You can rest here in this beauty and tranquility

by dyanaw | Jun 5, 2016 | Adventure, Dyana Wells, Sailing

We motor slowly into a long glove-like harbour, looking for a good anchorage, depth sounding the bottom, manoeuvring around numerous shallow bars across the entrance. This is only our second stop since leaving Fiji and we are both silenced by the soft, unearthly...

Sailing and Fire – the sun and the sea are lovers

by dyanaw | May 25, 2016 | Adventure, Dyana Wells, Sailing

The fiery globe screams down, blasting the morning into light, sprinkling through the open hatch, sneaking into the galley, flooding the open companionway. I climb up into the cockpit for a stunning view. It is never the same, because we are always moving and the...

We’ve reduced nature to an attractive backdrop

by dyanaw | May 15, 2016 | Adventure, Dyana Wells, Sailing

I’m held in a sacred spell, in the radiance of an intensely gentle, all-pervading love. I walk up and down the beach and into the scrubby bush that falls down to the rocks, lost inside everything I look at, melted, utterly at peace. I stop to pick up the odd pretty...

The steady rolling rhythm of my body

by dyanaw | May 5, 2016 | Dyana Wells, Sailing

‘Does anyone want to go for a swim?’ ‘I’ll come with you, Alice.’ Dad replies. ‘Cornelius, what about you?’ ‘No, I need to look after the boat.’ We head for the small reef at the entrance. Cool water washes me free of our harsh air world. I become a water-baby again,...

This room is the pride of these people

by dyanaw | Apr 25, 2016 | Dyana Wells, Novels

We trudge barefoot through the rain and wash our muddy feet at the entrance. About thirty people, mainly women, are sitting on the floor, waiting. Bowls of food steam and cool on a long white cloth laid over woven floor mats. Pretty ornaments, pictures and flowers...

“Everything is extraordinarily present and precious.”

by dyanaw | Apr 15, 2016 | Dyana Wells, Novels

Excerpt from The Yoga of Sailing by Dyana Wells: I gaze around. Everything is extraordinarily present and precious. A roughly-dressed Fijian crosses aimlessly in front of our bus, a rangy dog noses for scraps; they both ooze the glory of existence. Emily’s thigh...