Hi darlings. I have just been grinding away over here. Fixing leaks, getting a new bimini made, varnishing wood, and doing the last adjustments on my new rig. I am in the Vuda Marina. I can never go back to Denarau after being in this place. It’s a real cruiser zone, none of those cruise ship-tourist folks here. It’s got a skate ramp, saltwater pool, half-priced pizzas, live bands, a yard filled with boats in dugout dirt pits (to protect them from cyclones), palm trees, butterflies, and slow vibes. And if I really need a break from the boat, I can hop a fence and walk the beach to a resort down the way. It looks like I will be departing Fiji in mid-May. If the window is right, I will sail east- I can not believe it, east freaking east- to Tonga to meet up with my friend Holly a.k.a Wind Hippie. If the window is not right, she and I will link up in Vanuatu. I have lots of fires on the horizon that will determine my trajectory from there- I opened my humpback whale project back up and have gathered a team of people in Australia for it, plus I am currently working on securing grants. It also looks like I might be captaining some charters in the Mediterranean in early fall. So stay tuned for news on all that jazz.
In the meantime, I am a part of this really cool event that I wanted to share with y’all. I have been selected as a modern day explorer to speak about my sailing journey at an upcoming Mercado Sagrado online SALON April 15 +16 (PST). I will be sharing videos and stories about how the sea keeps me wide-eyed, honeycombed, and wild, plus there will be a Q&A afterwards! My talk is on April 15th 5-6 PM PST, but the weekend is jam packed with 20 other amazing speakers. Other folks will be talking about; holistic remedies, electromagnetic changes, free energy, consciousness, myths of our Ancient Friend the Sun, non-conformity, natural birthing, contemporary homesteading, Germanic healing, quantum abundance, and more. You can check the program out HERE.
PURCHASE TICKETS : $125 – Using this link to purchase tickets directly supports my voyage (I get 70% of sales)! Also this ticket will give you access to the full weekend of speakers & access to video recordings of each speaker once the event has ended.


THE STARDUST DINER
Here’s a little piece of fiction I wrote yesterday…..
“Sherry I know you’re tired, but can you tell us what happened?” The officer asks me.
I say, “So, it’s 5 AM, the sun hasn’t even popped the sky and I’m behind the counter, singing along to David Bowie “I’m an alligator, I’m a mama papa coming from you,” and dealing with the ching-ching-ching of the cash machine when a baby blue Cadillac pulls up and two people in bunny rabbit masks and grey sweatsuits walk into the dinner. One is fat, the other skinny. You’d have thunk a tornado blew through and split the diner in two ‘cause every head in the diner turns to gawk in true rubberneck fashion. The fat bunny pulls out a shotgun, points it, and yells in a deep smoke-gravel voice, “put your fucking hands up!” The red neon “Open” sign is glowing above the bunnies, it’s light bouncing off the gun.
Before they walked in it had been just a normal, boring slice open my head and hot cake me in the oven kind of day. At midnight I woke up and roller-skated to work. Took me 23 minutes and 15 seconds. I get there, put on my apron and alien antenna headband, then I’m all “Welcome to Stardust Diner, what can I do ya for? Coffee. Donut. What more do you want? Eggs – sunny side up, scrambled, over easy, hard- rock hard, runny- so runny they fall off the plate.”
The dinner itself is small and decorated like outer space. Glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls and ceiling. Planets, aliens, comets, flying saucers dangling. The floor, dark blue with glitter all over it. The usual suspects are all there. Linda May who’s richer than earth and her black cat, Cleopatra, are in the booth in the far corner. Linda May wears diamonds every day and treats the damn cat like it’s a tiny human- always orders it milk, breast warm, in a coffee cup. Rumor has it that Linda May poisoned her husband, mummified him, and shoved him in the basement wall. One of the other regulars paid me $100 bucks to ask Linda May if it was true. So I did, and she just looked at me like she was looking at an asteroid that was falling out of the sky and “hissed.”
Cowboy Mitch is there too, sitting on the third counter stool down from the door. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a big brown hat with a Turkey feather in it, and red snake skin boots. He’s got eyes like mustangs – they ride right into you and gallop your head away down dream dust roads. I can’t look at him for too long without drooling. You know what I mean officer?”
