Life on the water: Fresh sea air, microwave meals

Originally published Saturday, May 1, 1999

By JON HAHN  
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER COLUMNIST

What you see at sea level at Shilshole Bay Marina is a whole lot more up close and personal than the picture postcard views from Sunset Hill up above.

"If you're a live-aboard, you try not to have a live-aboard as a next-door neighbor because it's like living in a fish bowl!" said Wayne Espy, who's lived aboard his San Juan 28 sailboat at Shilshole for about seven years.

The 54-year-old Boeing computer analyst and Whiskey, his Seattle Animal Shelter-rescued cat, make their home aboard "Deux Pecches" at the far end of the "S" dock, which is about even with Northwest 77th Street on the high-and-dry land across the railroad tracks.

The trains passing all hours of the day and night aren't nearly as disconcerting as the noises you and your other live-aboard neighbors try not to share, Wayne said. Luckily, the 300-odd live-aboards are widely scattered on various types of vessels at the 1,500 moorages.

Wayne, who grew up kayaking near his home in Normandy Park, chose the live-aboard lifestyle here when he bailed out of eight years of college and computer work at Washington State University. "I had a small sailing dinghy there, but had to drive about an hour to put it in the Snake River."

He had an itch to return to Puget Sound and began looking at boats in Eastern Washington. "About the time I had a job offer from Boeing, I decided to buy this boat brand new," he said. "But, like most people, the only way you can afford a sailboat in Puget Sound is to call it 'home' as well."

And for the past 20 years, he's pretty much lived on the mildewed meadow of gently rolling vessels where vast horizons are traded for cramped living quarters. Live-aboards cast off their earthly ties by renting storage lockers and filling their cars with everything from cat litter to special marine head toilet paper. But for those like Wayne, who truly love to sail, the trade-off of living space for sailing space is a very deep, conscious decision.

When he finishes his 20-minute commute from work at the Boeing Field Development Center, Wayne said, "I can be out on the water in about 20 minutes and sail till sunset." At least once each month, he will sail Deux Pecches solo or with two or three crew as far south as Gig Harbor or as far north as Port Townsend.

And Whiskey has her own little acrylic A-frame penthouse, complete with pet door to the outer deck, fashioned over a forward hatch.

"When I first got her, she hid in the closet when we sailed. But after more than a year, she eventually learned to come out and enjoy sailing and the weather, especially on calm days," Wayne said.

Which makes her more of a sailor than "about 50 percent of the people who keep boats here and don't go out (sailing) more than about five times a year," Wayne said.

Wayne has been comfortable on the water ever since those Normandy Park kayaking days.

"I learned some water-safety stuff in Boy Scouts and much more when I was in a Sea Explorers ship that met at Redondo," he said. "In fact, when I came home from my freshman year at Washington State, I got a grounds-maintenance job up at Seahurst, and I could paddle around Three Tree Point, to and from work in the kayak all summer."

But it's a big leap over a lot of water from kayaks to live-aboard lifestyles.

"It costs about as much to live aboard, with moorage costs, boat payments and all the related costs for maintenance and storage of belongings on land, as it does to live in a small apartment," Wayne said. Shilshole live-aboards spend $200 to $300 monthly for moorage, plus additional fees for sewage and garbage disposal, utilities, etc.

"It's comparable to living in an 18-foot travel trailer," he said. Like live-aboards even on larger boats, Wayne cooks modest meals -- "I'm something of a microwave wizard" -- and prefers to shower at marina facilities ashore "because I don't like to get the boat all steamed up."

In winter, electric heaters fore and aft keep things relatively comfy, "as long as I remember to wear heavy socks," Wayne noted. In summer, too much heat isn't a problem "because you're sitting in water that is 40-some degrees and all you have to do is open some hatches if you want air circulation.

"If you need space, you move out into the cockpit. If you still feel like you need more space, you just untie the lines and go out on the water," he said matter-of-factly. Most of the time, there's enough wind to at least partially fill the mainsail and two jibs he usually sets. And there's a one-cylinder "Thumper" auxiliary engine to help out.

Before he could make Seaview Avenue Northwest his mailing address, Wayne lived aboard at a Lake Washington marina in the Columbia City neighborhood for several years. That oftentimes meant long waits for going through the locks for a decent day sail.

And the first time out in his new boat, following a race group off Port Madison, he and a novice-sailor friend managed to run his brand new 7,000-pound boat into a 50,000-pound sailing vessel. "I didn't even have insurance yet. It broke my mast and I had his bottom paint all over my deck, and the boat went right back to the factory and I spent a few weeks living with my sister," Wayne confessed.

He can't quite knock wood for good luck because there's none to speak of, topside. But he's had relatively smooth sailing since then. And considering that there's a waiting list of several hundred boat owners who would like his 30-foot moorage, he's not about to leave Shilshole anytime soon.

"Believe me, when I first got the boat I was what they call a 'moorage nomad,' going from place to place. I did the (moorage) 'Sub-lease Hop'" for a couple of years, and there were times, believe me, when I was this close to not knowing if I'd have to anchor-out for the night."