The Pacific

The Pacific

The first woman to sail alone across the Pacific to Hawaii left from Marina Del Rey more than fifty years ago in a 25 foot boat with no engine. She arrived with a broken wrist, unable to fire her flare gun, and her first words to the reporters who motored out to meet her were, "Never again!" Next she crossed the entire Pacific from Japan, passing through seven storms and two full typhoons.

I stayed in the executive suite at the Ritz Carlton Marina Del Rey. My dress was a ruched gold by Nicole Miller with a slight shine to the fabric, a particular favorite of mine. I wore new Stuart Weitzman stilettos, 4 inches, (bringing me to a height of 5'9"), in a slightly darker nude than my skin tone. I ordered room service and ate steak, cooked medium rare as I prefer it, with market root vegetables and garlic mashed potatoes. I was quite satisfied with my meal and the accommodations.

I popped open a bottle of my favorite Billecart-Salmon brut rose while I watched the boats coming in and going out. I threw a half pound of golden glitter into the marbled tub and drew a hot bath. I began to pour the cold champagne all over myself into the hot bath water.

I didn't realize until tonight that I've been so far out in the Pacific Ocean that the closest humans to me outside my boat were on the International Space Station.

Photo by Hello Miss

 

Danger

Danger

On reality

On reality