Crossing the Strait

Crossing the Juan de Fuca Strait in severe storms.

Juan de Fuca Strait
Highway of commerce bound for
A Seattle berth
Divider of nations
Transforms with Pacific rages
Turns ninety six miles of funnel
Of wind and wave chaos

That day she hobbled the
Stallion vessel Clipper
A high speed catamaran
Her four foils now risen into hull
Like a tall beauty
Stepping out of high heels
Beauty so diminished
She squatted
Hull plunging the currents

Starboard to port
Port to starboard
She rocked in erotic embrace
Of the white capped seas

Fifteen minutes out of harbor
A dozen, dozens more
Left, right
Passengers fell sick
Armpits were grasped guiding
Their staggers to deck rail
To vomit into wailing wind

Diana once received a secret
Given by a charter boat captain
Breathe through a vodka soaked
Handkerchief to quell nausea

No rags for us
We drank ashore
We drank aboard
My high-proofed vodka blood
Brain calming, body remembering
The rock of the cradle
I was joyous
In the wind and wave dance

Another time arriving in a Beaver with
Wings a wobble like
A tight rope walker’s pole
We had dropped between boulders
Landing like duck feet, gliding
To rest in calm harbor at the feet of the
Famed Empress

So different our return
Upon an Otter
On wings snapping like the staccato feet
Of a Flamenco dancer
We flew low yet
Lurched in ten foot spasms
A Mad Mouse carnival ride
I was alcohol immune to the
Ups and downs and twisty turns
Joyous again
Seated rear two seats of the ten
Fascinated clear to Seattle
I watched two skirted trannies
One gripped her seat post so
White knuckled
I feared her fingers snapping
We arrived in smooth return
Down to glide soft upon the sheltered lake
Still, dockside
She could not unclench

Reviews

[Desert Knave]

Such marvelous imagery throughout. As someone who will likely never get on a boat I think I got queasy reading about the waves. ~Jim

[Chris Shaw]

I have loved boating for years, but have never experienced rough seas, preferring the River Thames on a sunny day. Your description here is ace Michael. Who would have thought vodka to be so useful. Not sure I would be brave enough to travel as you did. Enjoyed watching your adventures from the sidelines.

Chris

[Michael Sun Bear]

Memories trigger memories. Once long, long ago I three times hiked in the Cascade Mountains, each time with different companions, trips lasting days, in which every time something went terribly wrong. That may be next but it will have to be a short story I think. I used to sail, having learned on a lake, which I loved. Later, we owned a 26 foot sailboat moored in Seattle which we would sail on the Salish Sea. I would never have become an accomplished open ocean sailor,

[Michael Sun Bear]

I have too much imagination and feared open waters. However, I have been sailing in high winds and wave with very experienced instructors at the helm. In that situation I was unafraid and joyous in the power of nature.

[Chris Shaw]

I have only ever been a fair weather sailor. Nature can be very fickle:)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

This reminded me of a couple of my jaunts to find a place to puke in private. I never drank that often but a few times, I took that ride starboard.
j.

[Michael Sun Bear]

Thanks Jacob.

[John the Baptist]

Intense imagery here puts one into the heart of the storm. Booze saved the day, though. I knew it was good for something.

[Michael Sun Bear]

There is a nausea center in the brain. Alcohol binds to a variety of receptors so it makes sense to me that it would act on that center. And I can attest from personal experience, not just as described in my poem, but other experiences as well, that it really does work. The Hankerchief Method is quite interesting. Just as a user might grind up pills then snort them, bypassing the liver and straight to the brain with no reduction works with alcohol as well.

[Shownashappening]

Coleridge was surely talking about this when he said that poetry is the best words in the best order.
Absolutely phenomenal writing here.

[Michael Sun Bear]

Thank you, what a great review!