wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.

Category Archives: Travel


by 37 Comments

Dolphins of Baja

Cindy Knoke’s blog post (link to Cindy’s blog at the end of this post) about viewing dolphins reminded me that I had a scene in my novel, “Orion’s Gift,” that was very similar to her adventure.  I wrote that scene after the Captain and I had this very experience in a 12-ft. aluminum skiff many years ago. It is based almost completely on our own dolphin trip from when we were dry camping in Baja and the dolphins came into the Bay of Conception.

The excerpt is a bit long, but I hope you will bear with me and enjoy the ride.

 

In the novel, my character, Sylvia, has run away from her unraveling life in southern California. Without much planning she has bought a camper van and thinks she can escape her problems by dry camping on the beaches of the Baja peninsula on the Mexican side of the border.

She meets Kevin, another runaway from a bad marriage, and the two discover an unexpected attraction to each other.

 

Here is the dolphin scene from “Orion’s Gift.” (Notice the whitecaps in the photo above.)

Moments later, I pointed. “There!” Kevin started the motor and, at a slower, quieter speed, angled the boat towards the school’s probable destination, so that eventually our paths would cross.

Hundreds of sleek bodies broke the surface only to curve and dive down immediately and reappear a few yards farther on. Kevin cut the motor again and we drifted, a mere speck in the middle of the huge Bay of Conception, closer than we had hoped to a huge school of dolphins, all aiming for the head of the bay.

“Listen to them!” I whisper-shouted to Kevin. The mewling, whistling, singing, and crying, as they repeatedly broke the surface of the water, was an eerie choir piece. Hauntingly beautiful, it gave me goosebumps in spite of the warm day. Kevin’s face mirrored my feelings exactly—somewhere between awe and ecstasy. My mind was suddenly in turmoil, balancing this rare and precious moment with the realization that I probably had few of them left. Peaks of happiness and bottomless pits of misery played havoc with my emotions.

My eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for bringing me out here. That was so beautiful.” I lowered my head. Just needed a moment.

“It would have been a shame to have to enjoy this all alone,” he said.

Still trying to come to terms with the amazing spectacle we had just experienced, we sat a moment longer watching the last of the dolphins disappear in the distance.

“Uh-oh!” Kevin pointed towards the open end of the bay. “Whitecaps.” He started the motor and turned the skiff towards home. Within minutes, the breaking waves had moved much closer and the glassy smooth surface changed to ripples that grew into an uncomfortable lump. I’d heard San Diego fishermen talk about the lump in the sea. Now I knew what they were talking about.

“Hang on,” he said. “It could get bumpy. I’ll take us to the nearest point of land and then we’ll work our way home along the beach.”

I gripped the gunwales of the boat where they began to curve towards the bow. We bucked into the choppy whitecaps that had now overtaken us. In no time, the sleeves of my blue cotton shirt were soaked from the spray. Two-foot waves didn’t seem like much but they followed one after the other so briskly that the small skiff took a pounding. My stomach clenched into a knot of fear as we were tossed in every direction. I tightened my grip against the bouncing of the boat. More waves splashed over the bow, soaking the front of my shirt. I was glad the water was warm. It would have been an ordeal to be splashed with icy water every few seconds. The finer spray wet my face so the drops were running off my chin. I glanced at Kevin in the stern of the boat. He was completely dry except for a bit of salt spray in his hair. He looked so good and I could only imagine what I looked like. Drowned rats came to mind.

“We’re almost out of it,” Kevin yelled above the engine noise. He saw that I was bearing the brunt of the beating at the front of the boat. I could only nod as I looked over my shoulder at him.

Closer to the beach, we zigzagged to avoid rocks. Beaching the boat here would be difficult. We continued along the shoreline until we rounded a point and entered the mini bay where our own sheltered beach lay.

“Whew! That’s better,” I said.

We pulled the boat ashore and secured it with a line to a huge rock far above the high tide mark. Immediately, Kevin started apologizing.

