I have been waiting for this trip, manipulating my moves to keep me close and available, anxious for the chance to cross another ocean, to experience Tiger again, to learn more about sailing and boat maintenance from the man who instilled in me my addiction to the ocean. As I said goodbye to Mom in … Continue reading Why Hello Again Tiger
We hiked all over that damn island! Bushwhacking with our loyal stray dogs by our side. Two golden labs who found us on the beach and followed us all day. Compared to the rest of the island dogs they were bigger, whiter, furrier and seemingly more civilized. (Except when the young male snatched and crushed … Continue reading Bushwacking Union Island
We were a group of five gringoes standing beside the main road, a strip of narrow, pale pavement, unlined although there were supposedly two lanes. Flexible lanes, determined by the route best to avoid potholes or other cars. Steve, the Kiwi, and Cammie from Luxembourg, both off Proxima Vida, our buddy boat. Chris, one of … Continue reading Barbados By Bus (And Mini-bus)
Today I know what I need. I feel it in my cells. They are thirsty for it, aching for it. To soak it in, to soak in it. I swim to shore. The water is too watery, too salty, too dry and windblown and barren. Today I do not need the sea. The sea is … Continue reading Almond Energy and Rasta Reasoning
Halfway between the Canaries and Barbados, Arak, one of the Polish boys on our crew, asked what the main difference was between childhood on a boat in St. John and childhood on land in Oregon. I thought harder than I usually do before answering questions about our unique childhood. Honestly, we left that lifestyle so … Continue reading Barefoot Freedom
After three weeks of sailing, we motored around the north point of Barbados, out of our familiar and friendly trade winds and into the lee side of the island. I know...what?! Wasn’t I just in Ireland? Blog-ically speaking, yes, and I will fill in the gaps, eventually. I know it’s not quite fair to spoil … Continue reading Barbados, Mon!
Comfort in the creation of a craftswoman.
I want to spend all day in the water. It soothes me. I feel pure, young, innocent. I think of you. I ask you to send me messages through the waves, answers. Can you hear me? Send me a wave. The water is clear, I see straight down to the dust-colored sand. The waves are … Continue reading Hillary
We leaned against the chrome railing overlooking the beach and watched dozens of surfers wobbling to their feet, toppling over, shooting boards at each other through the foam. The waves looked nice again, as they had in the morning, but just the sight of the bright ocean puckered my sunburned eyes and lips. My left … Continue reading Committed to Write
PEAT FIRE ON A WOODEN BOAT * WALKING, AN IRISH PASTIME * CABIN FEVER, TIME TO DRY OUT * All is quiet and dark in the cabin, the others are in bed. Wet clothes hang with high hopes of drying. Spare drops of rain thud on the hatch, which I have cracked to release smoke … Continue reading Ireland is for Walkers
* A DIRTY BIRTHDAY KISS * DRYING OUT AND NAKED PROBLEM SOLVING * SMALL BOAT REFLECTIONS * “Cruising Cork and Kerry.” The title of our portage book. Reading in my head with an Irish accent, I thought it was some whimsical slogan, but learned that it’s just the names of the two southwestern counties of … Continue reading Cruising Cork and Kerry