Moored neatly on the Retreat’s trout stream, the Angler’s Barge is half home, half haven.One end is Jules Maverick’s private world — a narrow cabin where boots line the floorboards, a piano waits for Chopin, and the air carries the faint perfume of polished reels and Bordeaux.

The other half is yours: a snug shop where fly rods stand like soldiers, reels gleam on the paneled walls, and jars of hand-tied flies promise whole afternoons of rising trout.Visitors linger not only to choose their tackle but to swap tales — of rivers in Montana, salmon in Scotland, or the one that got away just downstream.

It is not merely a store, but a place to pause, to listen to the water, and to remember that angling is as much about being as it is about catching.