I held up my hand. “Don’t. It was wonderful. Worth the beating we took on the way back.”

“Your beautiful hair.…”

My hands flew to my head. “My hair?”

“It’s such a mess!” Kevin pulled me close and hugged me, kissing my wet tangled hair. “I have a sun shower bag you can use.”

“I have one too. But I think, since I’m wet already, I’ll have a swim first and then rinse off with fresh water.”

“Good idea. I’ll join you.”

“Don’t forget to shuffle your feet in case of stingrays.”

“Stingrays!?”

 

 

Orion’s Gift at amazon.com

For e-readers other than Kindle, go to smashwords.com.

Cindy’s dolphin post: https://cindyknoke.com/2023/06/18/off-the-beaten-path-super-pods/

Thanks for reminding me of this wonderful time, Cindy.


by 38 Comments

How Orion’s Gift Came to Be

While camping in Mexico’s Baja Peninsula, I noticed a woman sitting alone in a van parked near the beach. I never saw her get out of her vehicle.  For several days, she sat in the driver’s seat most of the time, listening to audio tapes and chain smoking cigarettes.

armenta (1)

The beach was beautiful, the sun shone every day, the water was clear and inviting, the place was a paradise. Why would she not get out and inhale that fresh air, go for a walk or a swim, or enjoy this little bit of heaven? I certainly did.

Anneli 4

It puzzled me and I wondered what her story was. Her plates said San Diego. I mulled over many scenarios. Why was she alone? Why did she never get out of her van? Was she trying to kill herself with her own first and secondhand smoke in the enclosed vehicle?

The seeds  of a novel were germinating in my head. A California girl comes to Baja alone. But why? I would make her health-minded, young, and beautiful. Yes, Sylvia was taking shape in my head.

palapa 2

She would need to find a love interest, but who would be down here on his own and why? Men come to Baja alone, looking for … something ….

Each of the characters had good reasons for being on the run, but would that interfere with them starting a new relationship? What if the attraction were so strong, they couldn’t resist?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

But what if their past troubles are coming after them? Will the new lovers stick together? Will they panic, split, and run to escape their pursuers? And what about that drug runner looking for revenge for a slight on the road?

sunset at La Perla

Life could be so perfect, if only those nasty people from their past weren’t coming after them.

For a gripping story of love and suspense wrapped up in a Baja adventure, why not download Orion’s Gift from amazon.com or smashwords.com today?

Cover design for Orion’s Gift is by Anita B. Carroll. Thank you, Anita for a great cover image. You can contact Anita at anita@race-point.com

eBOOK_ORIONS_GIFT


by 50 Comments

Nervous Water Fun

I’m a tourist, and I play,

Just a fool on holiday,

Yes, I saw the crododiles,

On the beach, back several miles.

Goodness gracious, says the fish,

Lady thinks she’s such a dish,

Well, she could be, for a croc,

Hope she doesn’t get a shock.

Don’t go scaring her too much,

Obviously out of touch,

She’s more worried ’bout the shark,

That is lurking in the dark.

 

It’s a quiet day, you know,

No need to alarm her so,

Did you see her splash in fear,

When that seaweed strand came near?

 

Where she came from there’s no sun,

And she has no swimming fun,

Not this early in the season,

She’s just nervous for no reason.

 

Don’t you kid yourself on that,

I attack in seconds flat,

But I’d rather wait ’til night,

Then I’ll take a hefty bite.

 

Hee, hee, hee! Hee, hee, hee!

Guess what is inside of me,

Best be careful in the sea,

And don’t snorkel near to me.

That was such a tasty snack,

Sun feels good upon my back,

I’ll be lazy for a while,

Says the grinning crocodile.


by 36 Comments

Quilting Retreat

The view from the lodge where we have the quilting retreat is gorgeous, even with snow, which always seems to hit us for the February retreat.

