Nate Brady here.
I don't live in Rock Harbor, but I do fly down from the Panhandle every month or so. Often enough to have a house here. Nothing fancy, but it has a dock and some elbow room.
Used to be when I came down, a group of us fished all day, drank and played poker all night. Slept for a few hours, and did it all again the next day. Sometimes more. A few of us are still around. A couple of them got married again, one died, one had to sell his bay house when the market dropped a few years back.
Least I didn't have that worry. There's a lot to be said for running cattle on land that's been owned by my family for generations.
We added some new people to our group, but it's not the same. I even bought another boat, hoping to learn how to sail. That's not turning out the way I thought. The thing is at the boatyard more than at my dock.
I probably should have stopped coming down here, but I couldn't get the saltwater out of my blood. Or the women who come here to have a good time. I'm here every chance I get.
And I'm much too familiar with Will Knox's boatyard.