Funky but threatened

All along, Carla Andrus' life seemed landlocked, literally and figuratively: She was born in Utah, raised in Watts and was scraping by in a tiny apartment near downtown L.A. when, one night, her husband came across a magazine ad for classic wooden boats being built in Marina del Rey. That, he told her -- teak decks, billowed sails -- looked more like the life he'd once fancied for himself.

"Well," she said, "load up the truck," and the words would amount to her salvation.

They moved onto a boat in Marina del Rey, the largest man-made pleasure boat harbor in the world and one of the great assets, and enigmas, of L.A. County's 75-mile coastline. After her divorce, she bought the 22-foot sailboat Seguin for $1,400 -- still the most cash she has ever held in her hands at any one time. As of today, Andrus has lived on a boat for half of her 55 years.

The life is not for everyone, Andrus acknowledges. When she stands up, her head brushes the weathered tarp that is her roof. Her bedroll consumes the entirety of the floor space, and when she lies down, her belongings are all within arm's reach: a tiny alarm clock, a tiny bottle of olive oil, three tiny houseplants. "I know the boat could use a couple things, maybe a little varnish," she said. "But to me, it's heaven."

It is a way of life that is under duress in Marina del Rey, where a building boom has added a layer of turmoil to a timeworn throwback.

More than a dozen development projects worth several billion dollars have been built or proposed -- projects that could add 3,000 apartments, as well as hundreds of hotel rooms and tens of thousands of square feet of restaurant and retail space, to an 800-acre area that has only 8,500 residents to begin with.

The tub-thumpers among them are lined up at the docks and pledging to do battle: "live-aboards" like Andrus, boaters, old-timers alarmed to see their local diner closed to make room for "mixed-use" construction. Most, however, say it would be an oversimplification, even a falsehood, to give them the usual no-growth labels.

Instead, they contend, the trouble is that government regulators have forgotten that the marina was built on public land for public recreation. The county earns rent from the businesses that lease the waterfront -- and, cash-strapped, has become intent on maximizing profit.