The East Coast is an Island

Circling the Great Loop

A dock hand tosses our stern lines, and I move to the front deck, slipping the bow lines off pilings. Glen gooses the engines, first one then the other, playing the throttles so the stern clears the dock. It is early Sunday morning, and sun lightens the root beer-colored water on the mile-wide Caloosahatchee River. Traveling at 8 knots, we head eastward under motor, away from the Gulf of…