Our last journey took us to the Tropic of Cancer, a land of heat and relentless sun, where snorkeling and spearfishing were our daily pastimes. But today we sit beneath a mile deep soup of Seattle fog, awaiting our flight to Alaska and 59 degrees north of the...
The new owner walked down the dock and as we came into view he threw up his arms and shouted “Selkie!” Two days of grueling travel hadn’t dampered his excitement for his new boat. Before we parted ways he handed us a beautiful, hand sewn ditty bag...
As told in the previous post, the trail of the thief ended that morning in front of a high fenced, gringo laden RV park in the middle of nowhere. We were greeted by the owner, a white haired old guy with a gold chain, a billfish tournament t-shirt, and a Tecate Light...
The sea was glassy calm, an eerie occurrence in itself for late January, so we were motoring along making our way towards Isla San Jose. 100 yards away, two tentacles arose from the depths and slowly bobbed about, dangling and turning in the air about a foot...
A moment in our lives that makes us chuckle… Wylie loves to ride in the tender Bojangles, it’s like his cave, his security blanket, and most importantly, the old friend that ferries him to shore. He’ll lie in Bojangles patiently for hours, lullabyed by lapping waves...
