Mine

Paid the seller, paid the broker, not paying to fix the hull blisters at this expensive marina because the surveyor says it can wait until next year’s haul-out.

Habibi is mine, all mine. No one can evict me. No one can raise the rent. I can paint her inside and out — any color! — and nail things to the walls. If the neighbors are noisy I can sail away.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

I was raised to be polite, to share, to put others first, to be loyal to family, friends, and employers. But now I have a new mantra: to be loyal to me. What does this look like in practice? I get my ass in the ocean and write before checking messages. I play and swim with a creamy wolf-dog before chores. I buy a boat because I want to spend more time in the sea. I say no to the predatory male who puts his foot on Habibi. I say no to people who refuse to answer my questions. I give away all that does not serve me, either with function or beauty.

My time is valuable. I no longer want to fritter it away on unpleasant people or flaky folk. I want to be more discerning.

Soon I will leave this busy dock and head for a mooring ball in the protected laguna. After hurricane season, I will venture out into the Gulf of California, and then, who knows? I hope to be brave enough to live a wilder life.

In 2017, after surfing PV Cove, I sat in the Tiny House and gazed out at the Pacific, drinking tea. “What about a boat?” I mused, eyeing the sailing choreography. Indeed.