Blog

THE ROAD BETWEEN FEAR AND FANTASY

I’m driving towards Walvis Bay, wondering what it would be like to be the chief’s fourth wife. Would I be treated like one of his cows, or like a chiefess? Would the dance be mutual, and would he be all animal or soft and gentle? Would the other three wives...

WILD CATS & THE HIMBA CHIEF

WILD CATS I see a sign for wild cats and a lodge. I pull over and bump down a dirt and gravel road. The place is called Eldorado. It’s very Mexican-chic, with flowers everywhere. I ask the receptionist about the cats. A blue tractor towing a metal trailer with seats...

ELEPHANT TRUNKS and SOLITARY SAFARIS

I feel like a stripper when I write to you, so truthful and vulnerable, not just atmospheric and reflective, but what’s really going on in my head. It’s as if I have taken all of my clothes off and you can see way beyond my skin, all the way to...

DUST & ROMANCE

So much has happened in the span of four days that I feel as if years on the vine of time have come and gone. There was romance. There was a world of red boulders covered in petroglyphs painted by ancient men. There was an animal utopia where I got...

SANDPAPER

I arrive back to Walvis Bay all desert-dirty, with my head still soaking in that sci-fi world of acid sunsets, dunes, and ice plants. A desert is an ocean without saltwater, but its rainbow is flashier. Dramatic, colorful, stunning, vast, strange. Is there any part of the ocean that isn’t...

BIG DADDY and THE DEAD MARSH

There are more colors in this desert than there are names for. The colors evolve, twisting, turning, and bending with the sun. There are shadows too. There are always shadows. Plenty. The desert shadows are long and dark, but never wicked. I sit on a hilltop and watch the sunset...

BETWEEN DUST and LIGHT

I’m in the front seat of a 4×4 shuttle bus heading south towards a desert with a fossilized landscape called Sossusvlei. It means Dead End Marsh. The driver is letting me DJ. He particularly likes Billie Eilish and is from a part of Namibia that speaks in a series of...

The Dunes and The Fog Drinkers

The moon is full and there is a winter tilt to the earth. I’m riding a camel named Smoke through an ephemeral river in the desert that looks like a little moon landscape. There isn’t any water in the river, only sand. This entire part of the sphere that I’m...

WHERE THE DUNES MEET THE SEA

I’m in the front seat of a 4×4 with a man named Connie Burger. His daughter Nikki is in the backseat. She’s about my age. Gert, who is helping me repair Juniper, is also back there. Speaking of repairing Juniper, I forgot to tell you that my Hydrovane was making...

NAMIBIA MATCHES MY PINK ENGINE

Everything in Namibia matches my pink engine. The jellyfish. The pink pelican named Lady Gaga that lives on the dock and is the size of a miniature horse. The flamingos. The pink salt lakes. The desert sand that blushes pink at sunset and moves as if by sorcery in swirling...

MOONSHINE and the BROKEN FURLER

I think I have spent 99 percent of this voyage horizontal, under a pile of blankets and a teal down feather sleeping bag named Moonshine that I’ve had since I was 14. Moonshine has seen bears in Alaska with me, swaddled me as I’ve slept on mud, spoon-fed me alien...

THE STATE OF THE WIND

I’m heading west looking for wind. West is also the opposite direction of all the “Caution / Waarskuwing : rocks and shoals” warnings on the chart. I’m not going anywhere fast, I can tell you that much. I feel like a cowgirl on a three legged horse, just inching my...

THE SEA IS A GHOUL

I have been eagerly awaiting dawn. The sun is supposedly up now, but you wouldn’t know it. The sky is muted by a thick white haze. The days out here feel short and the charcoal nights are excruciatingly long. The wind and sea are back up and this sea is...

NAMIBIAN WATERS

I passed the Orange River Mouth. That’s the dividing line between South Africa and Namibia. On my charts there is a long red line drawn from the Orange River. On the south side of the line it says “Provisional Boundary of the Republic of South Africa” and on the north...

I Don’t Want to Be a Ghost on the Skeleton Coast

It’s night and I’m on pins and needles. I’ve got 21 knots of wind and almost a 10-foot sea. Juniper is sliding all over the waves. They are smashing into the sides of the boat and rocking me back and forth. Sometimes the genoa backwinds and the sheet slaps. The...

THE WORLD IS STILL HERE

The world is still here. This is not a dream. I’m back at sea with Harry the garden gnome on Artemis as my buddy boat. I just went up to the bow and a whale looked me dead in the eye. I saw its eye! He was right there, so...

THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

Remember how I said I didn’t want to get on the dark side of a certain captain’s moon? Well I am on the dark side and it’s full of falling rocks and deep craters you can’t climb out of once you fall in. The immigrations officers are on this side...

SAILING IN THE WRONG SEASON

The South African winter storms started early this year and it’s making the sea a cruel place to be. I’ve postponed my departure by a week. The decision came thirty minutes ago. I was meant to leave Saldanha tomorrow morning and head north along the Skeleton Coast towards Namibia. I...

The Math of Being Lost and The Root of a Star

Let’s assume that one day pirates ransack my boat and steal all of my electronics, most of my provisions, and my nice chronometer watch. All I have left onboard are a few cans of corn, a sextant, a chart, and a table of monthly declinations of the sun and altitude...

THE SPACE BETWEEN BREAKING AND LEAVING

The space between breaking and leaving is liminal, and the people that surround me feel surreal. There is a sailor in the marina who looks like he might worship aliens and always wants to show me something onboard, like his batteries and other things I honestly have no interest in...

Shooting the Body and Romancing the Boat

Everything is romantic on a sailboat until something breaks. It’s been a whirlpool of brokenness here in Saldanha Bay, followed by me chanting to sea gods with petals, roots, salt, sage, and spells. I think I might have just made it through to the blinding bright side, where angels sing...