In 1958, Onslow‑Ford leased his side of the ferry to David Cole for an art gallery, which remained on board for about three years, "a beautiful gallery, memorable paintings were shown there, things museums are just now catching up with." Then, in 1961, he leased his two‑thirds of the ferry to Alan Watts. philosopher, writer, guru and founder of the Society  for Comparative Philosophy, a forerunner of the humanistic movement which would sweep the '60's the consciousness raising decade. "He bridged the gap between Eastern and Western philosophies," said Onslow‑Ford. "I sat at his feet and learned about Buddhism. He was a great scholar, and he had a big influence on young people. Basically ‑he gave them permission to do their own thing." Eventually Onslow‑Ford would transfer his ownership in the ferry to Watts with whom he had been friends for many years.

Watts and his wife Jano moved on board and their side of the ferry became the antithesis of the chaotic and colorful decor at the other end; white walls, an altar and a bronze Buddha, Oriental rugs on the split levels where cars had once rolled on board, and open spaces for seminars. "Varda's side was all color and everything going on:' said Jano, "while ours was pristine ‑ a simplicity ‑ but it wasn't a temple or anything, there was no solemnity and hush‑hush. It was a joyful place."

And there Watts wrote books, and held seminars and introduced ideas new at the time ‑ human potential, sensory awareness, mysticism. He held séances and explored the occult, hosted philosophers, writers and the foremost thinkers of the time. Yet, Watts was not solemn or awesome ‑"He brought joy and play into religion:' said Marion.

The philosopher with the deceptively severe manner became fast friends with the seemingly opposite rambunctious and spontaneous Varda. They sawed a door between the two sides to assure an easy flow of communication, people and ideas. Watts, also a gourmet cook, became co‑host at Varda's already famous lunches. And thus life went along on board Vallejo for nearly another decade. The ferryboat, always a gathering place, became a center for religious exploration, the austere and the rollicking having neatly merged.

With all this going on, who had time to maintain an old ferry? The exterior paint peeled. One of the young men living aboard made an attempt to paint it. "Fine," said Varda. "Let him paint it. He will soon find out how big she is:" And so he did, and soon it was the end of the painting project. The axles of the paddlewheels began to sag, and the yellow stack gave way to rust. Tiltings from the additions became more prominent. "Yet, if she was in rags:' said Onslow‑Ford, "they were magnificent rags." Pennants flew from the gangways, and the bright Cythera sailed every Sunday, Varda in elegant attire, surrounded with women and wine. Jano installed a garden and patio on the front deck. It was not until later that grass would grow between the deck planks and .weeds would creep along the house sides, and pigeons would roost in the axles of the old paddlewheels.

But. time goes on, time which changes everything, and all too soon the moving forces of the unique lifestyle on board Vallejo were gone. In 1971, at age 77, Jean Varda died unexpectedly of a heart attack in Mexico City. With sorrow, his many friends scattered his ashes over San Francisco Bay from his beloved Cythera. Soon after, Marion moved into the quarters that had been Varda's. "An inner music said I should come here," said Marion. "I felt this was here I should be. I saw more to Varda than all that partying ‑ I'm interested in what makes people able to achieve living in a highly creative way."

And two years later, in 1973, Watts also' died unexpectedly. It's been said that the mystic simply went on an astral trip and never came back, and many feel that his spirit still resides on board Vallejo. Watts had transfered his ownership of the ferry to the Society for Comparative Philosophy, and for the next few years the Society held seminars and meetings on board. In 1981, Marion, who then had lived aboard for ten years, made arrangements with the Society to purchase Vallejo.

And what of the ferryboat's future? Marion explains in her own way; "Ownership of this boat with its great historic and spiritual meaning to so many is something I see as a guardianship. The spirit the boat has engendered cannot be bought or sold and should belong to the community. I hope she will continue to be the home of remarkable people and ideas, and I wish her to serve the creative and artistic needs of Sausalito and the Bay Area." And what of the monumental restoration job that faces Marion and the friends of the Vallejo? "We Vill accomplish the restoration of the Vallejo, not to her original days as a ferryboat, but as a center for creating, coming together and remembering that part of ourselves that is joyous. We want her to look beautiful again ‑ and we want her to enjoy a hundred more years of joy and service to the community."

This then, is the optimistic outlook of the ferryboat's new "guardian." Will the gangway be restored, the pennants fly again, the smokestack shine a proud yellow, the rust and weathered wood be van­quished? It will take more resources than those available to Marion standing alone. Let us hope that an infusion of new energy, the enthusiasm of the community, and help from the "playful gods, the ones that hang around here" will be enough to keep alive this, the oldest of the ferries in Sausalito, the venerable ferryboat Vallejo.