A Whimsical Sausalito Houseboat Stars on ‘The Last Thing He Told Me’

In the book, Dave describes the residence as a “safe haven . . . complete with its wooden beams and bay windows, its storybook views.” The author was immediately drawn to Sausalito’s whimsical enclave of buoyant houses while visiting the area several years prior to writing the story. She told SFGate, “I love communities that are on the edge of the world in some way, I think they require something different of their inhabitants. And I fell in love with the Sausalito floating home community as soon as I saw it for the first time.”

Though the novel is set on the hamlet’s Issaquah Dock, for the show, filming shifted to the neighboring Liberty Dock, where producers selected a chestnut-hued shingled houseboat known as “Brown Sugar” to play the Michaels/Hall residence. Situated at the end of the L-shaped pier with glorious views of Richardson Bay and Belvedere Island, the quaint structure boasts two bedrooms and three baths in 1,841 square feet. Originally built in 1980, the pad last sold in 2007 for an unknown amount and is worth a whopping $1.7 million today (about $925 a square foot), according to Trulia.

Renovated twice in the years since, most recently in 2015 by Paige Loczi of San Francisco’s Loczi Design Group, the three-story property is a bohemian wonderland of bright colors, unique tilework and furnishings collected from around the world. (Photos here.)

Small but inviting, the vibrant common spaces include a living room, a dining room/workspace and an open kitchen, the latter fashioned with ashen-hued cabinetry, spirited wallpaper, stainless appliances and a custom porcelain tile mural. Exposed beams, floating vases and water views sublimely accent each room.

Comprising the owners’ suite, the lower level is half-submerged below sea level, “which keeps it about 30 degrees cooler than the rest of the home,” according to Houzz. As such, the space is equipped with “radiant floor heat throughout the hull.” The luxe retreat also features a walk-in shower and a double-height indoor-outdoor bathroom screened from the elements, complete with a Japanese soaking tub. 

The dwelling is part of a community of roughly 400 floating homes that bob along the shoreline of Richardson Bay. The unique neighborhood dates back to the mid-1940s when a 200-acre shipping yard situated in what is now Waldo Point Harbor shuttered following the end of World War II, leaving behind abandoned boats, scraps, machinery and all manner of ship-building ephemera. It didn’t take long for the public to notice. Sharon McDonnell of Roadtrippers writes, “People short on cash, but long on ingenuity, eagerly built living quarters atop maritime vessels. The homes were made from barges, Chinese junks, or even logs lashed together, using materials salvaged from cars, packing crates, railroad cars, and motor homes. Their creations were then linked to the piers by ramshackle wooden walkways. A tolerant landlord—a boatyard owner who liked to acquire old boats, including decommissioned ferries—charged little or no rent and often hired houseboaters. This helped the community grow, entirely unregulated.”

The enclave quickly became a haven for artists and free-thinkers alike and remained so for several decades. Just a few of the notables who lived or spent time on the premises include poet Shel Silverstein, “The Godfather” actor Sterling Hayden, “Farley” comic creator Phil Frank, singer Janis Joplin, artist Jean Varda, surrealist painter Gordon Onslow Ford, philosophical entertainer Alan Watts, actress Geraldine Page and Whole Earth Catalog founder Stewart Brand. And it was there, on a houseboat owned by concert promotor Bill Graham, that Otis Redding famously penned his hit song “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay” in the summer of 1967.

While haphazard and rickety, with many homes lacking electricity and appropriate sewage systems, the docks were by all accounts idyllic to those who called them home. The area was not without its detractors, though. City officials had their eye on the community and its prime real estate since its inception, repeatedly targeting it for rehabilitation, resulting in a battle between houseboat dwellers and local government that lasted several decades, often breaking out in violence and all-out turf wars. 

The late 1970s and early 1980s saw the construction of a set of “new county-approved luxury piers” throughout the community and a slew of large, fashionable floating properties followed, creating a diverse array of architecture along the waterway. As more and more modern houseboats popped up, the OG dwellers, now working under the collective “Gates Cooperative,” remained steadfast in their refusal to leave, regardless of the many lawsuits, eviction notices and tear-down appeals that came their way. SFGate details, “In 1992, the legal battle came to an end when a jury finally decided the residents could stay in the harbor if they built a new dock and brought all the residences up to code.” That process took 12 years to complete and “despite the legal win, many old-timers left the bay; the number of barges in the Gates Co-op dwindled from 115 to 38.”

Today, Waldo Point Harbor denizens represent a varied and eclectic group. In spite of inhabitants’ perceived differences, though, the neighborhood is a true community, with homeowners never failing to look out for one another or lend a helping hand. As resident Henry Baer told Smithsonian Magazine, “There are people on welfare, there are millionaires, there are outstanding artists, there are computer whizzes. I’ve lived in apartment buildings with 20 units; maybe you know your next-door neighbor because you meet them at the mailbox. Here, walking to and from your boat, you meet half the people on the dock. Yes, we all come from diverse economic backgrounds. But when there’s a problem, everybody comes out and helps one another.”

Sausalito Historical Society president Larry Clinton, who also calls the docks home, furthered that sentiment, telling the Smithsonian, “It’s not something we indoctrinate people about. We don’t put people through an orientation when they move here. They just get it. It’s the most amazing phenomenon of self-help in a community that I’ve encountered.”

The picturesque landscape proves a perfect backdrop for “The Last Thing He Told Me” as Hannah races to uncover the secrets surrounding Owen’s past, the water surrounding her houseboat nicely mirroring the deepness with which they are buried. 

The exterior of Brown Sugar features prominently throughout the series, though production designer Christopher Brown (of “Mad Men” and “Insecure” fame) gave the place a bit of a revamp prior to the shoot, refinishing the wood siding, installing a new front door and refashioning the second story with an altered façade. The adjustments changed the visage of the home considerably. It has also been repainted post-shoot, revising its onscreen look even more drastically, but, for the most part, it remains recognizable. 

Only the exterior of the residence appears in “The Last Thing He Told Me.” Inside scenes were captured on a set crafted inside of a soundstage at the Fox Studio Lot in Culver City. Loosely based on the houseboat’s actual interior, Brown’s design is more muted and toned down than the real thing and, unfortunately for Hannah, lacks a re-creation of that fabulous Japanese soaking tub.