Galveston is a short drive from Houston—in less than an hour a city weary soul can be transported to another realm. Sadly, because of its brown water and toothless underbelly, not many people I know share my enthusiasm for the convenient island retreat. A few days back I made one of my regular trips. When I stepped out of my car at the Galvez’s valet stand a pungent stench affronted my nostrils—like being slapped in the face with a spoiled trout. One look at the beaches and the reason is obvious. Galveston is experiencing one of the worst red seaweed …continue reading