words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: womenwhosail

  • Saleboat

    Due to health issues, I must sell my beloved sailboat, a 1979 Gulfstar37. Price negotiable, cash preferred, trades considered. Clear title, good condition, drydocked in Puerto Peñasco MX. 2023 survey, project list, and more photos available. Bookshelf:Romy & JulioDiary of a Reluctant Traveler: 15 months on the road from coast to coast to coastSea Change:…

  • Flight/Fight

    Beware the miserable: they will try to cut you down. It ain’t personal, but it can be painful. Jealousy has been a problem most of my life, both ways. Fortunately, I’m still standing, so I can still learn. Why is that relative hating on me? Oh yeah: envy. Why is that boatyard bozo targeting me?…

  • Boatyard Bitch

    After much grief from various Boatyard Bozos, I created a group of my own: The Boatyard Bitches. Much to my delight, another capitana joined immediately. To paraphrase Sherlock Holmes (via Arthur Conan Doyle), the air of Peñasco is sweeter for my presence. Surfing helps deal with dodos too. When the tide is low and the…

  • Clan Markings

    A bright yellow fish I’d never seen before accompanied my morning swim today. Three inches long and roundish, it may have been attracted by my neon marigold swimsuit. This singular pisces darted around me the entire mile (with my other marine friends), and I was sad to exit the Sea and leave it behind. I…

  • Frightening & Magical

    “There’s something frightening, and magical, about being on the ocean, moving between the heavens and the earth, knowing that you can encounter anything on your journey.” —Lynne Cox, Grayson: a Memoir Anxiety attacked recently, and I finally figured out (it’s hard to think when she’s screaming) that it’s been a year since I left Topolobampo,…

  • Rapunzel

    Seahorses dance with their mates every morning. What kind of world would this be if humans did that too? Here’s an excerpt from “Rapunzel,” courtesy of my forthcoming book, Sea Change: stories & splashes by Shé: Rapunzel rappelled down the tower wall, landed lightly on her feet, and headed west. Her newly shorn hair fluttered…

  • Erin Slade

    The Méxican Navy marching band practices several mornings a week near a local elementary school. I fall into step with the drums on my way back from the swimming hole. They are slowly slowly improving, coalescing into uniform pitches and tones. I admire their tenacity. I, too, have been practicing something difficult, though I used…

  • BellaMar

    “I am myself. I am singular.” —Faerie queen in Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett 30 months in and I’m still surprised that I live on a boat. High and dry at the moment, but still in a sea-going vessel. “Ridiculous!” I laugh. Life is a twisty-turny adventure, that’s for sure. Habibi was recently…

  • Love Story

    Up late last night, working on a book of stories and splashes (art). Who knew that living in a boatyard could be so productive? Shoulda hauled out long ago…  Here’s an excerpt from “Love Story:” Our hands speak another language, independent of the kissing language. Our hands are chatterboxes, always commenting, caressing, caroming from hill…

  • Wild Swimming

    Evidently there’s a name for what I do: wild swimming, though I seem to be wilder than most. I usually swim without other humans; I don’t tow a brightly colored buoy; I meander, depending on the residents in view. Yesterday a big school of 2-3’ silvery stunners circled me in the dappled morning light, and…