Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Shell that Sang


maggie and milly and molly and may, by e. e. cummings

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

for whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea


A song.





Saturday, June 29, 2013

Sailing to the Lighthouse at Cape Lookout

We set off one fine early morning with four fellow boats from Wilmington, North Carolina for a day's sail to the lighthouse at Cape Lookout.

Looking Northeast at Dawn

What had promised to be a day of manageable wind and low seas turned into a day of high winds and high seas. The ride was rough and I turned my camera off until near the end of a fifteen-hour cruise.

Waves and Sea Salt

Here is a little bit of sailing with the genoa down and the main reefed two times...


The sight of the red entrance buoy was a welcoming sign at the end of the day.

Arrival at Cape Lookout Anchorage

Pulling in the Sails

We settled into the quiet harbor near the lighthouse for the night. 

The Anchorage at Cape Lookout

Several loggerhead sea turtles turned up to welcome us and stare curiously while we put down our anchor and tied down the sails. I tried to photograph them but they dipped below the water each time I raised my camera to my eye.

To the Lighthouse

Losing personality, one lost the fret, the hurry, the stir; and there rose to her lips always some exclamation of triumph over life when things came together in this peace, this rest, this eternity; and pausing there she looked out to meet that stroke of the Lighthouse, the long steady stroke, the last of the three, which was her stroke, for watching them in this mood always at this hour one could not help attaching oneself to one thing especially of the things one saw; and this thing, the long steady stroke, was her stroke.   - from To the Lighthouse, by Virginia Wolf, chapter 11, paragraph 1.





Cape Fear Summer


Narrow barrier islands and sandy beaches, shallow waters and ocean inlets; salt marshes hugging the bay and maritime forests shaped by wind, sand, and salt...this is summer along the Cape Fear coast.

Dunes at Early Morning

The day is brisk
The air is sweet
The miles they pass
Beneath my feet
Slipper shells
And Angel wings
In an empty whelk
The ocean sings.

- Russell F. Flynn Jr.


Sunday, June 2, 2013

From the days of Vasco da Gama

While wondering around Fort Cochin in search of the church where Vasco da Gama was buried, I came upon this gothic beauty, built in 1505...

Santa Cruz Basilica, Fort Cochin, built in 1505

The interior of this Roman Catholic church is beautifully decorated with a glittering alter, 


decorative tiles, fresco painting by Italian painter Antonio Moscheni,


hand-carved doors,


and murals painted on the ceiling.


Eventually, I did find the church where Vasco da Gama lay to rest for fourteen years before he was shipped back to Portugal.

St Francis Church, Fort Cochin, built in 1503

It is simple and lovely with beautiful carved tombstones inside.


Wondering through a neighborhood can bring worthwhile surprises. 

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Where the Rain is Born


The summer monsoons have arrived and I am going. 


Goodbye Kerala, for now.