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Sleeping with the Fishes: Life as a Live-Aboard |
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| There are those out there with the sea in their bones. Men and women who live the transient life. Romantic, modern-day nomads who explore the world from hull and helm. Staying in exotic ports of call with names easily mangled by the English tongue. They spend their lives amongst a cast of colorful rogues, downing cool drinks in turquoise waters. Their hardy vessels rest on the hook (anchor) just offshore. Their skin is tan, their hair is salty and their lips spill forth adventure. Then reality sets in. And they have to figure out how to pack the contents of their home into 300 square feet of cabin space. Living aboard a boat is not without a significant, sometimes dangerous, degree of challenge. Romance fades with the first six- to eight-foot sea or toilet malfunction. And it takes a particular type of person to truly enjoy what can often be a cramped, merciless and unrelentingly unpredictable state of affairs. Mark Nichols, author of The Essentials of Living Aboard A Boat; The Definitive Guide for Liveaboards, places liveaboards into two categories, “cruising” and “non-cruising.” Non-cruisers are primarily located at a slip and leave for short excursions while cruisers are “chronically underway.” Definitions which seem to be as open and broad as the oceans themselves. Liveaboards are not an exact science. They are retirees and dreamers, smugglers and outlaws. They can be hell bent on adventure or simply wish to leave society behind. They can be rusting deadbeats or sunny-eyed “guppie-kissers.” (sea slang for “tree-huggers”). They can be travel enthusiasts, relationship escape artists or just want to pay less cash for a water view. But one thing remains steadfast, in broad terms or concise, if one is to have any longevity living on a boat he must be practical, because, on the ocean, facts trump dreams every time. Boats constantly depreciate. They make noise. They smell of fuel, waste and sea. Condensation is a constant problem. Insulation is nearly non-existent. Clothing and bedding get damp. Stoves usually only have one burner and galleys have practically no refrigeration. Space is severely limited. Clutter is a safety issue. There is always something to repair; sometimes it’s your very life hinging on ingenious solutions. There is safety gear to consider and marina facilities to mull over—Georgia doesn’t even allow liveaboards past 30 days and South Carolina amended a law in 2006 whereby boats are now “subject to property tax in this state if present for 120 consecutive days or 180 days in the aggregate in a property tax year.” What about children? The coming storm? Stores of fresh water? And that’s just the tip of the iceberg… of which one must also possess the knowledge and capability of avoiding when traveling at sea. Down at the marina, where numerous vessels lie gently at the dock and a steady breeze rings the rigging off the mainmast, a unique person might be residing below decks, doing his or her best to earn passage in life. And telling tales of adventure.
Greg and Kaytee Esser Go to Shelter Cove, past the statue of Neptune, over the Disney bridge, and you will find Kaytee and Greg Esser on their boat, Rachael. Kaytee will likely be painting on the fly bridge—her art studio, where vibrantly colored canvases of oil-painted dogs line the white leather seats. Two easels hold her latest portraits: Sasha, the golden retriever who lives on their dock and Miller, a retriever from the Chesapeake Bay who is deceased. With her impressive collection, it’s easy to overlook the picturesque 360-degree view of the Harbour. Greg, a man whose most adored possessions (aside from Kaytee and Rachael) are jeans and t-shirts (although occasionally he must don a suit and tie), can be found tinkering with the engines below or listening to slow jazz on XM radio. Depending on the time of day, the Essers may be entertaining guests in the trunk cabin or preparing something savory in the galley kitchen with their famed crockpot, which puts out aromas known to lure neighbors out of their boats and over to Rachael for dinner. Or, sometimes they’ll venture out on the dingy to their favorite restaurant, The Ocean Grille, where they like to eat and have a glass of wine while looking over the marina. At 43 feet long with a 14-foot beam, Rachael is an Ocean Alexander, a trawler, twin trunk cabin. Unlike sailboats, the ceilings in the cabin are quite high, six-feet-six-inches tall, and a dozen windows give way to loads of natural light. Among its many amenities, the boat boasts two comfortable bedrooms, two full bathrooms and two flat-screen TVs that are rarely watched. The couple semi-retired five years ago and moved from their condo on the Ashley River in Charleston to live on Rachael. At the time, Kaytee knew very little about boats, but this was Greg’s hobby and she was ready for the adventure. Like the select few on Hilton Head Island who have chosen to live on their boats, the Essers see themselves as part of a larger “boat culture,” a society that has lifted the weighty anchor of excessive materialism in order to bask in the ease and simplicity of life aquatic. “Watching the dolphins playing, watching the sunsets—you see the world from such a different perspective altogether that it’s worthwhile,” said Kaytee. Name: Kaytee Esser Name: Greg Esser Q. How long have you lived on a boat? Q. What is the name of your boat? Q. Where is your boat docked? Q. What is the best part of living on a boat? Q. What is your least favorite part about living on a boat: Q. How many years do you foresee yourself living on a boat? Q. Do you have cable or satellite? Q. Do you have a pet? Q. What do you do when a storm is headed our way? Q. What other ports of call have you been docked in for extended periods of Q. How often do you take your boat out on the water? *Q. * What are your hobbies? Q. Do you decorate your boat for Christmas? Q. Boat horror story?
