Is a story about travel always a “Daring Enterprise?”

Check out Polti’s 36 Dramatic Situations:

The log line for Daring Enterprise is "The bold leader takes the object from the adversary by overpowering the adversary.” The “takes the object” can be difficult to include in a lot of travel stories. Worse, of course, this kind of story requires an adversary.

Adversaries are something that don’t often exist in ordinary nomadic travels. I suppose we might claim God is out to punish us — that’s the adversary. Things like weather, tides, or broken boat systems aren’t real adversaries. They’re personal failings that create adversarial situations.

Forgetting to check fuel (or propane or drinking water or whatever) makes us (or our stupidity) our adversary. This seems like a workable story arc.

Also, look at The Enigma, "The interrogator poses a problem to the seeker and gives a seeker better ability to reach the seeker's goals.”

The seeker is the humble skipper of the boat, trying to get somewhere. Who’s “The Interrogator?” Is this a kind of Man v. God conflict? The omniscient, omnipresent god asks “What did you forget?” and the man struggles to answer until they realize they don’t have the right size hose clamps and have to jury-rig something. In some cases, god’s part is voiced by crew or perhaps the US Coast Guard radio operator.

There’s a lot of possibility in travel writing. But.

I don’t want to actually live like that. For me, nomadism becomes a string of possibly-interesting anecdotes about bad weather or judgement errors. No real drama.

I’m trying to learn how to pull it into fiction. I’m planning to avoid it in my real life.

As a practical matter, we need to finish stowing the things from our most recent apartment. Then install a replacement Marine Sanitation Device (you might know it as a “toilet.”)

This is — vaguely — an example of Necessity of Sacrificing Loved Ones: “The Hero wrongs the Beloved Victim because of the Necessity for their Sacrifice.” The old MSD’s beautiful bronze pump isn’t working. We’re tired of fooling around trying to keep it working.

We’re going to sacrifice the beloved MSD because it’s just too old. Spare parts can’t be found. Everything has a service life and 37 years seems about long enough. Our boat isn’t a museum piece.