Depending on who you ask, you will be told a version of the same story about the prospects of living aboard in Port San Luis:
It can't be done
Don't do it
There are no services
No one does it and you are the only crazy person to every think of doing it
The winter storms will either kill you or send your boat to the beach
Those are the polite responses, that didn't suggest my head is placed somewhere anatomically impossible or that Child Protective Services should come take our kids away and put them in protective custody! The fact that we have been comfortably living aboard here now for a month really can't be taken as an endorsement because in 6 months we may join the chorus of people telling us what a crazy idea it was to even try to live in Port San Luis. But after meeting some of the other Port San Luis live-a-boards, the idea is starting to seem a bit less crazy and actually starting to look like it just may work out. There is another kid boat family here and having them over for dinner a few nights ago made us feel right at home with the famous cruisers pot-lucks that we would throw all the time aboard THIRD DAY. They were filling us in on the ins and outs of the area and are a great family to have as neighbors. There is no doubt that this isn't marina living or even convenient living, but after 4 years of living at anchor in Mexico, the only thing different here is that when we get splashed on a wet dingy ride it's freezing cold rather than refreshing!
It's all about perspective. When you are dumb enough like me to not notice the hardships of living out on a mooring but rather focus on the positives it's easy not to dwell on the fact that I couldn't feel my fingers or toes this morning when I was returning to the boat after dropping off the kids at the Avila pier at 630AM to catch the school bus. Maybe if I was smarter, it would bother me that every time we leave our dingy at the floating dingy coral we have to climb up a 10ft barnacle encrusted ladder. Ok, on that one I am smarter. Jason drops us off and then HE has to climb up the ladder, but if Jason isn't with us, up the ladder we go as the tourists look on wondering what in the heck we are doing. From the looks in their eyes, they are hoping to see us slip and fall in the water, with their smart phones ready to snatch a video and post it on Youtube.
With no dock to tie up to, all our groceries and then trash is hand carried in our dingy back and forth from the boat, but that is what we have been doing in Mexico, so it's just part of everyday living for us and not a hardship. No dock also means no shore power or water, so just like in Mexico we are making all of our own power and water with our Solar panels, wind generator, Honda generator, and water maker. No dock also means no cable TV, but the kids have grown up without that, so what is there to miss besides doom and gloom? I know I shouldn't think it almost as much as I should post it, but I admit to smiling smugly at all the folks driving around in their feel good Toyota Pris' or Chevy Volts knowing that our carbon footprint while living on a boat on a bad day is a fraction of theirs. I see them everywhere here and I zip past them with my status symbol 1998 Honda CR-V with a NRA, Tea Party, and "My other Car is a Boat" bumper stickers on the back window.
While I couldn't recommend Crazy as a way of life for others, it sure seems to be working for me. But on the other hand, Lori and I were planning a trip to WalMart this afternoon, but now the wind is coming up so it looks like we will be stuck on the boat all day now with the kids gone and nothing [besides work and the to-do-list] to do. Crazy? On days like this I feel like the only sane person in the room, but I always wonder why everyone is staring at me. Ever since I started listening to them, I'm getting better at dealing with the voices in my head, whispering, "Don't do it Rich don't be normal" or "Rich, look over there a Taco Cart"
Crazy Cortez (and yes that is Fog in the background)
Then the day ends as it starts with color!