Dear Reader, This morning was freakin cold. In Florida. In March. There were solid ice droplets on my boat. Miss Pink was not happy. But I was just happy we didn’t have to paddle far and thus could stay in our tent with the fly doors closed to block the wind while we drank our morning coffee. We only had a measly 1.8 nm to paddle to the small, quiet fishing town of Carrabelle. There, Skip, the Innkeeper of The Old Carrabelle Hotel, met us at the public boat launch with his truck, loaded up our boats and gear and …