People With Gusto

Steve greeted my boyfriend, Phillip, and me as soon as we tied Plaintiff’s Rest, our 1985 Niagara 35, up to his dock on one of the Berry Islands in the Bahamas. He was tall, cheerful and clad in a hodge-podge of clothes one might wear to paint a house: oversized, grungy and old. His shoes were duct-taped together. His hat was dirty and crooked. When his wife, Pat, came out of the house, she looked like the painter’s apprentice, draped in a stained men’s button-down, three sizes too big for her, and sporting blue pants, pink Crocs. I loved them both instantly, even before I heard their life story.

I’ll be honest. When ’s editor