Waterbeds

"Kmart," he said. "Three lights that way. About the only place I know that might have a cane pole."

Even Kmart didn't have a pole. They had rods and reels and lots of crab nets but no cane poles. So I surrendered to what the area does have.

London Town, a short drive from the houseboat, is a lovely Colonial ferry port on the bay. Lost for decades to nature and neglect, it is being restored by architects and archaeologists. You can tour the 18th-century William Brown House, decked out as a tavern and residence, and poke around the gardens, woodlands and shoreline.

I checked out the pastel Adirondack chairs at Chesapeake Spas on Solomons Island Road and stopped at several roadside yard sales. Next time I plan to paddle out to the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center, a short glide from Fisherman's Dock.

The deck of the houseboat was so peaceful, I sat there and read until Jan was ready to go to supper. At Ellen's suggestion, we found a classic German restaurant, the Old Stein Inn, a few minutes away. We sat under lanterns strung across the beer garden and ate a plate of sausages and cheese while listening to the Heimat Echo Band -- bass, drums and accordion -- play polkas and drinking songs.

Still thinking about fish, I asked Lee, our waitress, about the catch of the day and she said there wasn't one. So I ordered chicken salad; Jan had delectable crab soup.

She turned in early. I stayed up and read some more and worked a crossword puzzle. Our little one-room houseboat rocked occasionally. The next morning we got up early and went canoeing. We slid one of the Croteaus' boats into the water and glided around the coves of Cadle Creek, just off the Rhode River, as the sun rose.

A mother duck and four ducklings beelined by us on the water. We saw an osprey and heard some geese. Something jumped in the water, reminding me of why I had come here in the first place.

The Croteaus have lots of boats, boccie balls and a gas grill visitors can use. I sat on the deck and watched as the sailors arrived and set sail.

The morning was leisurely. Shopping, finding a Starbucks, reading. We didn't make any phone calls. I didn't fire up the laptop.

Checkout time was 11. We left before that. On the way out of town we stopped for lunch at the Yellowfin Steak and Fish House, just across the South River Bridge in Edgewater.

I ordered a delicious-sounding sandwich and, when asked how I wanted it cooked, I said, "To perfection."

It was. And as I gazed out on the South River, I bit into the blackened tuna. It was juicy and well-seasoned. I had finally found what I came for. It tasted fishy.