I’m starting to rub off on my family…throw your shit into a backpack and get out there.
In a totally unforeseen, nontraditional Putnam family move, the clan is shlepping to the british virgin islands for an entire week. Bold enough, but did mother Paula halt her horizons there? No. She went ahead and chartered a sailboat with a 29-year-old South African sea goddess named Lizane to take us of the grid and onto the open, begging blue Caribbean waters. Seeing as this excursion is curiously occuring during “shark week”, there is a 84% chance she throws us overboard before 3600 hours at sea.
If signs of life have not been detected over the next week, please consider this an official S.O.S. call.
On the lighter side, Dave has classically over-prepared with fanny packs and head lamps/face torches/picture a coal miner for when the sailboat takes a turn into the caverns features in “Pirates of the Caribbean”. My job? Prepare the music and fetch the pirate hats for the scalliwags. If by “music” they were expecting the entire score from “The Curse of the Black Pearl”, then crisis averted, family.
Above: Father Dave’s assortment wouldn’t be complete without the safari hat. The most outstanding quality I’ve inherited from him.
Below: Accurate depiction of handsome Steve and myself on the boat.
Signing off, from the crow’s nest - Davy Jones (the one with the beard full of tentacles, not the one from The Monkees)