With the holidays in our wake and a New Year creeping ever closer, it seems a fitting time to reflect on the past boating season while updating ASailingStory’s followers on where we left off.
On a bone-chilling morning in late October, Karen and I motored from a nearly deserted Essex to our winter home of Portland, a distance of about 27 miles up the river. Not knowing that November and December would be a pair of the warmest months on record, we wrapped ourselves in layer-after-layer of clothes until we resembled the Michelin Man. At one point Karen pulled a fleece blanket from her bag of tricks, asking if I wanted to share it. Too proud (some say stubborn) to command my boat with a red fleece on my legs, I responded, “ohh no!”
An hour later I’d swallow my pride and say, through chattering teeth, “ok…
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