Turtles, Truth, and Fiction

It’s amazing how real life sneaks into fiction—sometimes subtly tweaked, other times copied word for word. I’ve blurred reality plenty in my writing, adjusted timelines, changed names, dialled up the drama—but some moments need no embellishment. One story slipped into my novel untouched: the rescue of the turtle.

I was making tea aboard my yacht, looked out the galley window, and saw a Styrofoam float. It sank. Then it resurfaced. Then sank again. That was odd.

I jumped into the dinghy to investigate. As I hauled the float up, a massive loggerhead turtle’s head broke the surface. Startled, it kicked and dove. If I’d held on, it might’ve pulled the dinghy under.

I let go.

I fetched a knife from the yacht, returned to the float when it reappeared, and tied it to the cleat. The turtle thrashed as I cut the rope binding it. First, the lower part, then the upper. It vanished in a single sweep of flippers.

It’s one thing to experience something profound and private. But when you sail solo, no one else sees these things. Writing it into fiction gave that moment permanence. I didn’t just save a turtle. I saved a legacy—and gave it a third life in my story.

–Michael (Dark Fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)