essays by shé

Tag: ocean

  • PLN

    Terry Pratchett wrote a series of books about a young witch befriended by a clan of Nac Mac Feegle, strong folk averaging six inches in height. During one adventure, she asks Rob, the Big Man of the clan, if he has a plan. “Oh aye,” he says proudly, and pulls out a scrap of paper…

  • Certified

    I did it: sailed around the Sea of Cortez for five days with four strangers and learned to helm a boat. Smiling. The hardest part was the four strangers. Several were loud and chatty. Distracting. But then Doubt is loud and chatty, so I had to deal with it anyway. There were three written tests,…

  • La Bolsa Roja

    Cabo Pulmo is known as a primo snorkel spot, so early one morning I drove over and set out down the beach. I found a sandy spot to enter and donned my gear, putting land clothes in a brilliant red drawstring knapsack up on a dune. The bay was murky and cool. Every so often…

  • Tolerance

    A not-so-kindly sailor answered my ad for a sailing instructor. His second email was patronizing and disrespectful (if that’s not redundant), which shocked me. I’m always shocked by contempt. It takes awhile to believe it, and then to remember that their behavior has nothing to do with me. It is learned. My mother’s brother once…

  • False Urgency

    “Beware of false urgency,” warned my bank in a scam alert. An excellent reminder. Is it really necessary to visit five stores for six items, three of which I don’t need right now? I strive for efficiency while wearing myself out. What’s the priority? And when does fun come into play, let alone rest? Coolant…

  • Welcome

    “Just don’t do laundry here,” said the apartment dweller. It was dawn, and I was shaking out blankets from the Jetta on a residential side street in Santa Monica, my hometown. I didn’t say, “Of course not. I’m homeless, not stupid.” I also didn’t say, “I am human, like you. This is the best I…

  • 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…

  • Directions

    “Turn left at the field of basil.” “Tom’s house is just past the one with the fake lighthouse in the front yard.” “The surf shop is around the corner from the mini mart with the shaka mural.” Time and again friendly folk have given me detailed directions better than any Google map. Yeah, I take…

  • Baja Boots

    I stopped in San Bartolo to look for a hat. I’d left my Hawaiian lifeguard topper (made in Mexico) on Kaua’i — traveling light. “No sombreros, lo siento,” said the vendor. But what’s this? Boots. Two pair in a plastic bag, leaning against the brick wall. The woman brought me a chair and I tried…

  • Phoenix

    One cannot fly directly from Kaua’i to Baja California Sur, not on a commercial airline, anyway. Instead, I first traveled to the land of my birth, Phoenix. This makes metaphorical sense to me: new start, new life. Sluff off the old and regenerate. Back to the beginning to move onward. Today I’m in La Paz,…