Sucia Island is the crown jewel of the San Juan Islands and of the entire marine state park system. It’s shaped like a welcoming hand—thumb to the north, fingers to the south—and has a surprising number of bays, each with its own personality. You can happily spend a week here, anchored in a different cove every night, hiking a different trail every day, eating every meal on a different beach.

Sucia Island State Park covers more than 500 acres. Hiking trails and dirt roads wander through forest, wetlands, and numerous sand and gravel beaches. The park has firepits, picnic tables and shelters, restrooms, and more than 50 campsites.

Among Sucia’s many attractions are its magical landforms. Small cobbles, dropped from the sandstone, have left behind a surface that resembles lace. Wind and wave have carved out pillars and caves.

For thousands of years these islands were Indian seal-hunting grounds. The present name was given in 1791 by the Eliza Expedition (sucia means “dirty” in Spanish), warning mariners of the island’s many rocks and shoals.

Sucia offers numerous beautiful anchorages for boaters to visit, including Fox Cove and the more protected Fossil Bay.

The steep shores of Sucia Island seem to have been sculpted by the sea.

Fox Cove

This cove on the southwest side of Sucia is protected by Little Sucia Island, though it is somewhat exposed to southwesterlies. Sunset views are lovely here, and the sculptured sandstone on the north beach is some of the finest on the island. At high tide you can see across the low isthmus to Fossil Bay.

Moorings and Anchorage
Four mooring buoys are set in a square pattern at the head of the cove. The southwest buoy is in deepest water, the northeast buoy shallowest. There’s room to anchor west of these buoys; to the east the bay shallows rapidly. Moorage fees are changed year-round.

Getting Ashore
All shoreline around Fox Cove is state park land. Little Sucia is closed to the public from January 1 to August 15 to protect nesting areas.

With two floats and plenty of buoys, Fossil Bay is easily the most popular anchorage on Sucia. The bay takes its name from the fossils found in the surrounding bluffs. Little Hernden Island once served as a “guest book” for Sucia, with visitors scrawling the names of their boats on its rock face. The practice is now prohibited, but some of the writing is still visible.

During summer, boats raft thickly, and the floats are cluttered with lawn chairs and barbecues. The west float is removed from October through April.

Moorings and Anchorage
Fossil Bay has two floats, each one about 100 feet long, one at the head and one across the entrance to Mud Bay. Depths are about the same on both sides of these floats, slightly shallower toward shore. Fifteen mooring buoys are set in two parallel lines, all in similar depths. Fees are changed year-round for use of buoys and floats.

There’s good anchorage southeast of these buoys.

All of Fossil Bay is less than 2 fathoms. Mud Bay, behind Hernden Island, dries at low tide.

Getting Ashore
All surrounding lands are state park.

Sailor, writer and teacher Migael Scherer, who divides her time between Seattle and Lopez Island, is the author of “A Cruising Guide to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands,” published by International Marine/McGraw-Hill. The guide can be purchased online through Armchair Sailor Books & Charts, Captain’s Nautical Supplies, Amazon and other retailers.

Moorings and Anchorage
In Mayo Cove, three state park mooring buoys parallel the sand spit. There is anchoring room and depth south and slightly west of the line of these buoys. The state park float in the inner harbor nearly dries at low tide. A fee box is at the head of the pier. Short-term moorage is also available at Lakebay Marina. Call ahead: 253.884.3350.

Take extra care navigating around Penrose Point, as two unmarked spits, peppered with rocks, extend west and north of the point.

On the south side of Penrose Point are five mooring buoys. Anchoring is good anywhere in this unnamed cove, but stay away from the pilings, which mark the edge of the shallows, and watch for the rock off Delano Beach. Both of these coves are exposed to northerlies.

Getting Ashore
Land at the park only, either side of Penrose Point. All other tidelands are private.  

Wonderful walks in the woods are just one of the attractions at Penrose.

For the Boat and Crew
The marina at Lakebay sells gas on Saturdays only; it’s best to call ahead (253.884.3350). The state park restrooms have showers but are closed from Labor Day to early April.

Things to Do
In Mayo Cove the park beaches are steep and rocky; the mud and sand are pocked with clam holes, and the seaweed hides tiny creatures—ideal conditions for beachcombing. South of the point, the beach is sandy; below the tideline, thousands of sand dollars, furred and reddish-brown, stand on end so closely they seem to be pushing each other over. Within the park are trails (including a “Touch of Nature” interpretive trail), picnic tables, shelters and fire pits. Wildlife includes deer, raccoon, owls, woodpeckers, herons and many migratory birds. Even black bear have been seen in the park.

