By Mark Gubin, as told to Pamela Hill NettletonI like lying in the hammock, on a tugboat, in the city. I live here a lot of the summer. Sometimes the construction noise can get to be a bit much, but below deck, down in my bedroom, the water is a pretty good insulator and it’s quiet.
I used to have a sort of pet seagull, Frank. He thought this was his boat. If people walked by and got too close, he squawked. Gulls can be pretty loud. I built these chairs and table out of driftwood and whatever floats by. I have a hook, I pull things in. I carved that wooden gull over there – I should repaint that for the season.
With the lights strung on the boat, and the lights on The RiverWalk, it’s pretty sitting here in the evening. I walk to the Public Market with friends, we pick out what we want to eat, come back here, and grill up dinner. From the wheelhouse up top, it’s a good place to watch a storm, to watch the lightning strikes. People walk by and talk to me.
I guess I’ve become sort of a character.