The boat first appeared in late spring. With the battered economy, perhaps its owner had abandoned it, and it had drifted into the boat ramp harbor, and there it sat, mired in the mud. I thought the angle was kind of arresting, so I took a few pictures of it.
Over the next few weeks, with the tide coming in and out, it would re-float and move around. I ran into a few other guys on a regular basis, all of us exercising our dogs, and we wondered where it had come from.
Once, while walking the dogs on the rip rap outside the fence behind Encinal high school (above the water line in the photo, above) my dogs began growling and I was startled to find a homeless guy, wrapped in plastic, like that used as a bed liner in trucks, and holding on tight to his big dog. As we were practically on top of him, I said, “My dogs are friendly. Is yours?”
He had a brindle pit bull. “Sometimes,” he answered. Edie girl got close and his dog snapped and growled; I could see it took all his strength to hold his dog back as we passed by.
Soon after that we noticed a dingy tied up to the abandoned boat on occasion. It appeared that he had set up housekeeping at night on the boat.
His battered old bicycle would be chained to the fence and the dingy tied to the boat when he was there; otherwise the dingy would be tied up to the dock and the bike would be gone.
We avoided him after our one run-in, but I’d see him maybe a couple times a month this summer. I didn’t particularly like the way he yelled at his dog. But then, I don’t know if people yelled the same way at him, sometimes.
He appeared to be of Asian or Hispanic ancestry, and his hair was always matted and wild. He’d get on his bike, his dog on a chain, and ride off into the former naval air station.
The other dogwalkers and I wondered how long it would last–one of them felt the city of Alameda should send him packing. Then we noticed a light on the boat one morning. By law, when out of their marina, all boats are to have a light on at night. So someone had apparently told him that, if he was going to spend the night on board, he had to keep the boat lit.
So it was home, with a dock provided by the city. A few times the boat had moved quite a distance; once this summer it was even up on the rip rap across the small harbor; we wondered how he had gotten it so far above the waterline.
The rainy season is coming now, winter. During a storm, with the tide in, I’ve seen the dock above buckling in the waves until planks broke loose. I’m not sure what he intends, come wintertime.
It makes me glad, though, to have a home, with a furnace, and electricity, and plumbing–and a wife with a pair of dogs and a sleepy cat all waiting for me, too.
Then we noticed a little dingy
I’m with you. Seeing how people on the fringes of society live makes me very thankful to not be amongst them. I’m glad he had a safe little place to sleep over the summer, but like you, I suspect it woudn’t be as safe in the winter storms.
We’re supposed to get high winds and rain on Tuesday, maybe. Wonder if he’ll stick it out?
Could it be floated out a bit and moored properly, somewhere sheltered, so it wouldn’t break loose in the winter storms? Otherwise I don’t like his chances. Or his dog’s.
How sad. Maybe it is the times, but I have begun to thank the Lord every day for simple things like a roof, AC, food, comfortable home, things I used to take for granted.
Well, the question of where he will spend the winter is answered: not on board.
We had a big storm last week, plenty of rain most mostly incredible wind, which I’ve meant to post about anyway (it blew down large branches, even toppling trees, and I’ve got some pic’s–but we also lost internet), and the next time I walked the dogs out by the boat ramp, we found the boat sunk. I took some pictures, but I can’t imbed them in a comment, so it’ll have to wait.
Anyway, he isn’t going to be bunking down there any more. I did see the bay during the storm, and it was very, very rough, so I can’t imagine he even tried to spend the night here.