Strict rules, harsh winters push houseboats to brink

A government crackdown in the 1980s, tougher waste disposal rules and the building of waterfront residences where marinas once stood have helped push houseboat living on Long Island toward extinction.

All that remain are lone houseboats dotting the Island's coast and a few small houseboat colonies where owners cling to their life on the water.

It can be treacherous, especially in winter.

On Feb. 13, police believe, a houseboat owner in Manorhaven died after she slipped on an icy dock, struck her head and drowned. In January, a man was injured after he slipped from an Islip dock while checking on a houseboat and spent more than 30 minutes in frigid water.

Yet those who choose to live on the boats say they wouldn't trade it.

Like being on vacation

"There are people who work all year to spend a week or two on vacation living like I do," said Rich Pearce, 61, who with his wife Barbara enjoys sweeping views of Freeport's coastal marshes for a monthly dock rental and utility tab he put at under $1,000.

Inexpensive compared to waterfront homes, houseboats or barge homes - as those without engines are often called - were in abundance on the Island in the 1980s. Roughly 250 graced the Nassau coasts and Suffolk had a similar number.

Then concern over pollution, particularly its effect on shellfish, and anger that houseboat owners paid no property taxes but used municipal services, led to the imposition of strict new laws.

Island governments adopted waste discharge rules, moved to put houseboats on property rolls, required them to connect with municipal water systems and limited the number of consecutive days owners could occupy their vessels to make year-round residence difficult.

Nowadays, the largest houseboat colonies on Long Island are in Nassau. There are roughly 30 houseboats in Manorhaven, 20 in Freeport and another 30 in Seaford, according to town officials and boat owners.

In Suffolk, very few houseboats remain. Lorna Smith, manager of Treasure Cove Resort Marina in Riverhead, said she estimates there are roughly 10 barge houses left in Peconic Bay.

Houseboat owners said they do their best to comply, but there are those who don't adhere strictly to the law and might, for instance, skirt residency and waste discharge rules. It's understood, they said, that if houseboats don't draw complaints, local governments won't come after them.

"We love our little slice of heaven," said a 42-year-old South Shore houseboat owner who asked to go by her first name, Andrea. "And we'll abide by the keep-it-quiet rules."

Hempstead spokesman Mike Deery, echoing the position of other governments, said the town acts when a problem is brought to its attention, but does not target houseboats.

"It's a complaint-driven system" of regulation, Deery said.

Rob Weltner, president of the Freeport nonprofit Operation Splash, an environmental group, said houseboat owners are generally more conscious of following discharge rules than in the past.

"Most of them that we talked to recently, they understand," Weltner said, "and want to do the right thing."

Winters can be hard

Yet the combination of relative isolation and winter on the docks can mean trouble.

"The challenge is keeping a clear, safe path to and from your boat," said Jack Schleich, 73, who owns Travelers Marine Service in Freeport and has lived there on a converted construction barge for 15 years.

Like a regular homeowner, Schleich keeps a snow shovel and bag of salt by his door.

Though enduring winter on a houseboat can be hard - in addition to ice on docks many owners must pick up and deliver their own kerosene to keep the heat on - the season has its own charms.

Anthony, 53, a houseboat owner who asked that his last name not be used, pays between $1,300 to $1,500 a month in slip rental and utility bills for what he called a "million-dollar view" of Seaford's coast.

Pearce, the Freeport houseboat owner with the marsh view, agreed. Instead of summer boat traffic, mallards pass by outside. And at night, he said, the silence can be otherworldly.

"It's like living on the moon," Pearce said. "There's not a sound out here."