essays by shé

bookshelf

Tag: diva

  • Full Throttle

    It happened suddenly. One moment Habibi’s depth-sounder read 19.2 feet, the next moment – at the same time I felt a bump – it read 4. Her draft is 5-6, though the sounder is at least a foot below the water line.  I wrenched the wheel to port and full throttled. After an excruciating half minute…

  • Damsels & Werewolves

    “That doesn’t make any sense,” I tell the director. It’s Budapest 1989, and we’re on the set of Howling V. This is director number two, and I don’t think he’s read the script. “I’m the werewolf,” I point out. He wants me to run screaming down a tunnel under the Danube River, and by this time,…

  • 400 Miles

    I heard them first, the dolphins, blowing out air like men swimming alongside Habibi. The moon wasn’t up yet, and I was motorsailing a cautious four knots while keeping an eye out for shrimpers, tankers, and fishing boats. The Big Dipper was clear above the mast, pointing out north. A dark dolphin shape leaps ten…

  • Eleven

    “Let the child drive, so,” the locals told my mother. She had chartered a horse-drawn gypsy caravan for two weeks in Ireland, even though she was scared of Equus. “Yeah, Mom,” I chimed in. “Let me drive!” I was eleven. Horse-mad. But no, she gripped the reins and struggled through despite high anxiety. Brave woman.…

  • May Day

    When I climb aboard after scraping Habibi’s hull – see you, barnacles! – what to my wondering eyes does appear? A small squat military vessel a few hundred feet off my port bow.  I sit at the rail to catch my breath, and notice that the ten fatigued and armed men on board are not…

  • Stuffed

    I had shoved too much into the day, and now I was paying. I couldn’t find Habibi in the dark. Audrey Kayak was loaded with water and provisions – I’d also shoved too much into her. Bright city lights prevent me from seeing the dimmer solar tiki torches I’d rigged fore and aft when the…

  • Seeds

    It is Semana Santa, the highly celebrated week before Easter. Many party boats are in a hurry to herd vacationers out on the bay. Smart whales departed before the festivities, though dolphins still make an appearance. I tow a small white buoy when I swim, and sometimes wear a red cap, depending on traffic. This…

  • Fire?

    “Fire!” lied the alarm, sending a jolt of adrenaline through me in the wee hours. I leaped out of bed, flung open a sky hatch, and pushed the hush button. “Smoke previously detected,” she explained. I smelled no smoke. I saw no fire. I felt no warmth in the walls or roof. Topside, the solar…

  • Not Done

    I was climbing the swim ladder on the port side after cleaning the hull. (Not completely, never completely – Jesus, Mary and Joseph — just another section, like painting the Golden Gate Bridge.) Off the starboard stern quarter, beyond the boom and solar panels and cockpit, a whale dives under the boat. Where I was…

  • Get Away

    “Get away from me,” I tell the self-righteous woman in front of me, but she doesn’t. She continues screeching about leashes and laws. It is an early winter morning circa 2005, and Emmett and I are ambling around the ‘hood. We usually have it to ourselves at this hour, but not today. I do understand…