The officer rolls his eyes up. I continue. “Anyway, in the darkest corner of the diner sits old man Billbo. He’s always drunk or stoned and I never know what kind of jack is going to come out of his box. One minute he’s clown-faced, the next he’s devil-horned. You know, the venomous type. Behind the counter it’s just me, and behind me in the kitchen there’s Timo cooking. He’s an Italian man with a cigarette permanently stuck between his lips. From the bunny rabbit’s angle they can’t see Timo but he can see them.
So anyway, I’m staring hard at the glitter floor, trying to escape the jam and jelly of the moment when I notice the oddest thing, the bunny rabbits aren’t wearing any shoes. It’s the middle of winter and their bare feet are bright red. You know what I was wondering when I saw those feet? I was wondering if a toeprint works like a fingerprint? Does it officer?”
The officer says, “Please continue.”
“Anyway, I hear Timo behind me whispering, “Oh Madonna, oh Madonna, Mama Mia, Mama Mia.” Over and over and over again. And out of the corner of my eye I can see that Cleopatra the cat has her back arched, hair porcupined. The skinny bunny points towards Old Man Billbo’s booth and says, “Everybody except the pixie behind the counter get down on the ground and crawl over to that corner.” The skinny bunny has a flower lady voice and obviously I’m that pixie behind the counter.
So that delicious cowboy and Linda May crawl to the corner and sit next to Billbo, whose never looked more sober, and I don’t budge. “Freak out in a moonage daydream oh yea” is still blasting on the radio. The fat bunny looks at me, gun pointed at my face, and says, “Turn that shit off.” I piss my pants as I turn it off. I haven’t pissed myself since first grade officer. You know how embarrassing that is?
Anyway, the fat bunny says, “Who the fuck else is in here. Anybody back in that kitchen?” I don’t dare say a word officer because my mama taught me that if I lie I’ll go to hell when I die, and I could die right then and there by a shotgun wielding bunny rabbit. The fat bunny looks at the skinny bunny and nods his head. The skinny bunny skips back to the kitchen singing “Come out, come out wherever you are.” The skinny bunny comes back from the kitchen, says, “Ain’t nothing back there.” The fat bunny looks at me and says, “Bullshit, who does the cooking round here?”
Before I’m forced to answer all hell breaks loose. The lights go out, I duck down behind the cash register. There’s a loud “Mama Mia” and the sound of sizzling and screaming, the gun is fired, ba-ba-ba-bam-bam. Cleopatra the cat is making lioness noises. I hear Linda May going “my pussy-puss, my pussy-puss.” Boots are stomping, more gun shots. Blood curdling screams. Sizzling. Screaming. Ba-ba-ba-bam. Total mayhem. Then silence.
I wait what feels like eons then crawl back to the kitchen to turn the lights on. I peer out the kitchen window. Me, cowboy Mitch and Cleopatra the cat are the only things still standing. I can’t tell whose dead or alive or what happened for certain only than a frying pan, those snake-skin boots, and shotgun were involved. Honestly It was the most exciting and shocking moment of my life, officer. Felt just like I was in a movie.”
The officer says, “Did you touch anything?“ I’m still wearing my alien antenna headband and it jiggles as I say “No sireee,” I lie and I don’t care if I go to hell over it ‘cause Linda May was deader than winter and I stole her diamond necklace right off her neck, and as soon as I leave this police station I’m heading to the pawn shop ‘cause I’ll be damned if I’m ever gonna work at a diner again.
Great story. It has Chuck Palahniuk vibes but more colorful. I don’t want it to end maybe this is just a chapter.
“The officer says, “Did you touch anything?“ I’m still wearing my alien antenna headband and it jiggles as I say “No sireee,” The prose is so alive that you can’t look away . . . like watching a head-on collision in slow motion except you know how THAT will end up vs Olivia’s short stories.
The collab with Wind Hippy will be iconic . . . looking forward to those videos. Wind Hippy is the prodigy offspring of the cruising legend Martin family. Wind Hippy’s understanding of long-distance cruising is at the DNA level.
The slog to Tonga will be worth it. Clear in at Vavau . . . please record the choirs at the catholic church in Neiafu (music bed background audio to die for . . . or whole video in itself).
The Haapai group like the Tuamotus . . . the king lives on Tongatapu (interview?).
amazing story ( i got to hear in live!) 🙂 🙂 🙂 amazing adventure. stay safe and good vibes to you! xo, annie