My cousin Diane landed in deep doo doo for mouthing off to my Dad’s sister one too many times and got shipped from Ohio to reform school—i.e. my life. We sailed to Key West, fetched Di from the airport, and anchored off Marathon Key. Di made a tiny haystack of fish...
I’d had my fill of Saturday-Sunday cruises, but my family nevertheless stowed fresh water, powdered milk and pasta for a three week sail around Key West and home to Miami on our thirty-six foot yawl—though Dad added the bowsprit and called it forty. Regardless, a...
Saturday dawned sunny and sticky like every other day in Miami, but a cloud of misery sat on my head like an anti-halo as I anticipated a weekend scraping barnacles off the Annie Lee’s hull. R.J. perched in the cockpit. At four years old, even today’s fifty-yard...