Every time the sun goes behind a cloud, I realize how cold and colorless the world would be without it. Tahiti is 30 nautical miles away. I can see the outline of it’s shape rising up from the sea and disappearing into the sky. I will sail past it through the evening. Beneath a moon …
MY COCONUT
The sea is blistering and I’m cooling off inside of a memory. I am sitting in the kitchen of the first house that I ever lived in. My sister is there. We are making pom-pom art. Our dad comes home with some VHS tapes and tells us to look out the window. Snow is falling. …
THE MOON IS A SILVER SUN
We hoist anchor at 10:30 a.m. Downwind on a flat lagoon. Bliss. The anchorage near the south pass is hot. Boats and people have exploded like firecrackers along it’s shore. They are waiting for Flower Moon. I think about stopping, even furl the jib, but I have a hard time at anchorages with a lot …
THE THREE GODDESSES OF FATE
Here are more of my musings, ramblings, wanderings. Last night I dreamt that the wind picked up something fierce. 60 knots. When I “woke up” both whisker stays were broken and the whole anchor chain had popped. I had only 10 feet of chain left and nothing tethering me to anything. Juniper had sailed herself …
FEEDING WILD THINGS
I fall asleep not long after dusk and wake while the world is still colorless and the last star has yet to fade. I watch the sun open up it’s golden eye and splash, drip, drench, it’s rays onto everything. Grey to green. Black to blue. Purple to white. Morning showers make rainbows fly out …
THE SWEAT OF THE SUN
It is raining cats and dogs and they’re getting all hot and heavy with Juniper. I let the rain loosen me. I whistle back at the wind that carries it. Raindrops slide inside my butterflies. I‘m a puddle. Liquid and languid. But the fish, they are flying. The rain stops. I go to shore with …
UNICORNS & PARROTS
I am water camping. In a salt desert. Rich in fish and sharks. It is moon faced and next to nowhere. I drink drops of rain. My power is the sun, and the sun is a speckled sun. I’m living the slow life. I wear only a loincloth aboard Juniper. I wash my clothes with …
DREAM POP
South Fakarava is a cold drink and my first day is dream pop. I wake up after visions through the night that I am hunting for a purple pearl in a cold lagoon. The dream told me, “Do not pick the pearl, let the pearl pick you.” I Make coffee. Work. Say goodbye to Inapo. …
THE SWIMMING MAN
It’s 9:30 a.m. The sky is white with clouds. Storms breaking between. I want to sail the lagoon south, but need sunlight to see all the coral along my path. I spot a sailboat heading into the channel. I will follow them. I turn the engine on and run up to the bow to weigh …
A SNOW GLOBE OF SALT & SALT LOVING THINGS
Sixty black birds with white heads have been circling Juniper for days. Fishing the fish that swim beneath us at anchorage. They perch on the bow pulpit, then pounce; water flies, wings tangle, fish freak, guts get gulped, birds laugh. Only my boat. Only this spot on the water. All day. I don’t know what …
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