Jaime Glynn For an outdoorsy type of guy, there’s no better place to live than, well, outdoors. And Jaime Glynn is definitely the outdoor type. He spends much of his free time mountain biking and fishing and loves the solitary vibe of boat-living—likely because he became accustomed to water life while growing up in Upstate New York. “My parents had a boat. I spent weekends on Lake George growing up,” Glynn said. Aquatic life would catch up with Glynn again years later. Although he has only been on his current boat for about two years, it’s the second time he has claimed the sea as his residence. When Glynn was 28 years old, he lived on a boat for five years before he sold it and moved back on land. Now that he’s settled into his current boat in Shelter Cove Harbour, he has a pretty ideal set-up. Only a few short minutes’ walk to his job as executive chef at the Kingfisher, living in the harbour has provided him with his own built-in society. “I have friends who live in the harbour,” Glynn said. “It’s like a community within a community.” Name: Jaime Glynn Q. How long have you lived on a boat? Q. What’s your boat’s name? Q. Where’s your boat docked? Q. What’s the best part of living on a boat? Q. What’s your least favorite thing about living on a boat? Q. How many years do you foresee yourself living on a boat? Q. Do you have cable or satellite? Q. Do you have any pets? Q. What do you do during storms? Q. What other ports of call have you been docked in for extended periods of time? Q. How often do you take your boat out on the water? Q. What are your hobbies? Q. Do you decorate for Christmas? Q. Boat horror story?
Fred Gauch Fred Gauch lives a Crosbian life (as in David Crosby minus the addictions). To know him is to know that he is both a musician and a sailor. He resides on his 35-foot ocean-rigged Hunter sailboat in Skull Creek, and many of his days are spent voyaging up and down the East Coast performing with his band, Melody Makers. “It’s just a nice free lifestyle for me. It’s not for everybody,” Gauch said. The band has been around since the late ’60s and is widely known for the hit song “Everlasting Love,” which made the Top 10 East Coast Billboard Magazine poll in 1969, and their national hit, “Oreo Party Song.” Their music is a mixture of old time rock and roll, Carolina beach music and a little bit of new country sound. Gauch practices most weekends when he’s not doing gigs at beach music festivals, weddings and corporate functions. But he does have one free weekend a month that he tries to savor. A lot of times his friends will come over and they’ll go sailing and have a few drinks on the boat or maybe a barbeque. Gauch’s boat, The Princess of Tides, has all of the amenities he needs for entertaining guests and sailing away into the sunset: GPS tracking, autopilot, two berths, a shower, a fully-equipped galley kitchen, a dining area and couch, central heat, and a flat screen TV. Up on deck, there is a rear cockpit with lots of space for gatherings. “You have to have just what you need to get by,” he said. Being docked in Skull Creek, Gauch loves the quick access he has to the sound at any time of day. Often, he’ll troll around after dinner and take in the quiet, a “Shadow Captain” in his own right. Check out Melody Makers at www.melodymakerssc.com. Name: Fred Gauch Q. How long have you lived on a boat? Q. What is the name of your boat? Q. Where is it docked? Q. What is the best part of living on a boat? Q. What is your least favorite thing about living on a boat? Q. How long do you foresee yourself living on a boat? Q. Do you have cable or a satellite? Q. Do you have a pet? Q. What do you do when a storm is headed our way? Q. How often do you take your boat out on the water? Q. What are your hobbies? Q. Do you decorate your boat for Christmas? Q. Boat horror story?
John Barlow and Jana Saidl He plays rugby. She’s a black belt in karate. Their pit bull has a neck the size of an offensive lineman. But thirty-four-year-old John Barlow, Jana (pronounced Yana) Saidl and Elvis the dog are some of the friendliest creatures you could ever meet. Something happened for John after 9/11. His work in New York had begun to feel disconnected, cutthroat, soulless. In the next few years that followed, Manhattan began to feel more like a prison than an opportunity. Boating became John and Jana’s escape. “We started hanging around people that just wanted to have a barbecue and drink,” said John. His eyes go distant for a moment at the memory. He smiles. Although they knew The City didn’t feel like home anymore, it took John and Jana several years to decide where they wanted to live. They took their time, cruising up and down both sides of the U.S. by boat and car, searching for that perfect place. Jana was also a top level concierge in New York and John had his own business to think about. There was a lot to give up. And there was a lot to gain. In the fall of 2006, John and Jana finally arrived on Hilton Head Island. Today they own Lowcountry Liquor & Spirits, a successful package store in Bluffton. Their 38-ft. Bayliner, American Courage—A Tribute To 9/11, rests quietly, almost proudly, in Skull Creek Marina. And John feels like he has a soul again. “When you live on a boat, you have to simplify things. You tend to get rid of all your clutter,” he said, the metaphorical connotations whispering through the boat like the night breeze. “This is like Utopia. This is home.” Elvis, comfortably asleep, couldn’t agree more. Q. How long have you lived on your boat? Q. What’s the best part about living on a boat? Q. What’s your least favorite thing about living on a boat? Q. How many years do you foresee yourself living on a boat? Q. Do you have cable or a satellite? Q. What do you do when a storm is headed your way? Q. How often do you take your boat out on the water? Q. Do you decorate your boat for Christmas? Q. Boat horror story? |
