Entries by Bo Bryan

Tuning the Rig

We had not had sex since living together in the mountains.  Back then, we had had a lot of it for fun, not trying to get pregnant.  The fun had played out, the romance ended another failed experiment in bliss.  Now we were married with no ambition to be in love, only to procreate. Betsy […]

Name Change

We were hungover leaving the yacht broker’s house.  I asked Betsy to drive and opened the car door, letting her in.  Closing the door, I walked around to the passenger side, climbed in, and asked her to marry me in so many words,  “Do you still want to do this whole thing?  Have children and […]

Expiration Date

At a dinner party with the yacht broker who had sold me the boat, Betsy and I sat across the table from Mark, a good looking younger man, one of the craftsmen employed by the broker to outfit the yachts he sold.  Mark was highly competent, my favorite among the skilled hands helping me to […]

Glamour of Thieves

I located a boat in Texas.  Practically a new vessel, with less than fifty hours on the engine, sitting on an inland lake near Austin.  The floorboards weren’t even scratched.  She was priced to sell; the catch was, she was bare bones, not equipped for oceangoing: no electronic navigation, no long-distance radio-telephone, no self-steering gear, […]


In North Carolina, we looked for a house up and down the Outer Banks, and all along the western shore of Pamlico Sound, no luck.  But a boat like the one I was looking for happened to be anchored in the yacht harbor at Beaufort, near Morehead City.  A Hans Christian 38T, forty-six feet overall, she […]

Beyond Romance

I called Betsy from a phone booth in Edenton, North Carolina, on the Albemarle Sound, where descendants of Blackbeard the Pirate were members of the Chamber of Commerce.  I was on the road, I told her, looking for a house to raise kids in and a sailboat to travel with; I went on with the […]

Hurrying to Elsewhere

Leaving church, I drove out to the Oconaluftee River, found a rock to sit on, and stared at the moving water.  I prayed and waited for some echo, some after-shock to come, related to the watery blue entity I had seen flying through the sanctuary of the Baptist church.  What could that have been?  No […]

The Good Father

Looking for a wife, I decided to go to church. I was proud of my intention to be a father.  Fantasies of parenthood gave me a sense of belonging.  Soon I would be among the mothers and fathers of the regular community.  I would fit in as a parent.  Whatever qualities I lacked currently might […]

Rooster May Crow

The impulse hit me like remembering something you forgot when you’re already on the highway.  Like forgetting to take your own pillow when you go far away, else when you arrive, you can’t get comfortable, resting your head on the  memory of something you forgot. I wanted babies bad.  Imagining myself a father, I became […]