Mexico

As I sat on the edge of the cockpit, my arms wrapped around the side of the dodger (not unlike a small monkey), riding out the 6 (maybe 8)..

I cannot fall back asleep. Presently, it is 7:30am on a rainy Sunday in Northern Wales; my pants smell like a potent medley of grass clippin

I am writing from an anchorage at Isla Tiburón in the Sea of Cortez; we arrived here in the dark last night so today was day of exploring...