When i got to Portland i said a few times that i wanted to meet someone that lived on a boat. I don't know why. Heck, i just did. While walking along the esplanade i saw a boat tied off out about 40 feet from the shore. Pirate flags and gypsy gadgets covered the deck and i figured i would holler and see if anyone was home. Of note is that i was being followed by a film crew that was hoping to catch me in the act of stumbling into a story. I told them that if finding stories were simply an on-command kind of thing that i would probably be much more prolific than i am but that it would be worth a shot to take a walk and see what we found. I walked down to the shore line and called out to the boat. A fella named Finger came out. We yelled strange pleasantries at each other and 5 minutes later we were shaking hands on the shore. Sometimes it just works out.

Here is some of what he had to share.