Author: wildernessofwaves

I have arrived up the Buffalo River in East London. Japie, who runs the Buffalo River Yacht Club, said, “You survived the worst of South Africa’s Wild Coast. We lose a vessel once every 18 months on this stretch of water.” The Shangri-Las are signing on the radio. Behind Japie there is a wooden dinghy...

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I’ve been up since 0300. I’m a nervous wreck. Today I will set sail down the Wild Coast of South Africa from Durban to East London. It’s 278 nautical miles, give or take, and the stretch of water I’m sailing is referred to as “The Black Hole” on account of the number of ships it’s...

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There is a powerboat blasting through the marina, blaring the song “Let Me See Your Tootsie Roll.” I’m still in Durban, waiting on a long enough weather window to get 280 nautical miles farther south. Durban is somewhat of a drag; it’s known as a “gangster's paradise.” There are only a few places that are...

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“Durban Port Control, Durban Port Control, this is sailing vessel Juniper,” I say to the faceless human somewhere in Durban over VHF channel 9. A female voice responds: “This is Durban Port Control, go ahead Juniper.” Me: “I am a sailing vessel at the safe water buoy seeking permission to enter.” Them: “Permission granted.” It’s...

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I’m back out in the blue. Or grey, rather. Grey is the color of this day. Thunder is rumbling off the land, the swell is a sideways rodeo clown, and I can’t for the life of me slow down. I’ve only got 18 knots of wind and I’m moving at 7 to 8 knots with...

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I am stepping onto Juniper after traveling through clouds and time. She looks beautiful beyond the layer of coal dust and the tape residue. It’s ninety degrees and my skin doesn’t fit right anymore. Have I gained weight? I feel like a blob shuffling around on tree trunks. I fetch the key out of the...

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Happy New Year. I hope that 2026 is nothing short of dazzling and that every day looks like the cover of a catalog you'd tear out and tack onto the wall. I am about done dogging around in Arkansas. As I write to you, I am by a lake in Hot Springs where crystals grow...

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I’ve been hiding since I got home. I’ve only seen my family and one or two friends. Why am I hiding? I don’t know. I just really don’t want to be seen by strangers at the moment, and almost everybody feels like a stranger. I have a strong desire not to be known or judged...

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I set sail from California six years, three months, and twenty-six days ago. I can’t believe it. All I set out to do was cross the Pacific ocean to Hawaii, but I’ve been living a nomadic life among the stars and saltwater ever since. I don’t even know how to describe with enough accuracy and...

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“When I was a kid, we used to tie cotton to the leg of a dung beetle and fly them around like a kite,” Norman says to me and Magnus. He’s an Afrikaans man with a pot belly. He’s fluent in Zulu, Afrikaans, and English. He grew up in the bush; making fires, catching fish,...

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