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Sailor, writer and teacher Migael Scherer, who divides her time between Seattle and Lopez Island, is the author of “A Cruising Guide to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands,” published by International Marine/McGraw-Hill. The guide can be purchased online through Armchair Sailor Books & Charts, Captain’s Nautical Supplies, Amazon and other retailers.

Port Ludlow is one of the best anchorages in Puget Sound. It’s only about 24 miles from the large marinas of Seattle and Everett and is even closer to Kingston. The harbor is deep, with a mud bottom and an easy entrance, big enough to accommodate many boats and small enough to offer protection from any weather that may roar off nearby Foulweather Bluff.

During the mid- to late 1800s Port Ludlow was a major fishing port, filled with timber schooners and log booms, the air thick with the smoke and smell of the Pope and Talbot sawmill. The mill was shut down and dismantled around World War II. In the 1960s, Pope and Talbot built a resort community on the old town site, with a marina, golf course, pool and tennis courts. Today, condominiums spread north and a hotel stands on the point at the harbor entrance. The once silent and wooded inner harbor behind The Twins islands is now surrounded by private homes.

Moorings and Anchorage
Port Ludlow Marina is a popular destination for boaters and reservations are advised (360.437.0513). The marina is often booked a year in advance for three-day weekends. If you arrive without a reservation, tie to the fuel dock and check in there or at the marina office for a slip assignment. After hours, pull into a slip on the “A” float. Anchorage anywhere inside Port Ludlow is good.

The guest floats at Port Ludlow Marina.

Getting Ashore

The only public shore access is at the marina.

For the Boat and Crew
The fuel dock is on the east side of the marina. The marina office has a small store with supplies, gift items and some groceries. There are no repair facilities, but the office will call in a mechanic for you. A larger store is about a mile west on the highway. The marina has laundry, showers and a restaurant across the pond in the main building, with a pub downstairs. The Resort at Port Ludlow, next to the marina, has The Fireside Restaurant. Boaters moored at the marina have access to the tennis courts and an 18-hole golf course; shuttle service is provided.

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Sailor, writer and teacher Migael Scherer, who divides her time between Seattle and Lopez Island, is the author of “A Cruising Guide to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands,” published by International Marine/McGraw-Hill. The guide can be purchased online through Armchair Sailor Books & Charts, Captain’s Nautical Supplies, Amazon and other retailers.

Lopez Island, low and rolling, has long been a farming community. Its population is relatively small and all its shops and services are centered on Fisherman Bay. Most of the island’s large farms are slowly being parceled into vacation properties, but the rural spirit persists and people still wave to each other on the country roads.

Lagoon-like Fisherman Bay, halfway up the west side of Lopez, is the only anchorage on the island with a full range of boating facilities. There are two marinas with guest moorage, room for anchoring and restaurants within walking distance. A mile north is the commercial center of Lopez Village.

The entrance to Fisherman Bay is narrow and shallow, and the inside of the bay is charted at less than 2 fathoms. Boaters should study a detailed chart before entering and choose a rising tide with some margin for maneuvering. Be advised that anyone who runs aground here—a fairly common occurrence—does so in view of the town.

Moorings and Anchorage
Guest moorage is available at Islands Marine Center (IMC) and reservations are strongly recommended in summer (call 360.468.3377 or VHF Channel 69). The Lopez Islander Resort also offers moorage (for reservations, call 360.468.2233 or VHF Channel 78). All slips at both marinas have power and water.

Anchoring is good anywhere in the center of the bay, but it is less than 2 fathoms and may not be deep enough during a minus tide. Protection is good except in strong southerlies.

A boat at anchor in Fisherman Bay, near Lopez Village.

Getting Ashore
Both marinas have space for dinghies, though the IMC’s is limited; it’s fine to land at the IMC’s beach. The Galley Restaurant and Lounge, halfway down the bay on the east side, has a small float for customers. Public shore access is also at the street end east of entrance mark “4”, at the street end outside the entrance to Fisherman Bay, and at the spit and cove inside the spit (part of Fisherman Bay Preserve). All other piers and floats in the bay are private, as are the tidelands.

For the Boat and Crew
The Islander fuel dock is on the north side of the main pier, and there’s a store selling ice and snack items. Full marine repair services are available at IMC, which has a well-stocked marine store and also sells ice. IMC has showers for moorage customers only. Boaters moored at the Islander can use the resort’s showers, Jacuzzi, pool and laundry. There are also showers at the public restroom in Lopez Village.

The closest restaurants are the Islander and the Galley. There are more restaurants in the village center, which also has a bakery, bookstore, gift shops and a fully stocked grocery store. North of the village is a post office, hardware store and a pharmacy with a soda fountain. The island’s historical museum is located near the village. There’s a bicycle rental company, Lopez Bicycle Works, near the Islander.

A Saturday farmers market is held in summer, and Lopez celebrates the Fourth of July with a parade through town.

