Waterbeds

Looking for a cushy berth? Rent a Md. houseboat for a waterfront weekend.

Work to do, bills to pay, obligations to meet -- but in my mind hung a two-word sign: Gone Fishin'.

My wife, Jan, and I booked a houseboat on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay, flung an overnight bag into the station wagon and sped toward the Saturday morning sun.

There are other places near Washington where you can rent houseboats -- Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia and Stonewall Jackson Lake in West Virginia, for example. But we were looking for something quick and quirky.

Jan wanted rest and read-laxation. I just wanted to land a fish. Nothing fancy. Get a cane pole, bait the hook, plop it in the water, see what I could haul in.

Two houseboats -- the Ark and the Dove, both for rent -- are permanently moored at the end of a pier at Fisherman's Dock in Edgewater, about 15 miles from Annapolis. We were assigned the Dove, the larger of the two. It sat in a peaceful cove among reeds and marsh grass. Perfect. Got there a little after noon.

I should have known something was amiss when I asked Ellen Croteau -- who owns the dock and the houseboats with her husband, Todd -- if people ever caught fish off her pier and she cheerily said, "They catch lots of crabs."

In our little houseboat, which had a queen-size bed, a sleeping loft, a tiny kitchen and a bathroom, we felt a million miles away from Washington -- though we were only an hour east. The houseboat was comfortable in a no-frills way. It was like camping out. We were there on a very hot night and suggest you go when it's somewhat cooler. The air conditioner worked pretty well; the shower did not. There were too many ants and not quite enough modern conveniences. The toilet, called an Incinolet, is actually an electric appliance that uses high heat to reduce everything to ash. The one mirror on the boat was above the toilet, and Jan remarked that they should move it.

There were some old books to read, a couple of board games to play and a CD player with a Willie Nelson disc nearby. "Perfect," Jan said. From the looks of the guest book, people have really enjoyed staying here.

On Saturday afternoon, Jan went her way and I mine. For lunch I stopped at Sam's Market, which advertised a full-service deli and live bait. Sure enough, the market offered up ham-and-cheese sandwiches, and near the door there was a small fridge full of bloodworms and night crawlers. But I saw no cane poles to put them on.

I tried a couple more shops in the area. No luck.

It's a wonderfully funky place, Edgewater, with marinas and fishy place names like Turbot Landing and Skiff Cove Road. Even the Episcopal church on the corner of Highway 214 and Carrs Wharf Road, less than a mile from our houseboat, was St. Andrew the Fisherman.

The boats stay moored near the shore but come fully equipped, like the Ark's sitting room.( - Fisherman's Dock)

Near Sam's I noticed a store that had a bunch of nets out front. The woman inside the Peninsula Farms bait shop was selling tomatoes and crabs. There was some fishing tackle on the wall but no poles. I asked her where I could get one and she pointed to a burly bearded fellow who was unloading a truck. "He will know," she said.