Sometimes it must seem that these pictures and words come from a pastel land of sweetness. We can be lulled by the blue sky and sea, only to wake up with a start. Several days ago we ambled our way through islands in the early morning. Following the channel east, we found a small run about crashed up on the rocks, its motors still running hard. The bow was stove in and the steering console was overturned. A dog lay on the floor of the boat, stunned, but without any visible injury. There was no one on the boat and no sign of anyone in the water or on the land. Other cruisers arrived, emergency calls were placed, and a search began. After almost an hour, small work boats with local men appeared. Some boats held piles of conch or chum; one had several silent, watching children. They began their search for the man they knew as a neighbor or friend. When we finally left, he still had not been found.
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