I never expected that playing music with a friend in college would lead me to one of the most extraordinary places I've ever known.
In my junior year of college, I started playing with my friend and musical partner, Leverett Wharton. A few months later, Lev invited me to move in with him at his family's old Victorian house in Jamestown, Rhode Island.
The house, known as the “Captain’s House”, sat just behind the family shipyard. It was shingled inside and out, with fireplaces in every room and walls lined with old books. One winter evening, Lev invited me out to stay overnight. There was a fire in the living room, and as we sat playing our guitars, I could watch the snow falling softly over Narragansett Bay.
I asked, “This is where you want me to live? How much?”
“Nothing. No rent.”
That pretty much settled it.
We still went to classes at the University of Rhode Island, but we also worked in the shipyard, doing things I had never imagined I'd be doing—wet-sanding and painting old wooden boats and even standing waist-deep in freezing water repairing the launch tracks.
One of the perks was access to the family's sailboats. Lev, an experienced sailor, taught me to sail.
We'd sometimes sail out to Clingstone built in 1904-1905 by Lev’s great-grandfather, J.S. Lovering Wharton, the remarkable old house sat on a cluster of rocks in Narragansett Bay completely surrounded by water. There was no electricity or running water. The house was lit by candles, and rainwater was collected from the roof.
In the evening, sitting on the deck listening to the sounds of the buoy bells and seagulls, Lev would tell me stories about growing up around the Newport Folk Festival. His family had hosted at least one gathering at Clingstone after the festival, with musicians including Joan Baez, John Hammond, Eric von Schmidt and Jim Kweskin and his jug band including Jeff and Maria Muldaur.
