So Dan would rather not anymore, and, really, who could blame him? Lately he had been feeling like a cockatoo on a cactus, anyway. Once you lose the hankerin' for anchorin', it's hard to keep showin' up every day. To make it work, you have to come in each morning with the passion of a fruit fly in a manure factory. Nope, the fire in the belly is gone. Time for new horizons, new adventures, like an orangutan in a bowling alley. Meet folks you haven't met afore. Oh, he could linger if he wished. He could leave his anchor...