I was born in Torrance, and some of my fondest memories come from my early years in Redondo Beach. Even after my parents moved us to Bakersfield, the South Bay held a special place in my life. Still having family there meant we were always finding our way back for holidays, long weekends, and—most importantly—summers. I spent weeks at the beach every year, so thankful I got to escape the Bakersfield heat.
I spent most of my adult life in Bakersfield, raising my two children. The city’s only real advantage was its low cost of living. That affordability let me travel, give my kids experiences beyond the Central Valley, and return to the ocean whenever possible.
When my daughter was ten, I encouraged her to try out for the Junior Lifeguards program in Redondo Beach. It was grueling, but she pushed through, motivated by the promise of spending her summers on the sand with her cousins and my aunt. Those summers shaped her. The friendships she built made it harder and harder for her to return to Bakersfield each August. Eventually, I made her a promise: she could spend her senior year in the South Bay and graduate alongside her Junior Lifeguard friends.
By the summer of 2019—the summer before her junior year—it wasn’t just my daughter who couldn’t bear to go back; I felt it too. Determined to change our lives, I landed a job at Pavilions in Santa Monica and enrolled her in high school in Redondo. Taking that leap was something I had dreamed about for years. Since we couldn’t afford a place of our own yet, we leaned on family, grateful for the chance to finally pursue our shared dream of a life at the beach.
Discovering Marina del rey
Even though Redondo Beach and Santa Monica are only fifteen miles apart, the commute often stretched to more than an hour. One of my customers at the store invited me to visit his boat in Marina del Rey — conveniently located right in the middle of my daily drive.
That first visit changed everything.
The moment I stepped onto the dock, the frantic noise of Los Angeles faded into the background. On the water, there was no traffic, no chaos — only stillness. It felt magical, like I had stepped into another world. For a moment, I forgot I was even in LA. The peace helped me decompress after a long shift at work.
Despite all my years traveling through Los Angeles, I had never realized how vast Marina del Rey was or how much this hidden community had to offer. After that first visit, I didn’t want to leave. On my next day off, I returned and spent the entire day exploring. I borrowed a paddleboard and roamed through the quiet basins of the marina.
The Turning Point
Seeing how much I enjoyed the marina, my friend eventually gave me a key so I could stop by anytime to escape the gridlock. Since he lived near my store in Santa Monica and wasn’t at the boat often, it became my secret haven. When I had early morning shifts, he offered to let me stay overnight.
During those nights, I realized I wasn’t alone. I saw others sleeping on their boats — some living there full‑time. In the mornings, I got ready in the spotless new shore-side bathrooms, complete with private showers and a vanity.
Finally, I had to ask the question that had been burning in my mind: How much does it actually cost to live on a boat? I know asking about finances can be awkward, but I needed to know if this dream was viable.
A Revelation at the Docks
That was when he told me: his slip fee was only $1,000 a month. It was cheaper than rent anywhere else in Los Angeles, and for the first time, a life in the South Bay felt sustainable.
But first, I needed to buy a boat.
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