We’ve been getting a lot of questions lately about what it’s like living on a boat. So we thought we’d address this question directly.
The short answer: it’s wonderful. The old cliché “A bad day on a boat is better than a good day in the office” certainly applies for us… especially since both of us still go to an office.
Let’s begin by stating that we fully understand that this lifestyle definitely isn’t for everyone. It’s not even for most people. We are not here to sell the world on living like this. We are simply explaining why we love it.
So what kind of person lives on a boat?
Well, a good look around our harbor will identify four distinct types of people. We are confident in these gross generalities, as we have a large cross-section of neighbors to generalize with. Our marina is slightly unique: 50% of the berths 35 feet and over are liveaboard slips. That’s an unusually high number. Many marinas limit liveaboard availability to about 10% of their slip inventory and most don’t allow liveaboards at all.
But with this many neighbors to consider, we feel we have a handle on it. We’ve chosen to pigeon-hole everyone into one of four groups. For clarity, we are only referring to those who use their boats as a primary residence and live aboard full-time. We are not including power-boaters, day-sailors, fishermen, power cruisers, weekend warriors, family campers, or anyone else on the dock who has an established shore-side life.
The Cheapie Leaky
These people make up a small cross section of our liveaboard community. As you may have heard, California has a huge affordable housing crisis on their hands and many people are simply RFLs (Renters For Life) and never plan to own an $800,000, 900 square foot, 2 bedroom, 1 bath bungalow in town. This opens up our first live-aboard type: those that live on a boat because it’s simply more affordable than renting or owning shore-side.
We have both been in real estate for years, so we are sympathetic to this issue, however, we don’t particularly care for these live-aboarders. Not because they are poor or bad people or any such nonsense (many are great neighbors), but because they simply have no passion for boating. There tends to be little pride of ownership with this group. They buy cheap, sometime derelict, boats. They don’t appreciate the lifestyle, and therefore, don’t love or take care of their boats. They know nothing of boating and aren’t interested in learning. When we were in Marina Del Ray a few years ago, we had a one of these on our dock. He was an “actor” or “dancer” or some such thing — obviously waiting for his “big break” in Hollywood. In the mean time, his boat had a blue tarp over it and listed down to the starboard bow. We expected it to sink one day. He was never around to know and probably wouldn’t have cared because he had little invested in it and had more important (to him) things going on in his life.
The 35 foot minimum requirement in our current marina keeps the costs high enough that we don’t currently have issues on our dock with cheapie leakies, which is good. While we understand and are sympathetic towards the reasoning for their choices, their lack of passion for boating offends us, as we are here because we want to be and because we love big boats and we cannot lie. Did you sing that last part?
The Counter-Culture Cretan
These guys are few and far between, but they do exist – there’s usually one on every dock. These guys are the societal outcasts. They live aboard because they see things differently than most of society and are ready to depart at a moments notice, although they never actually go anywhere — be it for armageddon or just a day sail. They believe the government is going to seize their boat and all their stuff, so they “prep” with fight or flight fervor: defending their shitty old boat and all their crap is paramount.
These guys primarily keep a low profile, and not always by choice, as not everyone around them is very forgiving of their constant need for conspiracies and odd conversation. They are usually ostracized as odd-balls in the neighborhood and often keep to themselves.
The Boating Loving Purist
This is the largest group in the community. These people just love boats and love living in the marina. They are highly knowledgeable about all things boat related and keep a finger on the pulse of the community.
They know a lot about the history of the area, the best places to anchor, weather patterns of the season, who delivers pizza to the marina, and where the best happy hour is. They make great neighbors, although they can sometimes be a bit over bearing, as they are always around. They just love being on the water and the marina life. They rarely take their boat out and have no plans of ever leaving, as they are “home” right where they are. The people in this group really make our community a community.
The Cruise-Craving Captains
This is our group and makes up the second largest group in the community. These people have forsaken shore life and committed to getting ready to sail off to distant shores. These people are in pre-cruise mode and are counting down to the time when they will untie from the dock one last time and sail off over the horizon to a life of new adventures. They usually have a few years left of needing shore ties, mainly due to working or being almost done raising kids — the finish line so close they can smell it. We’re in the latter portion-waiting for the offspring to turn 18 and take flight so that we can sail off on “our time.”
This time (during which patience is a virtue) is best spent fixing, upgrading, sea-trialing, and learning all the nooks and crannies on their boats.
For these folks, it’s all about keeping the dream alive until that intrepid day when their preparations are complete and their big adventure begins.
What’s it like living aboard?
First, we have to identify that there is a big difference between cruising and living aboard. When cruising, you are in “Go” mode, with new anchorages, new towns, and new weather regularly appearing on the horizon. Cruising is a lifestyle of travel and adventure. Life is spent moving the boat and exploring new destinations.
Living aboard is simply having your home in a boat instead of a house. The marina is your street. The other boats your neighbors. The view is infinitely better. With living on a boat, there’s always a view… a gorgeous, wonderful view.
Add in that your home is floating, sailing, gliding across the ocean, and yet you have all the luxuries of home (we are adamant that we are not “camping” and demand a high quality of life in our floating home). Technically we are always home, wherever we are. Last weekend we cruised up to Santa Barbara, yet when we got there, we were still home, albeit in a much more beautiful locale.
And yet living aboard somehow feels like an extended vacation with the nuances of a home ownership — including but definitely not limited to — unexpected maintenance or repair costs.
In the middle of December, our little 5000 KW, diesel fired, forced-air heater went out. On a boat, self-sufficiency is paramount. It’s not like we can just call an HVAC technician or handyman to come over and diagnose our issue. After a few hundred dollars in repairs and a secondary failure, we discovered a stupid error, originally resulting from our fuel issues, that had been causing a failure within the system. Lesson learned and we again have wonderful, dry heat and keep the night-time cabin temperature at a luxurious 73°F again!
Like in a house, our home has similar carpentry, electrics, plumbing, HVAC, refrigeration, etc., etc. systems that any house has. Add in navigation systems, an engine, fuel systems, rigging, sails, safety gear, and more, and you can quickly see that a boat becomes a much more complicated thing. Self-sufficiency is important, and these simple luxuries make a big difference for us, the cruise craving captains.