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While at anchor in the South Pacific, I wrote a book about my voyage. From daunting weather to relationships sweet and sour, wild waves and boat repairs, this very personal memoir shares my many challenges, my search for harmony with nature, and how I come to feel the unity of all things. The team at Patagonia Books, along with illustrator Daniella Manini, bring my story to life with amazing art and four photo galleries. It’s a work of enormous love, with the intention to inspire others to follow their hearts, protect our planet, and live out their dreams. Ask for it in your local independent bookstore, order online, download as an e-book, or listen to me read it as an audiobook. While at anchor in the South Pacific, I wrote a book about my voyage. I’m excited to share the personal story of my voyage with the world. Book available now!
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OLI’s ‘Pearl’

Posted on Feb 11, 2010 | 2 Comments

Cyclone OLI brought me a new companion, Poe. Tahitian for 'Pearl'.

The wind had decreased slightly by morning but it was still gusting over 40 knots. The waves had pulled the dirt away from Swell’s supports in the night, but she remained upright. No boats in the yard had fallen or broken lines in the marina but others whispered of boats that had been beached or sunken overnight. I cringed. Swell and I were both undamaged. There was no power or water, but we had mangos enough to survive for weeks!

The brunt of the storm was over, but without much that could be done in the still strong winds, I went for a walk to survey the area. Along the tattered shoreline, fallen trees, trash, and a giant rusted barge float had washed ashore. I meandered slowly, perusing the debris, then stopped to look out at the churning sea beyond the lagoon. Enormous mountains of water exploded on the reef.

“Cheee. Cheeeee. Cheee. Cheee.” I barely heard over the wind. “Cheee. Chee. Cheeeeeeeeeeee.”

It was coming from the pile of sticks at my feet. Looking closer I noticed something moving. There, a tiny baby bird was huddled amongst the debris. It was sopping wet and trembling. I looked around for any signs of a mother or siblings. Nothing. Just heaps upon heaps of leaves and branches and rubble and trash.

I scooped it up and looked it over–webbed feet and a big black beak—a seabird for sure.

“Well I can’t just leave you here?!” I told the bedraggled little creature and carried it back to the house cupped in my hands.

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2 Comments

  1. Nevin
    February 12, 2010

    I love reading your posts to my daughter. Keep them coming.

    Safe travels and take care
    Nev

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  2. Bill Humphreys
    February 13, 2010

    Hi Liz,
    I am stuck in L A harbor getting my boat ready. You are helping in your own way and I want to thanks you for that in a way I haven’t imagined yet. Maybe cross tacks somewhere… Your last site had links to smugmug but it has a password now. Are you using it anymore? The photos are great inspiration, and your ability as an author is just amazing. Thanks for keeping me going, as I am stuck in a boatyard in backwater surrounded by petro storage tanks. You know how it is….I need blue water too.
    Cheers,
    Bill

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