Michael HoodI was raised on the water. We lived at the beach and had boats in Puget Sound. I’m comfortable there. Can’t remember ever being afraid- probably don’t have the proper respect for the sea, but there you are. No brains, no headache.
Mondays, here in Haiti, I cram myself with a small crowd of Haitians in a little sprit-rigged workboat going to the twice-weekly market at Madame Bernard, the big city here on Ile a Vache. It’s nice sail – about an hour one-way and half that coming back with the seemingly consistent breeze at our backs.
I’m especially not afraid on this weekly Caribbean trip. Unlike the Sound, the waters here are warm; we’re close to land, and there are lots of other boats around.
Doubt if this little creaky, leaky (we passengers bail it out at least once each way) craft went down, that it would be a tragedy- it would just mean some people got wet. And of course the piglet, sleeping atop the bags of charcoal in the forward section would be on his own- probably pas de problem- along with the secrets of the universe, pigs are born knowing how to swim.
We had a rudder problem this week on the return sail. Falling off, it was- that’s all. Le 
komandan and his aged mate looked slightly concerned as they struggled to keep it from floating away.
Suddenly, for the first time I can remember on the sea, experienced terror, horrors, sweats, real fear: my phone! This ship going down on those rocks over there where the wind was pushing us, would spell its certain death, There’d be nothing i could do to save it from drowning. Holy shit!
They tied the rudder back on with some thin line they had and the old man jumping in the water to secure it. We limped in under half the sail up. It was not a big deal. Me and my cargo more precious than the poms de terres and hot sauce I’d bought at the mache was dry and safe and bursting with connectivity when we waded ashore at Kei Kut, my new hometown.
Guess I’ll leave the fone at home from now on- I lean on it at the market for $ calculations, translation, and fotos, but ialso, back in my maison, it’s my communication to everything that is not Haitian. As immersed as I find myself- I gotta have something of my other life, and my precious iPhone provides that precious connection. (gawd- how many times did I use the wrod precious in this little essay??)
On the other hand, I’m thinkin’- a whole damn morning with no phone in my pocket??? disturbing… probably by Monday next, I’ll have talked myself into taking it along.
diversity of de feet