essays by shé

bookshelf

Tag: adventure

  • Underpowered

    “I need help!” I yell in Spanish, and throw a line to Enrique on the fuel dock. But Habibi’s motor craps out and we drift away toward the concrete sea wall. Men line the top of it, to help push her away from what I believe is a certain crash. I’d been trying to leave…

  • No Trouble

    Trouble’s gone. After a week anchored nearby, the blue-striped sailboat was gone when I got up this morning. Huzzah! (Boat names are sometimes quite direct. Best to pay attention.) I contacted another instructor when Anxiety refused to let me sail solo. “Knowing you can sail is different from hoping you can,” she pointed out in the wee…

  • Leap of Faith

    Three nights on the hook. Anchored. A lost security bracelet (gate key) prompts check out from the marina. Sign from god: no more access to hot showers and wifi. Oh no! Am I ready? But maybe I don’t have to feel ready. Maybe I just have to listen.  This has happened before. On Kaua’i, the 4Runner key…

  • Boat Life

    It seemed simple enough. Scrub the rust off the old propane tank and paint it. Then I’ll have two tanks, including the new one I just bought, filled, and installed. Phase one goes well. I lay a blue tarp on the dirt next to Casa Maria restaurant (now closed), spray vinegar on the rust-encrusted metal,…

  • Good Friday

    Red flags all week, the Harbor Master’s way of saying, don’t go out, don’t come in. But this morning I finally spy a yellow flag — yes! — proceed with caution. (No one I know has ever seen any other colors on the pole. Flags are either red or yellow.) I quickly ready Habibi for adventure: covers off the…

  • Solo

    Four foot waves at the narrow mouth of the channel into the marina. The depth sounder seems to be measuring them — oops, five feet — instead of the distance to the ocean floor. Habibi’s draft is six feet and we haven’t run aground, so I’m guessing. I’ve joked that, since she is fiberglass, I’ve…

  • Capitana

    “¿Capitana?” asks Guillermina, the manager of Marina Mazatlán. Are you the Captain? “Sí,” I reply, yes, and she smiles widely. A man comes in the office while I am signing the docking contract. “She is the Captain,” she brags, and he gives me a thumbs-up. Role model! Because I am doing what I am supposed…

  • Gifts

    I finally left the harbor — yahoo! Habibi came through torrential rains and gale force winds just fine! Nothing shifted, nothing broke, the mooring held. The holding tank leaked a little because I’d been working on it and hadn’t tightened the lid enough. But all the hatches stayed battened until I opened them to the…

  • Napping Near the Military

    Returning to the States to sign documents, I pulled off the highway to rest, engaging four-wheel-drive. The great thing about México is that you can follow a dirt road as the whim strikes. Many times they lead to interesting places. Sometimes not. I was tired and anxious, and found a spot behind some boulders and…

  • Bioluminescence

    Camped by Bahía Concepción under a fullish moon, I rinse my hands in the water and sparks fly. Delight! Skimming handfuls of sand across the surface elicits underwater fireworks. Bioluminescence. Years ago in Florida, I noticed the same phenomenon. So I stripped and dove into the Atlantic. Every stroke was a miracle, light streaming from…