PERSISTING IN A QUEST

I AM not into submarines but I do enjoy war movies in which the majority of the plot revolves around a submarine below the ocean's surface. Usually, the plots in such films focus on a small but determined crew of submariners fighting against enemy submarines or submarine-hunter ships, or against other in-house problems like domestic disputes and faulty engines.
Some of my favourite submarine movies are Up Periscope 1959, a World War 2 drama starring James Garner as a navy frogman fighting the Japanese, the 1990 Hunt for Red October and the portrayal of Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Hallmark Channel in 1997.

Seizing the sudden good weather, I had gone to Lahinch to enjoy the beach and thereafter to the pier to look at the number of fishing vessels moored there as well as smaller boats which use it as a launching site for sea fishing and recreational sports. There were lobster pots and fishing nets, and the air was dank and stale. The smell of fish and brine clung to my clothes like an uninvited guest.

So, it was a pleasant surprise when I found myself at Liscannor, a coastal village on the west coast of Ireland, the home of John P. Holland (1841-1914) a single-minded genius, a dreamer, a schoolteacher and an engineer. Most of all, Holland is widely known as the inventor of the modern submarine.
Sadly, some, if not all, geniuses are often not recognised during their life span.

Van Gogh and Vivaldi died penniless; Mozart was laid in an unmarked grave; Socrates was sentenced to death by drinking hemlock; Marie Curie was subjected to a smear campaign by France's Excelsior magazine, and Holland died a poor man with no public recognition of the fact that he had designed and built the first modern submarine. His only reward was the Medal of the Rising Sun, which he received from Japan after its success over the Russian fleet in 1904 to 1905.

What struck me was the visualisation, the insistence and the persistence of a quest.

Holland's first submarine, aptly named the Holland No. 1, saw the light of day in 1877. It was 4.2m long, powered by a primitive 4hp engine and carried one man. When it was brought down to the Passaic River and launched before a big audience, it sank. Someone had forgotten to insert the two screw plugs.

It took 50 years for Holland to be well remembered and it was not until 1951 with the Albacore that submarine design returned to his original vision and managed to exceed the seven-knot underwater speed that the Holland achieved.

The question remains: would someone lose his desire to excel if not in the right environment?

An Internet post reads: "I am a young adult, 22 years with a high IQ. When I was in high school, I was an avid reader. I could concentrate and focus for a long time. I loved it, but going to college changed that. My college focused more on memorisation. I lost the desire to learn. I finished college in May as a pre-medical student. I am trying to get into medical school. I was diagnosed with depression first and bipolar second during my undergraduate years."

From this post, I can deduce that a genius in the making can be impeded by unsupportive circumstances. It is frightening to note that some geniuses, in pursuing their dreams, have actually gone mad when adversity and setbacks plague their souls.

Being a genius is a process. A process of learning, becoming and being one. It is the "at the moment-to-moment" life that is lived, the sacrifices made and the extraordinary resources within and around.

Thomas Edison gave his famous formula for genius as one per cent inspiration and 99 per cent perspiration. Mustering human perseverance can pay off.

At the end of the day, the full-grown genius is like a submarine that is capable of independent operation below the surface of the water.

And that brings me back to John P. Holland.