Process Talk: Nicola Davies on Ride the Wind

I read Ride the Wind by Nicola Davies in an e-galley, which isn’t the ideal way to read a picture book. Still, even with the limitations of the format, there was something moving and engaging about this book. I enjoyed its depth and scope, and loved how Davies uses the boy’s story to access the albatross’s plight. She also doesn’t shy away from the complexity of human relationships—a representation that’s difficult to pull off in the small container of a picture book. Finally I loved that the child secures his place in his world and finds healing through bearing witness to something larger than himself. So I invited Nicola to tell me more. Here’s the result of our exchange of emails.

[Uma] What was the seed that first planted this story in your mind? What made you decide that this was a project you needed to embrace?

[Nicola] I’ve loved albatrosses all my life. I had a dog eared photo of wandering albatross pairs displaying to each other on my desk or noticeboard for over twenty years. I had wanted to write about them for a long time; I find the idea of their their lives out at sea, witnessing marine phenomena, the giant waves and swells of the Southern ocean, spellbinding. 

When I began to research the book in earnest I was of course aware of the terrible toll that bycatch takes on their populations. But what emerged was a human story too; many of the really big longliners now deploy devices to stop albatrosses getting caught on hooks. But I read that the smaller, family run fishing boats can’t afford it. There are many of these fishing operations on the coast of Chile an area where female albatross tend to outnumber the males (they forage in different areas out of the breeding season). At that time I was writing,  my daughter was travelling in Chile so it helped to concentrate on an area where I knew she was! and when I looked at photographs of the fishing communities and boats on that coast, I knew it would offer an illustrator plenty of lovely material to work with. 

I’ve spent a lot of time in small boats far from land, pitching and rolling in big seas so I have deep respect and huge admiration for fishers who make their living by doing this day in day out, in all weathers. Fishing is still one of the most dangerous and most adventurous of professions. Big industrial fishing boats are doing enormous damage to the worlds oceans, but small boats, fishing for catches that are consumed locally have far less impact. With the right advice these smaller operations can go on fishing sustainably - so thats another reason I chose Javier and his family!

[Uma] Your book does indeed open with the ship pitching and rolling in rough, icy seas. The harsh setting feels as if it reflects the difficulty of young Javier's life. Elsewhere in the book, you show his connection to place through the sighting of the shore from the boat as it returns home, and the pivotal idea that comes from the big wind. Talk about the relationship of your child character with his beautiful, stark surroundings. 

[Nicola] I know a little about the hardships but also about the amazing exhilaration that comes from being in the palm of the ocean. Coming in to a harbour on a small boat, after time out of sight of land is one of the greatest experiences I think a human can have. There is nothing like it. The ocean puts you in your place and coming into harbour shows you what home and belonging really mean.

Javier’s relationship to the ocean is more reflective than that of his male relatives. Grief has left him isolated perhaps and he’s turned to the sea and its creatures and finds a fellowship there. Lives lived dependent on nature can be hard and can engender an odd disconnect from the natural world; I see it in the farmers around me in Wales. They live in the fields every day and yet they are inured to the dead soil they have created, to the hedgerows they destroy and birds they make homeless. They have made nature an enemy, and it becomes the repository for their depression, anger and frustration. But Javier finds solace in the ocean and has a closer, empathic and more healthy relationship to it. 

Schools are children’s first experience of having to live together with large numbers of different humans, so they are a brilliant opportunity for children to learn the skills they need to be good human beings: how to empathise, negotiate, cooperate and then act in the best interests of the community.
— Nicola Davies

[Uma] Javier bears witness to something larger than himself: the dangers posed by human activity to wild seabirds. But in so doing, he takes action born out of empathy—and that in turn becomes a healing force in his own life. What do you hope that young readers will take away from this story?

[Nicola] I’ve written about young people growing up in communities where there is a detrimental or unsustainable relationship with nature. For these young people it would be easy to simply adopt the culture and prejudices they have been raised with. But there are examples around the world of children who see a different way of doing things and who change their communities from the inside out. Javier has a different perspective from that of his father and uncle; he’s going to be an instrument of change. Thats what I want for my readers, for them to become instruments of change. 

[Uma] This is a book about community—building it, seeing it, healing its fractures. How important is that idea of collaboration and community to you? In this time when the earth itself is spinning off kilter from what we have done to it, why does the power of community matter? 

[Nicola] Community is everything. Community is at the centre of what humans are. It is often said that humans are ‘naturally’ competitive and aggressive, that we are a bad species. But that’s not the whole story; if it were we would have died out. We are successful because we cooperate. There are countless studies showing that humans have huge inhibitions about hurting each other…that these must be overcome in order for violence to occur. Caring, kindness and empathy are just as much our “natural” settings. But this is not a story that capitalism wants to tell. “Dog eat dog,” “red in tooth and claw,” “good guys come last.”  Those are the ideas that are promoted to keep us divided and ruled, keep us believing that change is not possible, that our “nature” is cruel and individualistic. To tell stories that offer the alternative and, I think, more factually based version, of our capabilities is highly subversive and very important.

I believe that now the most MOST important things that children need to learn in school are curiosity and community. Children need a desire to find out but teachers don’t need to teach facts, just an insatiable appetite for questions and answers about why the world is as it is. Schools are children’s first experience of having to live together with large numbers of different humans, so they are a brilliant opportunity for children to learn the skills they need to be good human beings: how to empathise, negotiate, cooperate and then act in the best interests of the community. Community is the greatest adaptation of the human species - and unlike other adaptations, like walking on two legs or opposable thumbs, it can change rapidly to accommodate different conditions. Nothing about how we live now is set in stone, we can change everything. That’s the story I want to tell most of all.

[Uma] Nicola, those are words to live by. Thank you so much.

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