This end faces the road. I got as far back as I could without falling into the marsh. There's that lean-to. The odd vertical thing is an electrical hook-up pole, but it's been disconnected. From this angle she looks almost like she must have when afloat.
Nothing is plumb anymore, it's a drunken boat.
You see them only rarely now, mostly abandoned or beached as something out of the past for tourists to gawk at - rudely made floating shacks barely big enough to turn around in atop a hull shaped like a sled. They were weatherproof snugly fitted with stoves and bunks. Towed behind workboats to fishing grounds, watermen often put the sturdy little arks ashore dragging them up sandy banks and securing them above the high water mark. Along the winter fishing grounds surrounding Kent Island to the great spawning areas running from Worton Point to Turkey Point the shanties lie clustered like antique versions of the recreational vehicle parks we know today. Made extinct by cars and paved roads only a handful nowadays can be found - pieces of history splintering into obsolescence.