At Close Quarters: Confessions before the mast.

If there is a time to assess our sense of personal and social responsibility, the time is now.

In which a fouled anchor results in four friends getting more from a vacation than they imagined.

In which I took our little Santana on the estuary — and only had to answer to myself.

In which the only thing stronger than friendship, is the awful seagrass of Point Reyes.

In which happiness can be found, long before perfection.

In which I diligently log the books I’ve read, and those I want to read.