With the recommendation of our friends aboard Nyon, I pinned my hopes on the Canoe Pub Marina. It is a collection of about 15 slips behind the Canoe Pub, a warm, wood place where I could spend hours off the boat, sitting in front of a fire with a stout—or maybe it's a brandy and a book. People who worked there would know my name. I'd have a tab. When people asked where I lived, I could say, "Over there, on a boat behind the pub." But alas, it is not to be. We met with the marina manager yesterday, a white-haired salt named Paddy who lives on a 65-foot topsail schooner. "The news isn't good. They're kicking us all out, removing the pilings tomorrow." Despite his poor fortune, he regaled us with one tale after another and sang for us on the dock—no doubt a bit influenced by gin. He told us about his first guitar lesson from Pete Seeger and his close friendship and admiration of Utah Phillips. We wished him luck and continued our search.