The Colonel Divorced The Wrong Man

I grew up on the rocky shores of coastal Maine, where the Atlantic was in my blood. Before I met my wife, free-diving was my second breath—the silence forty feet under the surface was the only place my mind ever felt truly still.

But Evelyn Stone was terrified of deep water.

After we got married, she would wrap her arms around my neck, her eyes rimmed in red, whispering that the thought of me out on the open ocean terrified her so badly she couldn't sleep. To give her peace of mind, I greased my gear, packed my regulators and wetsuits into a heavy steel trunk, and padlocked it.