When I found myself in the wildly tossing Atlantic ocean and circling between me and the sandy bottom was a literal sharknado, my first thought was to jump back in the boat as fast as my snazzy yellow flippers would carry me.
Here’s the thing about a good stew: you have to let it… well, stew! For like three hours! And let me tell you, it smells really good. The. Whole. Time.
So there I was, thigh-deep in chill-inducing river water, with my sky blue kayak, my beautiful Ellie Sparrow, staring mournfully back up at me from a foot beneath the surface.