essays by shé

bookshelf

Tag: surfing

  • Bay Life

    What’s all that racket? I close the laptop and get up to look. Are the anchorage neighbors working on boat projects again? Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound reverberates through the hull. I open a hatch and peer out. To the south a whale slaps her giant fin on the surface of the bay. Then her compatriot splashes…

  • A New Year

    I arrived on Kaua’i January 1, 2020, and rolled my purple carry-on straight to the beach, after catching a hotel shuttle to Kalapaki. The sea! It had been months since I immersed, and longer since I’d surfed. My swimsuit was in the outside pocket, and I changed under my clothes. Boots off, socks off, body…

  • A Swell Xmas

    A big swell arrived for Xmas, and I had to move to a safer anchorage. I realized this when I found myself looking up at the ocean while securing Audrey on deck. Sweet Jesus! We are outta here!  It’s a tricky thing, hauling anchor while the wind and ocean push you toward shore. I don’t recommend it.…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • 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,…

  • 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…

  • 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…