post delayed due to hurricane ernesto

and an ongoing emergency of pleasure

It’s day two.

I feel like I’m moving.

I’m sitting outside on a step.

The step is solid. Despite this, everything is kind of swirling and kinda going up and down.

I may have done something with my inner ear.

Or,

I might have got my sea legs.

You ever get sea legs?

Worst I had em’, I was on the boat. We were motoring for twelve days straight. Not sure where, but when you travel at ten knots, we probably only covered a few hundred miles.

But when you spend a lot of time on water, you move differently. You become accustomed to adjusting your movements for the ocean.

Still as I type this, I’m haunted by shapes. I can see their faces, standing up tall, promising, hopeful.

Yesterday was day 1 - Long Beach with the Hemmingways.

Three and a half hours in the water, the fog. The waves were best at the end of the ride.

They would get good, walled up, steep and pushy, just before disaster exploding onto the shore. I played a game of chicken. How long can I let this go? How close to breaking my neck can I …