Tag: essay
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Solstice
When I was twelve or so, Z Budapest invited my mother and me to a winter solstice gathering of her coven. She had a small store in Venice that Mom and I visited occasionally. Z was tall and confident, with short white hair and a welcoming smile. “It would be good to have a nymph…
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Trust
Slap! Slap! Slap! Twenty times the whale slaps her mighty tail on the surface of the sea, and I laugh in wonderment. She is about a mile to the west as Habibi motorsails south, and when she is certain she has my attention (twenty more slaps), she leaps completely out of the water. Evidently heading…
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Depth
The depth-sounder reads 4.3 feet. Habibi’s draft is 4.6. Had we run aground? I was so close to the marina, sailboats only a few yards away. I turn and gun the throttle. Are we moving? The water churns with mud. More throttle. Slowly, slowly, yes. Hallelujah. When I hauled anchor at Isla Isabela, single-handed, without…
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Comfort Zone
“Go simple. Go solo. Go now.” – Audrey Sutherland, Paddling North I wasn’t exactly solo. I was in radio contact with a kindly buddy boat for a lot of the voyage south. But I was definitely single-handing Habibi — the only human on board. And it was great! I knew what to do and when to…
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Super
Audrey Kayak can carry provisions, even when swamped. The first excursion proved quite exciting when we rolled in choppy surf. I fell out and quickly stood and grabbed her nose handle, pulling her to shore. The only other thing that escaped the boat was the water bottle, which I rapidly retrieved. After I caught my breath, Rocinto,…
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Make a Splash
Last Sunday, 500 people swam from the mainland, past Habibi, to Deer Island. The annual migration began early, with a rhythmical splash on the portside. Ever vigilant to different noises, I saw a man freestyling by wearing goggles and towing a small bright orange inflatable. “A swimmer!” I thought. “Neato.” Then a panga motored by…
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Coven of Two
Hallowe’en is my favorite holiday. I love costumes, and roaming around at night. When I was thirteen, I dressed as a headless horseman in my mom’s velvet pants tucked into knee-high boots, with a black turtleneck covering my face. I carried a lit jack o’ lantern and strode the streets with my baby brother, tall…
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Flowers
“Is she pretty?” asked Rod Stewart. I’d just delivered a spray of dendrobium orchids to him from a fan across the room. We were in Wall Street, a Hollywood night spot I frequented to sell flowers. I shrugged. Beauty is subjective. He asked me to fetch her, so I walked back to the other side…
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Godspeed
“Godspeed,” wrote a friend recently, wishing me well on my journey. Upon reflection, I realized that the speed of god is not my speed. It is the speed at which things actually happen, whether I like it or not. Impatience is a strong suit: she runs me ragged and belittles self-care. Why aren’t you heading south already? Loser! I hate…
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Cruisin’
When I was a teenager, I had a Plymouth Valiant with a slant-six engine, which made it good for drag-racing. Four on the floor, baby. But my best friend liked to cruise. Slowly. I drove us all over our hometown of Santa Monica, as well as farther afield: Hollywood, Malibu, East L.A. We checked out…
