CHAPTER FIVE
The Anchor Bay Restaurant sits out near the end of the Santa Barbara wharf, most of it hangs out like an aircraft carrier's forward deck over the water. The view is of the Yacht Club and the opening to the breakwater. If the Table Captain thinks you look important enough and you're prepared to wait a bit after tipping, you get a window table where you can watch the lights dancing across the water, the sun setting behind the blue-gray shrouded Channel Islands, and at certain times of the year... the moon rising like a ripe pumpkin over the Santa Ynez mountains.
Friday night is the worst evening to get reservations; Saturdays are almost as bad. To walk in on one of these nights with no reservations at all is tantamount to dropping in unexpectedly for a chat, tea and tiffin wit