Sailor, writer and teacher Migael Scherer, who divides her time between Seattle and Lopez Island, is the author of “A Cruising Guide to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands,” published by International Marine/McGraw-Hill. The guide can be purchased online through Armchair Sailor Books & Charts, Captain’s Nautical Supplies, Amazon and other retailers.

The Deception Pass area is steep, rugged and dramatic. The land north and south of the high bridge that spans the pass—a total of more than 2,000 acres and 14 miles of shoreline—is a state park, the most heavily used in Puget Sound.

Visitors are attracted to the area’s camping and picnic areas, extensive trail system and lakes and beaches. You can fish in saltwater or cast your line into freshwater lakes, explore rocky tidepools or grassy sand dunes, or gaze across the vastness of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Marine facilities on both sides of the pass make most of these activities accessible to boaters.

Currents in Deception Pass exceed 8 knots at times, and in a westerly with a heavy swell off the Strait of Juan de Fuca, this pass is treacherous for any boat. But boaters heading to and from the San Juan Islands prefer it to the “outside” route across the strait or the longer route through Swinomish Channel. A major reason is that the waters of Deception Pass are predictable. Determining slack water is easy; a current table is published specifically for this area and no calculation is required. The biggest challenge navigating Deception Pass is to pay attention to the channel, resisting the temptation to gape, open-mouthed, at the canyon-like beauty above and around you.

Deception Pass includes numerous good anchorages and places for boaters to visit, including Sharpe Cove, Bowman Bay and Cornet Bay.

Cornet Bay

So close to the rush of current and traffic in Deception Pass, Cornet Bay can feel like a refuge of quiet water, despite the summer crowds. The navigable portion is deceptively small—almost a third of the bay dries at low tide—but the state park facilities make creative use of the deep water and there is room for anchoring.

The state park float and detached float in Cornet Bay

Moorings and Anchorage
Moorage is available at state park floats for a fee. Cornet Bay Marina and the county float west of it do not offer overnight moorage. The anchoring basin is northeast of the state park floats; westerlies funnel from the strait over Whidbey Island and the currents can be strong.

Getting Ashore
The best shore access is at the marina or the state park float. The west end of Cornet Bay dries at low tide and is not recommended. Ben Ure Island tidelands are private.

For the Boat and Crew
The fuel dock is west of the state floats, beyond the boathouses at Cornet Bay Marina. The marina store has groceries, ice and some marine supplies. A nearby shop does small repairs. Restrooms with showers are at the head of the state park float.

Bowman Bay

Bowman Bay faces the Strait of Juan de Fuca on the northwest side of Deception Pass. For offshore cruisers the bay will seem comfortable enough, but it may be too exposed for boaters who prefer calmer waters.

This exposure is part of what makes Bowman Bay so beautiful. The beach is a crescent of sand, the headlands wind-torn, rocky and steep. The view west toward the strait is a limitless horizon. Sunsets can be spectacular.

Deception Pass State Park is more accessible from here than from Cornet Bay.

Moorings and Anchorage
Five mooring buoys are set across the bay; mooring at the fishing pier is prohibited. A 100-foot detached float is set inside the curl of Reservation Head, with a pay station on the float. Anchoring is good in mud bottom. Almost any weather turns in from the west here, so be prepared for a night of rocking.

Getting Ashore
All shoreline is public.

For the Crew
There are restrooms with showers north of the fishing pier. Onshore are picnic tables, shelters and a fishing pier. An interpretive center is open during summer.

The trails from Bowman Bay are among the most popular in the park. Hike south to climb Reservation Head, north to Pass Lake or West to Rosario Head. At Rosario Head stands the Maiden of Deception Pass, a wooden story pole commemorating the Samish princess who saved the land and her people by marrying the prince of the sea. North of Rosario Head is a beach much favored by scuba divers. The trail to Pass Lake begins north of the campground.

Sailor, writer and teacher Migael Scherer, who divides her time between Seattle and Lopez Island, is the author of “A Cruising Guide to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands,” published by International Marine/McGraw-Hill. The guide can be purchased online through Armchair Sailor Books & Charts, Captain’s Nautical Supplies, Amazon and other retailers.

Gig Harbor is a great weekend getaway for Puget Sound boaters, offering plenty to do in a protected harbor with spectacular views of Mount Rainier.

A maritime community steeped in history, Gig Harbor was named by the Wilkes Expedition in the early 1800s for the ship’s gig they used to explore this “pretty little bay concealed by the sound.” The town was originally founded by Slovenians, Germans and Scandinavians, and was for many years a thriving commercial fishing village.

Today, Gig Harbor is dotted with shops, galleries and eateries, including Tides Tavern, one of the region’s most well-known waterfront boaters’ hangouts. You won’t feel like you’re getting away from it all, but you’ll be able to enjoy a classic Northwest seaport that caters to boaters.

