“So you thought Mermaids were only in fairytales?”
“So you thought Mermaids were only in fairytales?”
By Lauren Miyashiro
A (generous) splash of blue Curaçao turns piña coladas a gorgeous hue of blue. And we promise they taste amazing, too.
Total Time: 0 hours 5 mins
In a blender, combine pineapple juice, rum, coconut milk, blue Curaçao, and frozen pineapple. Blend until smooth. If you want it slushier, add ice and blend until slushy.
Pour into glasses and garnish with maraschino cherries, pineapples, and paper umbrellas.
A huge school of jack tuna (bigeye trevally) swarm together in this amazing display of courtship. They absolutely dwarf the scuba diver. Octavio Aburto released a photo titled “David and Goliath” which was so astounding many believed it was staged or altered. It’s hard to deny this natural wonder, the tornado of fish, after viewing his footage. Octavio Aburto’s
The Straightforward Mermaid
By Matthea Harvey
The straightforward mermaid starts every sentence with “Look . . . ” This comes from being raised in a sea full of hooks. She wants to get points 1, 2, and 3 across, doesn’t want to disappear like a river into the ocean. When she’s feeling despairing, she goes to eddies at the mouth of the river and tries to comb the water apart with her fingers. The straightforward mermaid has already said to five sailors, “Look, I don’t think this is going to work,” before sinking like a sullen stone. She’s supposed to teach Rock Impersonation to the younger mermaids, but every beach field trip devolves into them trying to find shells to match their tail scales. They really love braiding. “Look,” says the straightforward mermaid. “Your high ponytails make you look like fountains, not rocks.” Sometimes she feels like a third gender—preferring primary colors to pastels, the radio to singing. At least she’s all mermaid: never gets tired of swimming, hates the thought of socks. article source
It was when the angels spoke,
that I awoke into the melodic sounds
a burst of brilliant sunlight,
blueness and a calm stirred all around
Sea creatures, big and small,
leaped up and gazed at my loving
They nourished me with treats from
They entertained me with slippery
sprouting water from their mouths
I cooed a smile
because they splattered me with
They were my friends,
my first toys
I was capsized in the arms sealife
Cradled upon a bay leaf,
I floated adrift..
Heaven’s breezes strummed
into gentle lullaby hums
I fell fast asleep
Up in midair I went, a fast and
Whispers never wait;
Silence give them vision;
Rainbows are their mantras;
In dreams they flourish – a homage for replenishing thoughts
Whispers blend within the spectrum of moods, sounds and into the movement of each dawning hour
My friend had been windsurfing a few times before, but I knew that although he knew a ton about different outdoor adventures, he was not the best teacher. This was the same friend who had promised to teach me to snowboard, took me to the top of the mountain, pointed me at a double black-diamond run, said “I’ll see you at the bottom!” and took off – leaving me there to figure it out. He had the same type of approach to teaching me how to windsurf. He told me that all I had to do was balance on the board, pull the rope attached to the sail and hang on. So, that’s exactly what I did. I stood up on shaking legs, trying desperately to balance while hoisting up the sail, I grabbed onto the mast, and I held on. I moved the sail back and forth a few times, trying to find and catch the wind. As I shifted the sail around and balanced gingerly on the board with my knees flexed and center of gravity low, I found a few little gusts and I giggled and clung to the mast each time I felt myself propel in any direction. I felt like I was in love with this amazing sport.
Then the wind stopped.
The sail deflated, I wobbled as I tried to maintain my balance, and finally dropped the sail and fell into the water. I turned back to see how far I had gone, and was shocked to find that I was smack-dab in the middle of the lake. I swam around and tipped the nose of the board toward the shore, thinking I would just catch a few more gusts and get straight back to shore. I hopped back up, hoisted up the sail, balanced, and waited … no wind. After a few minutes, I wobbled and fell back in. I tried again, frantically hoping for just one teeny gust – anything to help me to move – but nothing.
I wasn’t prepared to handle this. All I knew was that I was too far away from shore, and the only way I would move would be by swimming. I grabbed the rope attached to the front end of the board, and I started swimming. The sail dropped completely under water, serving as a kind of parachute, drastically impairing my attempts to move forward. I tugged and fought and battled with the board, and felt like I was making only inches of progress. I kept my eyes on the shore, which didn’t appear to be getting any closer. I made progress slowly, but my muscles were beginning to shake, ache and burn. When I was about 50 yards away from the shore, I took a break and pulled my limp body up onto the board and laid down my head and just tried to catch my breath. I heard a boat nearby, and looked up to see an older man and woman, both looking at me, headed in my direction. They threw me a rope, told me to hold on tight and they gently pulled me to shore. It may sound dramatic, but at that moment, I felt like they saved my life.
So, yes – I have been windsurfing before. But, the honest answer to the question I usually get regarding how I liked it would actually be more along these lines: “It was absolutely horrible and exhausting, and I felt like I was about to die by the end of the day, and I hated it.”
That type of answer didn’t really feel like it aligned with my enthusiasm for all other outdoor activities, so I have always been a bit elusive with my smiley vague answers to questions about the experience. But ever since that failed (and exhausting) attempt, I’ve always felt like it was a sport that I genuinely wanted to learn, and I genuinely wanted to love! So, when coming up with ideas about topics to write about, I was so excited to give windsurfing another try. I wanted to write an article about how awesome this sport is, how other interested beginners can get started, and how much I genuinely (honestly) love this activity. Sadly, I couldn’t do it.
If you are an avid windsurfer or a considering getting into windsurfing, please don’t misunderstand or feel disheartened. I can honestly say that windsurfing is totally amazing, but, it requires far more skill and talent and athleticism than any bystander could possibly imagine. It is truly a very cool sport and I admire and respect those who participate in it. I cannot personally claim to genuinely love windsurfing – at least not yet.
Windsurfing is really, really hard and physically demanding, and it’s important to understand this concept before your first experience. It is not like paddle boarding, kayaking, or snorkeling – all activities that are demanding and awesome, but that you can really scale to the level of adventure that you’re looking to have. You can learn the basics about any of these, then go out on your own, feel confident, and have a lot of fun on your first day. That was not the case with my most recent windsurfing experience.
Back on board
I signed up for a 2-hour lesson in Hood River, followed by 1 hour of additional equipment rental for extra practice. I asked my friend to come with me to take photos and help me to document the experience. I asked if she wanted to take the class with me, and she said, “Absolutely not – I’ve tried it before, and it is way too hard and tiring.” The tone in her voice was alarmingly serious, in contrast to her usually bubbly and optimistic demeanor. I giggled and said “Oh, it couldn’t be that hard!”