When I was working on this wooden boat in Port Townsend back in the late '80's, we hired this shipwright who was an amazing cat.
He was this slab of norwegian man with a youthful, ruddy face that pegged him at somewhere between 25 and 60. You absolutely couldn't tell - and he said very few words.
He showed up at the job with two huge pots and an old army backpack. His backpack contained all his bedding (minimal) and the contents of the pots were a stove setup (in one) and onions, potatoes and spices in the other.
Every week he would walk down to the local fish cannery and come back with a pot full of fish heads and parts,some onions and potatoes from the store, cook up a stew, and that's all he would eat all week. He worked 14 hour days, talked rarely and did impeccable work.
One day someone who recognized him showed up and tried to strike up a conversation:
"Last time I saw you 10 years ago, you had the same setup!"
"I have two pots now."
"You still live on that old tug anchored in Friday harbor?"
"Yup."
"Aren't you worried about being away from that old boat for a month?"
"My boat doesn't leak."
In the 4 weeks he was there, that was the most I ever heard him say. He would just sit on his bedding and watch the fire after a long day, then go to bed.
I bet he hasn't changed much.