The Anchor Tavern has stood at the bottom of Harbor Street, on the inland side, since 1947, and not much has changed. The bar is long mahogany with brass details and a rail along the front; the floor is wide pine boards worn smooth from years of mopping; a salt-faded mirror hangs behind the taps. The front windows look out on the marina and the gas dock.

 

At lunch it fills with regulars , an old-timer at the end of the bar nursing an argument about a decades-old Dodgers trade, a good bowl of chowder from the kitchen pass-through, and Lou behind the bar, who knows exactly who you are before you say so.