Bonnie Raitt croons a bluesy tune on the CD player. Harrison's bottle-nosed motorboat bobs on the tide, and two sweaty cans of soda glisten on a table. As Harrison and her guests gossip good-naturedly about a neighbor across the inlet, Jim Tozzo of Montvale paddles by in a kayak. Tozzo, owner of the Emerson Hotel, exchanges pleasantries, continues on to his Teal Lane home, and hoists himself onto a dock decorated with a wooden pelican and a satellite dish. There's little unused space among the homes and pebble driveways, but Tozzo's wife, Marie, has found enough for a thriving garden of tomatoes, cucumbers, and green peppers.
People get friendlier down here.
They wave to you. They're the kind of people who say, 'Come on over. Grumbling about the rules, of course, is itself a tradition. On one recent afternoon, a Mercedes-Benz puttered by as wet towels flapped on a clothesline. The houses haven't changed much.