words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: sailing

  • Untied

    Sometimes after swimming in the ocean a surge of emotion rises up: sorrow, anger, joy. Sometimes a mélange. I’ve learned to ride it like a swell, and listen to what it has to say. Gratitude emerged last Sunday: to my mother for taking me to the sea; to my father for teaching me how to…

  • Tea with the Bottom Cleaners

    Initially I hired folks to clean Habibi’s hull so I could learn how to do it. Then, the next month, I wanted to learn how to replace the sacrificial zinc (the anode becomes corroded instead of the propeller shaft). Then I was injured and wanted to keep Lefty Foot clean and dry.  They are friendly,…

  • A Home for the Holidays

    For years I looked for land near the sea, finding nothing from coast to coast to coast. Living on an island wasn’t enough. Little did I know that a sailboat was patiently waiting. She is the second home I’ve bought myself, the first being the cheerful yellow and silver Tiny House on Wheels. But I…

  • Listen Learn Love

    Dolphins again, where I’d just been swimming! So graceful and quiet, arcing through the glassy ocean. Swam distance for the third time this week, each stroke a delight. Today the sun is bright, creating rainbows on the coral heads, one shaped like a heart. Rays stream down to the ocean floor, the reverse of those…

  • My Left Foot

    I once gave myself permission to say anything to anybody at anytime. It has not been rescinded. I also recently granted myself permission to screw up, even big time. As everyone does. My injured foot smashed into the staircase this week and tore open the wound on the sole. To distract myself from the pain,…

  • Branded

    I’ve got it bad. I took a Sharpie to the pale blue hoodie and wrote Habibi’s name on the back, adding silver spritzes to the i’s. Retrieved the freshly washed cotton dresses — one grey, one black — and did it again, adding a red heart to the grey one. Some folks doodle their first…

  • Gratitude

    The bottom of my foot was sliced open Sunday. Badly. It’s healing nicely, but I’m wary of putting any pressure on it. So today, finally, I asked for help. My mother taught me not to, she was stoic. I am too, but I need water, a shower, bananas, and garbage disposal.  Organizing myself to row…

  • The Journey

    Habibi came with a mug that encourages me to enjoy the journey.  I’m not always able to do this. Some days, say, when the engine is leaking saltwater and the cockroaches are jauntily taking over the boat, I say to that cup, Fuck you! Other days, say, when there’s a rainbow or I’ve just met a…

  • Cleaning

    There’s a big difference between cleaning an abode you own versus one you rent. I was cranky and disgusted. A cockroach had leaped out of the tostada bag onto my lap. My bare lap. Then scurried onto the towel I was sitting on, a pretty blue one with fish. I did not want squashed cucaracha on my…

  • Tink

    Habibi has a side-kick, Tinkerbell the dinghy. Tink for short, rhyming with ‘dink’, which is what some folks call their dinghies. She’s a wooden rowboat with oars. “You need a motor,” said Francisco from the guard shack. I was returning with provisions from the big city (Loreto, about 18 highway miles away, population 20K). “I am…