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Many of you already know though I am a very serious practitioner of the art of Sunday Funday. But, for the uninitiated, Sunday Funday is exactly what it sounds like – spending all day Sunday doing whatever it is that sounds fun to you. Feel like reading in bed all day? Read in bed all day. Feel like having macaroni and cheese for breakfast? Eat mac and cheese for breakfast. Feel like having a White Russian with that mac and cheese? Well, you get the point. Barring some sort of emergency I have practiced Sunday Funday nearly every Sunday for…

Sleeping in Maui airport

Since we’ve temporarily settled into Mahahual for a good portion of the year, our travel has been reduced quite a bit. But those times when the homeowners come down to enjoy their house? Well we’re off to catch up with family and friends and house sit in as much of the world as we can in that time, hopefully as inexpensively as possible. But here’s the thing with trying to travel cheaply – it typically means you have to forego some things or sacrifice a bit. Look, we have way more time than money (way, way, way more time). So…

Mahahual Sunset

We’re tired. Tired of constantly packing (and unpacking) the car. Tired of constantly trying to find groceries in a new town. Tired of a feeling of being uprooted every few months. In short, we’re tired of constant travel. Not travel in general mind you, just the churn of constant travel. The other day I sat down with Google Maps to figure out how far we’ve traveled in the past five years. Before I’d gotten even 18 months into our journey Google told me I’d reached the maximum destinations allowed on one map. Even Google thinks we’ve been going too fast…

I spent World Oceans Day netting my favorite fish, the Permit. There, I said it. Now I have something else to say – I abhor nets. Hate them to no end. Even the sight of them makes my stomach turn. In my experience, nets are often the tool of poachers, the very people who pillage and plunder the rich natural resources in the waters surrounding my beloved Xcalak and Mahahual. In the span of a day, a couple of guys (or ladies, I don’t discriminate) with a net can damage the ecosystem of an aquatic area so badly it may…

hurricane earl

Remember Hurricane Earl 2016? Probably not since Hurricane Earl was considered a minor hurricane, didn’t affect the United States and really didn’t get a lot of media coverage. Officially, Earl was only a Category 1 (sustained winds to 95mph) hurricane for a few short hours before deciding to play nice and downgrading himself back to tropical storm status. Luckily, we got to experience those few hours and not only were they not short, I’ve got a few choice words to say about “minor” hurricanes as well. A “minor” hurricane is kind of like a “small” train wreck or “kind of”…

Jason and Santiago

Hi, my name is Jason and I am an addict. Those words probably aren’t a big surprise to some of you but we’re not talking about drinking beer or the Kansas City Chiefs here. We’re talking about fishing, specifically, saltwater fly fishing. Wait! Stop! Please don’t run away! This isn’t a post all about fishing, I mean, it kind of is but it’s actually more about my quest to find things that I enjoy doing and am passionate about. A large part of the reason Deidre and I left our relatively stable, but ultimately unsatisfying, life behind and embarked on this…

diving in mahahual

As much as I enjoy scuba diving, and I do, I really do, sometimes it has some elements that can make it tough to love.  Just getting to the dive site is often a study in masochistic behavior for me. The day usually starts super early with a dive briefing while I pick at the provided soggy fruit “breakfast.” That’s followed up by putting on a smelly wetsuit (no matter how many times they’re washed they never quite lose that distinctive pee smell) and then trying not to vomit up that breakfast while on a long, sometimes bone jarring ride…

pantless paddling

As I attempted not to vomit into the North Fork River I wondered where on the long list of bad decisions I’ve made in my life that last White Russian ranked. I’m nearly 42 years old and these days I have no business staying up much past dark, let alone drinking White Russians and telling old war stories with my college buddies until nearly dawn. Yet, that’s what I’d done and now here I was sweating in waders and trying not to pollute the very river that I’d come to experience. How had I come to be (possibly) dying of dehydration…

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