Photos by Christian Parroco

Clouds of smoke blotted out half the sky thanks to the fire burning on the peninsula. The August sun burned round and red, apocalyptic. The air hung hot and heavy and, most critically, still. This was a problem for a sailboat race.

I perched on the sloped deck, head ducked to avoid the swinging boom. A young woman in a leopard print swimsuit told me that because it was my first time here at Duck Dodge, the weekly summer sailing race, I had to kiss the captains of the other boats at the after-party known as the “raft up.” “With tongue,” she laughed. Charli xcx thumped from the speaker strung up with rope swaying above us from the mast.

Another woman, Maddy, splayed out on the deck next to me, propped her head up on her hand, her wrist choked with Taylor Swift

See Full Page