Inside the lodge, in the new section (below),  quilters have their machines set up at the far end and tables are set up for meals at the closer end. See the buffet-style serving area in the middle by the posts.

Next to the new part is the older section of the lodge, with carpet instead of hardwood flooring. The quilters on this side are closer together, but they each have their stations that they use every time they come to a retreat. The banter and chatter is cozy and friendly, and the quilters share new ideas.

Some of their finished products are hung on the railing of the loft. Sometimes just the flimsy (the top of an unfinished quilt) is hung up, and the less creative finishing work is done later, at home.

More quilts.

My project of fish placemats was very time consuming and I haven’t finished them yet, but I’ll post them when I get them done.

When I came home, I had a short (maybe 10-minute) ferry ride from Quadra Island to Vancouver Island, but the sky and sea were all one snow-filled mass. See the bits of snow still sitting on the roofs of other vehicles? I took this picture from inside my truck.

Looking out one of the ferry’s side windows, I could see the white caps blowing off the tops of the waves. The ferry swayed side to side as it battled the pull of the tide near Seymour Narrows while the wind blew in the opposite direction.

I had a white-knuckle 45-minute drive home on a snowy highway once I got off the ferry, but I felt safe in my truck, and was glad we had invested in good tires.

 


by 19 Comments

Dialect in Writing

 

Dialect 

If one or more of your characters have a dialect or accent that you feel is important to note in your novel, I would suggest that unless you are very familiar with those regional speech patterns or accents, use them sparsely so they don’t distract from the story. The safer way to do it would be to choose a few instances of the dialect and use them in dialogue. Try as much as possible to have the rest of the writing in plain English.

Falling out of character by messing up the dialect is going to do damage to your credibility as a writer and to the credibility of the character.

I’d like to give you some examples of how I have used dialect and accent of a character in my novels.

One of my secondary characters in The Wind Weeps is Monique, a French-Canadian girl. I wanted to show that she spoke with a French-Canadian accent, but I didn’t want the phonetic spelling of every word of her speech become a chore for the reader. My solution was to limit Monique’s dialect and accent to a few of the most obvious speech habits that were typical of French speakers of English.

Saying the soft sound of “th” (as in “they”) is often difficult for speakers of French origin,  so, for example, instead of saying “there,” Monique would say “dere.”  For the hard sound of “th,” she might say “somet’ing” instead of “something.”

In French the sound of “h” is not used, so in English, Monique would have a habit of dropping the sound of the letter “h.” I showed this by placing an apostrophe in its place.  If she were saying, “It’s time to have something to eat,” she would say, “It is time to ’ave somet’ing to eat.”

That reminds me of the last clue to Monique’s speech being different; she would not use contractions. Instead of “can’t,” she would say “cannot,”  or she would say “it is” instead of “it’s, and “I ’ave” instead of “I’ve.”

By using these three changes in the dialogue, the reader could instantly identify that it was Monique who was speaking.  Just to be sure, I gave Monique two more habits of her own. I added the odd case of her swearing by having her say, “Tabernac,” once in a while. I also had her use an expression that was all her own by having her conflate two common phrases she had heard used in English. When she wanted to say “For sure” or “Sure thing,” as she had heard others say, she ended up saying, “For sure t’ing.”  Whenever this came up in the book, we would always know it was Monique speaking.

If you’d like to check it out yourself, you can find The Wind Weeps and its sequel, Reckoning Tide, at all amazon   (click on amazon) outlets and at smashwords.com (Click on smashwords.com).

My books are all marked down to 99 cents US so you can load your e-reader with bargain reading.

You can find a review of The Wind Weeps, by clicking on this blog post by Diana Wallace Peach.

P.S. For those who follow both my blogs, I have copied this post for both this one time. I don’t intend to make that a habit.

