Playboy magazine gadfly and madly sly humorist Shel Silverstein parked his pate next to the sculpted boathouse "the Owl". Nearby a real relic from the thriving ferry -across-the-murky Richardson Bay lay beached along the methane-rich front lines, and for a time the poet Varda lived in the Captain's quarters rent-free at Gate V. Arques, the original Gate 5 landlord, never pushed too hard to collect back rent from the many squatters seeking a refuge from the real world. After all, the waterfront did have a high percentage of genuine talent somewhat tempered by unwashed urchins straight out of the pages of Charles Dickens. Alan Watts had an opulent office inside another one of Sausalito's beached ferry boats. His secretary kept the space open long after Watts left it all behind. Hank Harrison held court at various parties along the gates of Sausalito, doing it all for the bossa nova years before Nirvana and his daughter Courtney surpassed his moment in the strobelight. A rugged individual if there ever was one, Sterling Hayden just happened to be a frequent sails man who could anchor out and walk the docks when in Sausalito, a town that knew how to treat actors and artists like regular people. Some of the craziest or most brilliant actors in town are Snake Theatre, who are given much creedence for their off-beat , hands-on tell-a-plays. Laid back, yes. On an average day at the windy flea market Cher might be strolling along with Dino Valenti. Oh, he sang for Quicksilver and also lived on the waterfront. On any given night at the hippish Trident restaraunt you might have struck up a casual conversation with one of the Smothers Brothers, or noticed Stanley Mouse sipping wine at the bar, or maybe Bill Graham running up his tab while entertaining all tables within earshot. I wonder, did Bill ever pay up all his tabs around town?
Pam Tillis picked me up at a bash thrown by the infamous local rock 'n rollers Joe Tate and The RedLegs. Pam long since returned to the country roots she learned well from her Pop Mel Tillis, but back in '77 Pam was saving water by day at Gate 5 and spending her nights on stage with ultra-suave John Cipollina playing jazz fusion, her real passion that just didn't pan out even with the assist of the Bay Area's finest guitar slinger. Napa Street Pier was the closest outpost to Sausalito central of live-aboard lifers and had it's own array of real characters who found their niche on 30 dollars berth fee a month, sans amenities like heat and running water. Only the hippest of the hip were inside enough to possess a key to the only working shower room. All around existential athlete, well-educated adventurer and professor of sublime revolution Roberto Kaffke was no stick-in-the-mud waterfront man. Up early every morning after a quick shot of insulin, he and other local intellectuals headed straight for the "stammtisch" round table (the only one) at the AM coffee buzz institution along Bridgeway directly mid-town known world over... the one and only Fred's Place. Even Bill Graham got there when time allowed, unshaven and in a dingy T-shirt. Fred's Place was no fancy eatery. Maggie the waitress was as down to earth as low tide itself but she always had a glint in her clear blue eyes. Her smiling over-bite and horn rims let you know you were among friends. Of course, Fred himself was ever cantankerous and would have hated to call his place an institution. This is just a sampling of the hooch- swilling, wild-eyed and somehow beautiful people who have now sadly passed away from the once easy going totem-poled sanctuary that was the hey day of the Sausalito waterfront...the last free ride. Fortune smiles once again and perhaps with a little readership this precious bit of local color will not fade away after all. I heartily recommend the pages offering quite an appetizer laced with ample amounts of fresh garlic and old waves. A good read, well worth it's salt.