Dead red snapper glisten like ripe fruit. The pungent smell of open flesh—cabazon, abalone, lobster, sweet shrimp, butter fish, rock cod. There's the frantic scramble of beet-red stone crabs and the metallic jingle of scales and pocket change. Thin swirls of fragrant tobacco smoke linger in the air among deep laughter and confidential murmurs from weathered faces, their eyes crinkled into smiles. Ancient wooden boats brim with the day's catch. The infinite, bright morning sky above the endless ocean. This is the Dory... More >>>