for help. Whether someone’s trying to break into our house, the stove is on fire, or a loved one has fallen off a ladder, expert assistance is only a phone call away. We tend to take these services for granted — until the day they aren’t there.

In my early twenties, I learned to sail, and my new hobby quickly became a passion. I was fortunate to live near the Hauraki Gulf, an idyllic stretch of water in the north of New Zealand. Sprinkled with spectacular islands, the Gulf is one of the world’s finest sailing grounds. 

I might have been content to confine myself to these sheltered waters, but one day, a friend invited me on an expedition to a subantarctic island, three days’ sail south of New Zealand. I was daunted but also enthralled by the prospect of venturing into the Southern Ocean, known for its wild storms, monstrous waves, and icebergs. Despite the hazards, I signed on as a crew member.

After three days of rough but exhilarating sailing, we arrived at Antipodes Island, and I was immediately enchanted. Despite the cold, the island teemed with life. Landing meant negotiating one’s way past a rocky beach populated with belligerent fur seals and then through a noisy colony of erect-crested penguins. Above the shoreline, albatrosses nested in the tussock. Unaccustomed to human visitors, these enormous birds were utterly unafraid of me. The only buildings on the island were a few rough huts built as emergency shelters for shipwreck survivors. Graffiti inside dates back to 1864.

From then on, I was hooked on oceanic expeditions. By the time my husband and I were in our mid-thirties, we’d purchased a yacht and had embarked with our three children on a voyage across the Indian Ocean. 

Occasionally during that voyage, I would be jolted by the thought that we had nothing but our own family’s resources to call on in the event of an emergency. At one point, we anchored at an uninhabited atoll in the Chagos Archipelago. The only other humans we saw during our month-long stay were the crew of a few other yachts who had also sailed to this unique destination. I remember a conversation we had one evening with Michael and Cornelia, a Canadian couple who had sailed here with their children. We sat on the beach watching our children swim when Michael spoke up.

“I heard a sailor broke his ankle on this beach a few years ago,” he said. “He was a solo sailor, too. He had no choice but to dose himself up on painkillers and sail back to the Maldives to get the bone set. It took him three days.”

Michael’s story brought the truth home. We were beyond the reach of civilization. Living on an uninhabited island was the experience of a lifetime, but it was not without its perils.

Fortunately, we did not experience anything so drastic as a broken bone. The nearest we came to an emergency was when Michael’s daughter’s kneecap popped out, and my husband had to push it back into place, something that a doctor would ideally do. 

Why did we choose to sail to such a remote region? Of course, there were risks, but there were also immense rewards. Looking back on our sailing adventures, my children all agree that the Robinson-Crusoe-style month we spent on that uninhabited atoll was the highlight of our voyage. Living in the wilderness gave us a new appreciation for this world. I have never felt so alive.

When I began writing fiction, I wanted to recreate that feeling for my readers. In my first novel, The Girl in the Mirror, the heroine, Iris, finds herself alone on a yacht in the middle of the ocean after her sister disappears overboard. But Iris at least has the skills to steer her craft towards the nearest port. In my second novel, No One Will Know, the heroine, Eve, faces an even more intense wilderness experience. Eve spends several months alone on a remote rocky island, with only wildlife for company. Forced to take shelter in an abandoned lighthouse, and with no opportunity to return to civilization, Eve must learn to rely on her own courage and resourcefulness.

Thrillers are a genre that explores one of the starkest realities of being human: sometimes, other people mean us harm. The stakes are raised when a thriller takes place in an isolated setting. A heroine who faces a life-or-death situation in the wilderness knows no one will aid her. She must fight for her life alone. This situation is surely everybody’s worst nightmare, but that’s why it makes for compelling reading.

Even at her most fierce, nature is beautiful. There is something haunting about a heroine facing mortal danger while surrounded by majestic scenery. I think one of the great mysteries of this world is that our planet seems designed to delight us with its beauty, yet nature is indifferent to whether we live or die. In No One Will Know, Eve is awed by the beauty of her island and the sparkling seas surrounding it, even while she knows she may die there. 

In life, we cannot experience the grandeur of nature at her most raw without taking a few risks. Yet there is one way to experience the wilderness without leaving the safety of one’s armchair, and that is reading. After immersing ourselves in a thriller in which the heroine is far beyond the reach of police, fire, or ambulance, we close the book with a new sense of gratitude for civilization’s safety net.

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