When boats attack….
It’s official. The Indian Summer is trying to kill me and I now have photographic evidence.
Yup, that’s my blood. OK, OK, the boat didn’t really attack me with a knife, but it did draw my blood. I’m not even sure how.
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Indian Summer
I have a boat. Sometimes, she tries to kill me, but I know its only because she loves me.
My boat is a 1968 Coronado 25, which means she’s older than me and has become a “classic beauty.”
