Sometimes we’d hang out with a motley-little-crew of other boats. We’d dot our way along the islands, and see the same snail-like double-ender with fading varnish on the teak deck turn up in the anchorage, or hear Serendipity II check in on the radio when we were at sea, ranting us about the bad weather...
About Me
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated.
