Also, there's the matter of actually finding time for the beach. Island life itself is more complicated than it looks from this end of a Jimmy Buffett song. Grocery shopping, for example, can take all day, since you have to visit every mom-and-pop store on the island to find what's on your list. Al's has eggs but no butter; KJ's has butter but no eggs; Yvette's has neither, but there's beautiful Romaine lettuce. Or maybe it's all vice-versa this week.
Other ordinary chores take more time than you'd expect because of heat (weeding requires lots of breaks and water), culture (office hours are only suggestions, so there might be no one to accept your bill payment) or other island realities (geckoes are great bug-catchers at night, but they leave a lot of, um, morning gifts to clean up).
Because there's such a great chance of something screwing up your day, it is that much more important to try to give each day some structure. Set a goal, even if it's only one thing. Make a list, even if only half of it gets done. Structure helps you avoid extreme frustration and lets you really enjoy that beer on the beach once you get to it.
Being a freelance writer is a lot like living on an island. Whole days unhindered by time clocks can be either wonderfully productive, or you can find yourself metaphorically running the extension cord out to the beach and waking with the hangover of knowing you've wasted another one. That's why structure is all-important in this life, too. We have to create on our own the starting time, the mid-morning break, the deadlines and the "team" goals. Otherwise, it's too easy to sleep in, do laundry instead of a rewrite, or use the afternoon to finish that New Yorker article you started over lunch.
So plan it, list it, schedule it and time it. Then reward yourself for sticking at it. Maybe with a pina colada.