 

 


by 44 Comments

The Weather Wins

Evidence of winter damage can last for years in America’s prairie landscapes. Farmers did their best to put up strong buildings to withstand the elements in the days before modern building materials were available. Even so, the fierce storms often proved too much for the buildings. These roofs most likely had a huge dump of snow on them at one time.  The weight crushed the roofs as it crushed the farmer’s will to rebuild. In the dry climate, with little rainfall and lots of heat, crops could easily fail, discouraging even those who would have wished to rebuild.

Many buildings were left to their fate in the lonely landscape.

 

Even in more modern times, nature was more powerful than man. I hope the family who lived here wasn’t in the trailer when it blew over. If they were, they would have been rocking and rolling.

 

The tenants in these houses have moved out long ago. Most likely they, or the people they sold to, live nearby.

Somebody has to feed the horses.

Even the horses are hiding behind the house to get out of the blazing sun or the howling wind.

And yet, it’s a beautiful place to visit. Just very hard to live there, because the weather always wins.

 


by 24 Comments

Book Bargains

In the month before Christmas I have marked my novels down to US $.99. This way you can load up your e-reader with five novels to keep you turning pages for about $5.00 total. Hours of entertainment for very little cost.

What will you get for 99 cents each?

Orion’s Gift

When Sylvia receives devastating news, she knows she has to leave her California home. While hiding away in the Baja Peninsula, living in a camper van, she meets a man with a similar dilemma. Both must avoid the spouses pursuing them, or be forced to return to the intolerable misery of their past. Will the sparks they feel for each other help see them through or only make their problems worse?

Baja camping is not without its dangers and both runaways must learn to trust and mistrust at the right times.

*****

The Wind Weeps

Andrea leaves big-city boredom in Ontario to search for love and a new life on B.C.’s rugged coast. The love of two men and a woman leads her into the world of commercial fishing. But soon, her adventure becomes a nightmare. The beauty of her surroundings is at odds with the terror that she lives every day. Trapped in an isolated cabin on the coast, she will need to test her newly acquired wilderness skills if she ever hopes to escape. Be sure to follow up with the sequel, Reckoning Tide.

*****

 

Reckoning Tide

 

*****

 

Marlie

Unlucky in love, Marlie flees a bad relationship. She accepts a teaching job in the remote Queen Charlotte Islands (Haida Gwaii). The beauty of the islands and the rugged challenge of northern living enthrall her. A good-looking artist has his eye on her. The perfect gentleman. Or is he? And what about that handsome fisherman? Is he just a bit too real for her with his hunting and fishing? Just as Marlie hopes that her life has made a turn for the better, disaster strikes. She is shocked to see her life spiraling downwards yet again. How could she have made such an error in judgement—an error that sets more bad luck in motion?
Not willing to lose control, Marlie takes a deep breath and sets out to get her life back on track. But can she do it alone?
Set in the remote islands of coastal British Columbia, Marlie is a heartfelt romance of love and loss and love again.
Experience the fears and joys of northern island living and delight in a second chance at true love.

 

Julia’s Violinist

Julia’s Violinist takes us to postwar Europe for an unbiased story of a love triangle.  Julia is widowed with two children at the end of WWll. She remarries and hopes to pick up the pieces to put her broken life back together. It isn’t going well. A letter arrives from her first love from twenty years ago. After all these years, he is alive and wants her to join him in a new life. She struggles with morality and a chance for happiness. Life’s decisions are not always easy and they can come at a huge price.

*****

To find out more about these novels, you can visit my website:

www.anneli-purchase.com

You can also click on the book cover images at the side of this post to go to amazon. If you don’t have a Kindle, you can go to smashwords.com to get these e-books for all types of e-reader formats.


by 45 Comments

Harris’s Sparrow

Brr! That’s a cold wind. I think it’s coming from the north, from Canada. Might be bringing Montana snow soon.

But wait! What do I see over there? A door in the side of the hill? I wonder who lives there? Might they put out a bird feeder?

I’d check it out, but it’s awfully close to Halloween…. I hope it’s not a goblin hideout.

