Progreso and Chichen Itza
Someone punched me hard in the stomach. Really hard. The pain had me doubled over.
I opened my eyes to darkness. It still hurt, and I tossed around trying to stretch the feeling away. It would not leave.
The digits on the clock slowly came into focus; 4:20 a.m. I got up, walked around and then began to feel nauseous. “What the heck?” I wondered, waiting for the feeling to pass. In a few minutes it was gone, but the pain remained.
Was I seasick? The ship felt perfectly still,…

