‘I didn’t think much about the quiet, empty place’
Photo from the Graham family holiday in Belfast. Photograph: Marcus Graham
In early 1969, my parents booked a holiday: one week in Belfast and one week at a bed and breakfast in Dublin. When we got to our Belfast hotel, The Elsinore, the parking lot was empty, and the only people there were the elderly couple who owned it. I was 12 at the time, so I didn’t really think much about how quiet and empty it was. But every evening, the owners invited our whole family down to the dining room, and we had some great meals. The walls were covered with pictures of JFK and the pope. Since we were a Catholic family, the hosts made a big fuss over us.
A few days after we got home, my dad and I were eating supper in front of the TV when the BBC newsreader announced that a bomb had gone off that morning in downtown Belfast and had pretty much destroyed The Elsinore Hotel – which was believed to be the IRA’s meeting headquarters. My dad jumped up from his chair, shouting “Good God!” and spilled his dinner on the floor. Imagine a single car with English license plates sitting in a parking lot that IRA leaders used every day. I guess we survived because we were a Catholic family with red hair, even though we were English.
Marcus Graham, Florida, US
‘My husband ended up walking barefoot because of his blisters’
Our honeymoon in 2008 was like a Laurel and Hardy sketch – everything was done in silence. We weren’t speaking to each other because my new husband got so drunk at the wedding that we couldn’t do our first dance. Then everything else seemed to go wrong. On the way to the airport, our car broke down, so we had to rent one. When we finally got to the resort, they told us our accommodation was two miles outside of town and there was no public transport or taxis because it was a religious feast day.
We walked uphill in the blazing sun, and one of the wheels fell off my suitcase along the way. My husband ended up walking barefoot because of his blisters. When we arrived, the resort restaurant had already closed for the day, so we had to eat frozen pizza from the shop. My husband said we could have eaten the pizza box and it probably would have tasted better. Still, we’re still married 18 years later.
Fiona Irwin, 52, Hull, England
‘The water was red from my blood’
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Tim Halliday (right) and his saviour. Photograph: Guardian Community
About 20 years ago, I went to Fiji. I can’t swim, and I’m scared of going in water deeper than my knees. But my friend, who’s an experienced surfer, was really looking forward to this part of the trip. The weather was so hot that going in the water seemed like a good idea, and since it was only a degree or two cooler than the air, I actually started to enjoy it. Then my friend and I rented kayaks. We went out to sea, staying close to the shore, and I had my lifejacket, goggles, and snorkel ready. It was genuinely fun.
My friend got excited about something called a “reef break” and wanted to get a closer look. The water got rougher, and it became harder to control my kayak. My friend was getting farther away. I shouted to him. At first, I couldn’t hear his reply, which made me even more panicked. Then I heard him say, “Ride the wave!” I saw him get on top of a huge wave, and it carried him back to shore. I turned and saw a wave above my head. A second later, I was underwater – no kayak, no lifejacket, no snorkel. I was kicking my legs and waving my arms. My foot hit something that felt solid but painful – coral. I pushed up, cutting my foot, but I got my head above water and could breathe again. Disoriented, I looked around, and the water was red from the blood from my foot. That’s when the shark fins appeared, and I thought… this is it. I don’t know how many there were – maybe three, four, ten, or a million.
Then there was a noise, aSomething hit my back—a surfboard. A hand pulled me onto it. I lay there, completely exhausted, and the surfer paddled us back to shore, where my friend was waiting in shock. The guy who saved me was a local from the island who had seen I was in trouble. My friend said something about the sharks, and he laughed and said, “They won’t kill you. They might bite you or take a nibble.” We walked back to our beach hut, bandaged my foot, and went for a few beers.
— Tim Halliday, 47, Madrid, Spain
‘I pictured the missile approaching the shore’
Our first day in Ka’anapali was spent snorkeling at Canoe Beach. The next morning, in a hotel courtyard, I pulled two chairs up to a table and set my partner Alison’s purse beside me. Our phones beeped at the same time. My text read: “Emergency Alert. BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.” A wave of cold nausea hit me. I showed Alison, and her face went pale.
When I asked the barista if the hotel had a bomb shelter, she pointed to a sign near the stairwell with a picture of a dancing couple. A woman with a baby stroller rushed past, her face ashen. All around us, people stared at their phones, looking dazed and numb. We decided that huddling in the basement ballroom would only make us more panicked. Halfway to the concierge desk, Alison fainted. I carried her to a chair, and the woman behind the counter offered to call 911. I wondered how island emergency services would prioritize things. When Alison came to, I put my arm around her and asked what she wanted to do. “Take me to the beach. I want to sit near the water.”
We settled onto lounge chairs to watch the waves and the sky. I pictured the missile approaching the shore—a mix of every childhood cartoon and nightmare image of a nuclear explosion I’d ever seen. We called several people on the mainland, but no one answered. I started thinking of myself in the past tense.
A few minutes later, a second text appeared: “Emergency Alert. There is no missile threat or danger to the State of Hawaii. Repeat. False Alarm.” I looked at my toes in the sand and watched the water sparkle over the beach, scattering small rocks and broken shells, erasing footprints. Thirty-eight minutes of my vacation had been stolen, but my souvenir was a glimpse of eternity.
— Benjamin Malay, 56, Seattle, Washington, US
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs for the book Thats when the shark fins appeared your terrifying holidays from natural disasters to missile threats
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What is this book about
Its a collection of true stories about holidays that went horribly wrong Think natural disasters political unrest and wildlife encountersbasically vacations that turned into survival situations
2 Is it a horror novel or nonfiction
Its nonfiction The book is based on reallife travel disasters including accounts of shark attacks tsunamis earthquakes and even being caught in the middle of a missile threat
3 Who wrote it
The book is edited by a team of travel writers and journalists It features multiple authors who either experienced these events or researched them in depth
4 Will this book make me afraid to travel
It might make you more cautious but the goal is to inform and entertain Many stories end with the travelers surviving and learning valuable lessons
5 Whats the shark fins part about
Thats a specific story about a terrifying moment at a beach where sharks appeared Its used as a metaphor for the sudden unexpected danger that can ruin a perfect vacation
IntermediateLevel Questions
6 What kinds of disasters are covered
A wide range natural animalrelated and humancaused
7 Does the book give survival tips or is it just stories
Both Each story includes practical takeaways like what to pack in an emergency kit or how to react during an earthquake Its part thriller part guide
8 Are there any famous incidents mentioned like the 2004 tsunami
Yes The book includes accounts of wellknown disasters alongside lesserknown personal stories from everyday travelers
9 How does the book handle the missile threats part
It describes real situations such as tourists caught in war zones and how they navigated embassy evacuations or shelterinplace orders
10 Is the tone scary or humorous
Its a mix Some stories are grim and harrowing while others
