Early morning as we watch the sun come up over the great barrier reef. I am contemplating our adventure this last week. The sun is coming up over the shallow inlet waters and white ghost crabs the size of my fist scurry sideways along the sand looking for food before people and things start waking up to their day.

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It is time to take off my hat and pack it in my aluminum sided Rimowa and head for San Pedro by boat, then to Belize by bush plane, then to Dallas by cranky close-to-retiring union protected Delta flight attendants and staff.

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I worry about getting my bott fly larva (beef worms) I am hosting (and some of which I have named) through U.S. customs. Also, I either am having a secondary reaction to one of those leaves I ate earlier this week or my lips are very sunburned.

 

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But most of all I worry about missing all of this.

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In Ká

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