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Wilderness of Waves

Wilderness of Waves

sailing in search of an endless sunrise

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Tag: squalls

Posted on August 23, 2019October 1, 2019

I Want Off Of This Boat

Today I have been in squall after squall of the most severe kind that I have seen. I can no longer fight The Grey Cloud Carriers. They are winning and have stolen all but the breath from my body. I am 70 nm away from shore and I won’t make it before dark. I got …

Continue reading "I Want Off Of This Boat"

Posted on August 19, 2019October 1, 2019

The Carriers of Grey Clouds

Yesterday I went through squall after squall. I call them The Grey Cloud Carriers. The Grey Cloud Carriers are cold-hearted ninjas. They creep in, kidnap the sun, eat every patch of blue in the sky, and then confuse the wind until it spins every which way to Sunday. They play games with me too. They …

Continue reading "The Carriers of Grey Clouds"

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  • Juniper's Journal
  • San Diego to Hawaii

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What do you see when you see me? Who am I really? If anybody asks, tell them that at the age of 38 I changed my name to Honeybird and grew a cowboy mouth. Tell them all I ever wanted to be was a Jesus bug so that I could walk on water. Tell them I have long shadows. Tell them that there’s a forest inside of me that knows no light, but then there’s a wildflower meadow inside of me too, that knows nothing but the light and if they need me I’ll be somersaulting through the meadow. Tell them I got separated from my sailboat and my bones started to dry out and crack in the absence of saltwater, so I went to The Big Easy just to kiss an alligator and that the kiss filled me with all the wild things and left me hungry for more. 🐊 check out my lasted adventures on Wilderness of Waves.
This is my life raft. Her name is Cherry Two Two. And that’s what my face will look like if Juniper sinks and I’m forced to float around, in the middle of a foaming sea, inside of Cherry Two Two. 🍒 The other day someone asked my advice on buying a cruising boat. If I could go back in time, my future self would give my past self these hot tips.....⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
This one time in French Polynesia a booby landed on me. Boobies are my guardian angels at sea. One sailed across the Pacific with me. I named him Pluto. Whenever the sea was rough and wild and I didn’t want to be alone, he was there, sitting above the companionway. It was total magic. He left digested fish guts all over my instrument panel, but the stench was worth it and reminded me that he was real. So many things are imagined out at sea... it’s surrealism at its finest.
Years ago I spoke to a fish in a dream. The fish was in a glass bowl, barely swimming. I thought to myself that he must be hungry. I went over to feed him and he bobbed up to the top, gasping for air, and said to me, "Please help me, I am thirsty and I can not breathe." I was confused, he was in water surrounded by oxygen, how could he not breathe? Upon closer inspection I saw that he was swimming in milk. I awoke in tears, on a bus traveling through Thailand. I knew it was a prophetic dream. ⁣⁣
I wrote yesterday on Wilderness of Waves about my OCD. Sometimes my brain is overpowered by obsessive thinking and it can get all twisted up. It can be a hiccup, a hindrance, a handicap, if I allow it to be, but channeled properly it is my life’s biggest blessing. Chess and sailing are two positive hobbies born out of my obsessions. I can pour myself and thoughts into them and be fed by them, rather than starved. ☀️ Also there is a short fiction story at the end of that post called Fais Do-Do. It takes place in New Orleans and I wrote it in celebration of Mardi Gras and stories I’ve been reading by Kate Chopin.
I put my head on my pillow, it’s all salt and wet feathers. The ocean climbs aboard and slaps me with her long white fingers. I can’t escape her. When I close my eyes I see her big blue waves. Rolling towards me. They wail. They howl. They thunder. Like a pack of saltwater banshees. I make the banshees melt by pressing my fingers lightly onto my eyelids. They melt into a thousand dancing suns. Now I feel all high and dry again. I toss. I hear a soft voice say, “Come into the water.” I’m thinking how much closer to the water can I get? I’m sleeping inside of it. I’m wearing it. I’m eating it. I’m all over it and it’s all over me. My skin and soul and skull- submersed and splashing. If an animal, like a horse was near, it would mistake me for a salt lick and flick it’s tongue across me from head to toe, starting with my eyelids. 🌊 🌊 🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊 hey y’all I write about my sailing adventures. Come get wet with me on Wilderness of Waves (link in bio)
People ask me, “What do you do when you’re out at sea alone?” ⁣⁣⁣
Everything is so sapphire. The sky. The sea. The ships orbiting the sea foam spewing from Poseidon’s lips. The silverfish flopping like flapjacks on cream-colored crests, hives of jellyfish, flocks of feathers, buckets of crabs, blue and surf. 🌊 Excerpt from a new fiction piece on Wilderness of Waves- it can be found at the bottom of the post titled “Planes & Floral Puffs”

The Voyage

Wilderness of Waves is a blog by solo sailor, filmmaker & artist Olivia O Wyatt.

She is sailing her 34 ft. boat, Juniper, to destinations guided by humpback whale migration patterns.

In August 2019, she single-handed from San Diego to Hawaii. It took her 23 days. She and Juniper are now in Tahiti.

Follow along as she wanders the seas in search of magic.

Learn More

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What do you see when you see me? Who am I really? If anybody asks, tell them that at the age of 38 I changed my name to Honeybird and grew a cowboy mouth. Tell them all I ever wanted to be was a Jesus bug so that I could walk on water. Tell them I have long shadows. Tell them that there’s a forest inside of me that knows no light, but then there’s a wildflower meadow inside of me too, that knows nothing but the light and if they need me I’ll be somersaulting through the meadow. Tell them I got separated from my sailboat and my bones started to dry out and crack in the absence of saltwater, so I went to The Big Easy just to kiss an alligator and that the kiss filled me with all the wild things and left me hungry for more. 🐊 check out my lasted adventures on Wilderness of Waves.
This is my life raft. Her name is Cherry Two Two. And that’s what my face will look like if Juniper sinks and I’m forced to float around, in the middle of a foaming sea, inside of Cherry Two Two. 🍒 The other day someone asked my advice on buying a cruising boat. If I could go back in time, my future self would give my past self these hot tips.....⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
This one time in French Polynesia a booby landed on me. Boobies are my guardian angels at sea. One sailed across the Pacific with me. I named him Pluto. Whenever the sea was rough and wild and I didn’t want to be alone, he was there, sitting above the companionway. It was total magic. He left digested fish guts all over my instrument panel, but the stench was worth it and reminded me that he was real. So many things are imagined out at sea... it’s surrealism at its finest.

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