For the self-proclaimed "escapees from society" who live there, Leeward Bay Marina is a perfect hideaway: a nest of mostly old boats bobbing over a toxic hot spot in the nation's busiest harbor complex.
Hidden by a hectic maze of trains and cranes, big rigs and refineries, the marina offers solitude, as well as shelter, to dozens of "live-aboards" who make their homes above the fouled waters at the mouth of a flood control channel.
"Ah, Leeward Bay," locals like to say with a laugh. "Where the sewer meets the sea."
That joke pretty much sums up the dual nature of the Wilmington facility. It can be ugly but oddly beautiful, dogged by despair but buoyed by hope. The marina's residents share a camaraderie. "Everybody knows everybody else's business," said resident Marc Greenwald. But sometimes they just want to be left alone.
Awash in bad debt, lost jobs and lost weekends, the residents -- retirees, disabled veterans, shut-ins, runaways, ex-cons, day workers and a few sex offenders -- have come to view Leeward Bay and its listing watering hole, the Chowder Barge, as their isle of dreams.
"Look around," said 11-year marina resident Vernon Lovelace, who owns a scuffed-up little workboat named Indigent. "The only things holding up some of these boats are good luck and paint. But you can live pretty good here on $800 a month. It's not a great life, but it's comfortable. A lot of these people have no place else to go."
At certain times of day, when looking in certain directions, Leeward Bay offers glimpses of a glassy dawn or radiant sunset streaming between swaying masts. There are endless days of mellow rocking, nights aglow with industrial lights and down-home gatherings at the Chowder Barge, where regulars carry on about funny boater mishaps and old times. Or the occasional tragedy. They talk about the man who fell into the water last year and drowned a few yards from his boat.
Not all the tenants are down on their luck. Some sail magnificent vessels, which they dock at Leeward Bay because of its relatively low monthly slip rates of about $10 per foot, well below the $15 charged elsewhere in the harbor. The marina is composed of boat slips jutting from shore, along with others attached to a nearby floating dock anchored in the Dominguez Channel. The facility has been in Robert Perel's family for 50 years.
"I get the craziest of the crazies," said Perel. "And I have a soft spot in my heart for them. I feel as comfortable here as I do at home on the Westside of Los Angeles."
