It’s 2:29 a.m. Tetiaroa sits like a shadow beneath the moon off of starboard. I can’t smell land, even though it’s only 3 nautical miles away. I see one boat bobbing next to it on the chart. It’s name is Poe Nina. The name makes me reflect on the macabre nature of both Poe’s writing...
This post is for members only.
Comments are closed.