The man before me in Singapore is a descendant of Poseidon, Captain Ahab and Robert Shaw's Quint. Sea salt runs in his veins. A blue whale once breached beside him. The water tells him stories. The wind for him is a living thing.
"I can look at the water," says Russell Coutts, 60, quietly, "and I can read the wind moving across the water like a road map."
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