MIAMI BEACH, Fla. — For Carlos Leon, living on a boat anchored off this posh seaside community, is the ideal lifestyle.
The weather is good, except for the occasional hurricane, and the water is inviting. During the COVID pandemic, he and his girlfriend, now wife, bought a 41-foot sailboat and anchored it in Biscayne Bay. “It’s like 400 feet, 500 feet from Miami Beach land,” he says. They share their floating home with a long-haired German Shepherd.
But, because of some new policies adopted by Miami Beach, for Leon and more than 100 other people who live on their boats, getting to land for shopping, work or just to take a walk, is no longer an easy proposition.
To step on land in Miami Beach, Leon says, “I have to bring my dinghy with a paddleboard, tow it 150 feet from land.” His wife takes the paddleboard and “me and my dog swim to the dock.”
Under an ordinance recently adopted by Miami Beach, Leon and the other liveaboard boaters can’t leave their dinghies or even their paddleboards at a city-owned boat launch or they’ll face a $1,000 fine.
This small community is anchored in state waters and legal, as long as they remain 150 feet offshore. Leon says. “Obviously, we have to have our tanks, our toilets, our anchors, anchor lights, everything, up to code. But if everything is up to code, we’re good. We’re legally here.”
But being legal isn’t the same thing as being welcome. For years, some in Miami Beach have not been happy about the small community boats just offshore.
In December, Miami Beach commissioner David Suarez spearheaded a move that cut off an essential lifeline for the liveaboard boaters.
At his urging, the commission voted to remove a public dock next to a supermarket. At the meeting he said, “I’m going to try to limit the amount of access that the people who live on these boats that come to the mainland. Because they can’t live on a boat forever. They have to come to the mainland to get food, water and necessary supplies.”
With their dock gone, liveaboard boaters began using a city-owned boat launch as a place to leave their dinghies while they picked up groceries or ran other errands. But the commission soon responded, banning dinghies and imposing a big fine for violators.
That’s made things difficult for the liveaboard boaters, Leon says, especially those who are elderly or not up to swimming 150 feet to the only place where they now can legally come ashore. “Every other area is illegal to use,” Leon says. “So, I’m becoming a criminal just to get to land.”
Suarez calls the liveaboards “boat squatters,” and in an interview said the regulations are “justified and necessary.”
Members of the West Avenue Neighborhood Association agree.
The group represents Miami Beach residents who live in the condominiums that line Biscayne Bay and look out on the community of live-aboard boaters. The association has raised concerns about pollution from boats that illegally dump their waste into the bay, about the damage their anchors cause to seagrass and about the cost of dealing with derelict vessels abandoned by their owners.
Susanna Purucker, a condo owner active with the group, says liveaboard boaters are enjoying the benefits of living in Miami Beach without the responsibilities. ”You’re not paying property taxes. You’re not paying to even keep your boat in the water. It’s just, if I can use the word, free-loading, because it is.”
The liveaboard boaters have formed their own group, the Miami Beach Boaters Association. Carlos Leon says they’re considering suing the city for what they believe is a violation of their civil rights. He says, what’s at stake is a whole way of life. “Because if we move, then Key West, Ft. Lauderdale, West Palm Beach, everybody’s going to say, ‘Okay, let’s follow what this guy did because it worked.’ And then, guess what? No boaters will be able to get to land,” Leon says.
Miami Beach is in talks with the state over plans for a mooring field for boats in the bay. Depending on how it’s done, it could bring regulation to the liveaboard community or it could be used to drive them away.
Copyright 2024 NPR
