Where the wild wind lives, so does she.
There’s a spot two clicks past the point where most boats turn back. No name on maps. No signal bars. Just deep water, rock, and sky.
That’s where I drifted yesterday — solo, sails loose, clouds stacking over the horizon like gods in argument.
Most people fear storms.
I watch for them.
They’re a reminder: I don’t need to control the ocean — I just need to respect it.
I slipped into my Ocean Crew windbreaker — storm-grade shell, salt-stained from past crossings — and cinched it down tight. The kind of gear you don’t have to think about. You just trust it. Because out here, style’s nice, but survival’s better.
Waves started slapping harder, spray in the air sharp as lemon. I let the boat cut diagonally across the gust line and watched a lightning bolt crack 3 miles out. Beautiful. Terrifying. Perfect.
Then the squall passed.
Like it always does.
I floated there in the silence after — jacket soaked, skin buzzing, soul full. The kind of moment you can’t filter. You just live.
I’m not fearless. But I don’t let fear steer. — Kaiya Rivers
#TheOceanCrew #DriftAndStorm #TrustTheGear