Harris sparrow braves the breeze

Teasing up a feather,

Tolerates the cold with ease,

Any kind of weather.

 

Food is easier to find

On the warmer days,

Winter is by far less kind,

He must change his ways.

 

Roots in cellars could be good,

Oh, to peek inside,

But the cellar’s sealed  in wood,

With a door so wide.

 

Maybe it’s a lucky stroke,

Harris sits and thinks,

Really this is not a joke,

Something in there stinks.

 

Spooky, hidden, hillside cave,

Holds a vampire body,

Harris finds he’s not so brave,

Flies off chirping, “LAWDY!”

 

After midnight he’ll be bound

For a place serene,

While the ghouls go dancing round,

Spooky Halloween!

 

 

 

 


by 36 Comments

Annie and the Honeydew Man

When my sisters and brother and I were little, we lived in a newly built, but unfinished house on the edge of town. The streets weren’t even put in place yet. Our road was just a track through a field of yellow grass. But it was perfect for us to play cowboys and gallop our pretend horses around the trails and up and down the hills of dirt that were not yet backfilled to the new house. We pretended to be characters from the western movies of the day — Annie Oakley, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, and Dale Evans.  But Annie was my favourite.  My sister was really too little to keep up with us as we tore around on the hills of dirt, so she played Annie Oakley and guarded the house while the rest of us were out on the range.

I don’t know what is wrapped around her right hand, and I just noticed for the first time in decades that there is a doll peeking out from behind her left shoulder.

Fast forward to more modern times. When the Captain and I were on one of our trips to Baja California, we stopped to do some shopping in Ensenada. I found a puppet-style doll that I couldn’t live without. She was the Mexican version of Annie Oakley. What made me even happier, was buying the doll that had to be her partner.  He is pictured in the photo below Annie.

The store proprietor told me that this doll represents the hen-pecked husband, the Honeydew man (Honey, do this and Honey, do that), but in Spanish they called this fellow a “mandelon,”  because he is ordered about. What woman would not want a mandelon to do things for her? I had to have this doll!

In my novel Orion’s Gift,  Sylvia is all alone in the world. It seems that her life has taken a sudden turn and everything has been going wrong for her.

She has “run away” to Baja California and is living in her VW van.

She really needs someone, so I gave her a mascot to lend her strength. Below is a short excerpt from Orion’s Gift, telling about how Sylvia came to adopt Annie.

Excerpt:

In one shop, handmade puppets on strings hung from the ceiling. Each doll had a unique character and, like orphans hoping to be adopted, seemed to call, “Take me with you.” I fell in love with a Mexican Annie Oakley. She held a mini six-gun in each hand and radiated confidence and self-reliance. I paid for her and happily carried her home to my van. I rigged up a spot on the curtain rod behind the seat for Annie to watch over me at night. She’d be my mascot, a reminder that I was strong and could take care of myself.

You can read Sylvia’s story in my novel “Orion’s Gift.”  She’s going to need Annie’s strength to face some of the challenges of being a woman travelling alone in Baja.

The e-book version is marked down to only 99 cents for the next few weeks.  Just click on the link to  amazon.com or smashwords.com for other e-reader versions.

 

 


by 42 Comments

Camping

A few days of R and R were in order, so we took our old trailer to a lake that was about three hours’ drive from home, and set up camp.

Once the main chores were done, I sprawled back in my lawn chair and looked up.

This is what I saw.  Although there were people camped next to us, it was quiet because they were out on the lake in their kayaks. The peacefulness of the place was a moment to treasure. On the coming long weekend, it would be much more of a party place, but for now, it was wonderfully quiet. Just the whisper of the leaves high up in those trees.

Later we would try our hand at fishing in the lake, but it was so hard to decide whether to hold the fishing rod or the camera.

Now that I’m home and it’s the weekend, I can’t help but wonder how the party is going. I bet it is noisy and a complete change from the quiet few days we spent there. Timing is everything.