words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: GulfofCalifornia

  • Back Off : Peace

    “I’m not going to let you weasel out of it,” said my date, grabbing my arm and planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. My cheek, because I quickly turned my mouth away from the incoming. Since when is kissing mandatory? Since when is kissing NOT consensual? Since when does anyone have a right to…

  • Dogged

    A few weeks ago, on the way to the grocery store along the train tracks, I was beset by a pack of dogs. Nearby humans were completely uninterested in my safety. I whirled in circles shouting “NO!” palms out, but still one darted in and nipped my calf, twice. Did not break the skin, but…

  • Purging

    Books, people, food. On one end of the spectrum is nourishment, encouragement, fortification, body-building vitamins and minerals. Energy. On the other end is venom. Poison. Toxins. Pollution. In between, closer to the venomous end, are empty calories with no nutritional value. Enervators. Why are we attracted to poisonous people? Well, we may be related to…

  • Let it Be

    The search for an art studio is over. I am able to spread out under my catamaran neighbor, S/V Let it Be. “Poetic,” said the boatyard owner, saying of course I can use the space. His sister is an experimental artist, so he was completely unsurprised by my need to paint. Let It Be’s humans…

  • Support

    “Andale, Reina,” says the boatyard guard, opening the gate. It’s been awhile since I’ve been called Queen. It’s late and hot, and Habibi trembles in the wind. Scary. So I climbed off the boat and descended the ladder to terra firma. Because I can. In the middle of the Sea, I couldn’t, or wouldn’t. I…

  • Lagniappe

    The storm blew me past the busy port of Guaymas, where I’d intended to anchor and check out boatyards, and then San Carlos, several miles north. Next thing I knew I was passing an island in the dark, in high chop and higher winds—30 knots with stronger gusts. The navigational system shows tankers in the…

  • 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…