Moorings and Anchorage
Free moorage is available for up to 48 hours at Jerisich Park on the south shore. Guest moorage is also available at Arabella’s Landing, which takes reservations by phone (360.851.1793). Anchorage is good in the middle of Gig Harbor, in 3 to 7 fathoms.

Getting Ashore
Use the public float at Jerisich Park, or for a fee, the floats and facilities at Arabella’s Landing. Anthony’s HomePort Gig Harbor (look for the Shoreline sign—Anthony’s took over the Shoreline Restaurant) and the Tides Tavern have floats for customers. On the north shore of Gig Harbor, public access is at the street-end launching ramp.

A bronze statue of a fisherman at the head of Jerisich Park is a nod to Gig Harbor's past as a commercial fishing village.

For the Boat and Crew
Marine repair and supply are at Lighthouse Marine at the head of the bay. The nearest supermarket is a short walk up Pioneer Way, in a mall that also has a hardware store and post office. The closest laundromat is at the head of the bay, across the street from Anthony’s.

Things to Do
Restaurants, delis, shops and galleries fill the storefront buildings in town and line the road to the end of the harbor. There are two museums, the Harbor History Museum and the Puget Sound Mariners’ Museum. Walk to a viewing platform at the head of the bay to see what makes this region so remarkable: Mount Rainier, massive and white above the blue water and brightly colored boats—silent, powerful and close.

Special events in Gig Harbor include a parade in early June and a Christmas boat parade in early December. A farmers market is held on summer weekends.

Sailor, writer and teacher Migael Scherer, who divides her time between Seattle and Lopez Island, is the author of “A Cruising Guide to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands,” published by International Marine/McGraw-Hill. The guide can be purchased online through Armchair Sailor Books & Charts, Captain’s Nautical Supplies, Amazon and other retailers.

The guide, which fellow sailor and author Jonathan Raban called “unusually well-written (and) very thoughtfully researched,” has become an indispensable companion for countless local boaters. Three Sheets Northwest, which is running regular excerpts from Scherer’s guide starting today, sat down with the sailor, writer and teacher to talk about the joys of cruising the waters she calls home.

How did you get into sailing?
My father built a 26-foot gaff-rigged schooner in the driveway of our house when I was in junior high. He built it by hand, everything. He even made the rigging and the blocks. It was a lovely little boat, the Spindrift. It must have stirred something in me. He launched it when I was in my 20s. My husband and I really liked it, so that’s when I really first sailed, on that boat. Both of my brothers were sailors—they were in Sea Scouts. So I kind of grew up with the Spindrift and the Yankee Clipper, which was and still is a Sea Scout Boat in Seattle.

My dad tried to teach me to sail. But I learned the way most of us learned—I went out on a sailing dinghy and figured it out. That’s how I learned—going out on Lake Union and figuring it out myself.

How long have you been cruising in the Puget Sound area?
Our first cruise was in 1978. I was living on a boat for 34 years, so I’ve done maybe 32 years of actual cruising. We used to go out a lot, through the Locks into Puget Sound—anchor, motor, sail. I’ve never had a time where I’ve been cut loose and we’ve just cruised for a year and never stopped. We’ve always worked for a living. We spent four years in Alaska. I had a job and we cruised out from that area.

What do you like most about cruising?
I like the attention that I pay to my surroundings. On a sailboat, you’re outdoors all the time. I really like that I have to pay attention to the wind and the weather and the tides and the current. Everything happens at once when you’re on the water, even when it happens very slowly. I like that. I like the navigating. And it means that I can go the same place all the time because those conditions change every time. I can go to Port Madison and have 10 different trips, 10 different times. Whereas in a car, I don’t think I would have that. It would be the same.

I also like the possibility that once I’m out in saltwater, I’m sort of on a big highway that could go anywhere in the world. And even though I don’t go everywhere in the world on that highway, I like that I’m connected to it. I just love that sense. It’s a fantasy.

Has cruising here changed much over the time you’ve been doing it? If so, how?
There are good and bad ways. It’s more crowded, so anchorages that used to be quite empty can be quite full now. Take a place like across from Friday harbor, Parks Bay. We used to be the only boat there.  Now, there are times when we can’t anchor there because it’s too full.

The thing that’s much better is the water is cleaner. There’s a lot less garbage in the water than there used to be. The ferries used to dump their garbage overboard. Everyone used to dump their garbage. I’d be on a beach, find a plastic garbage bag and I could fill it with junk. The downside is you don’t find cool stuff lying around like you used to. You used to find life jackets, cushions, buoys.

Another thing that’s better is you don’t see as much fuel on the water as you used to. The downside is there aren’t as many fuel docks. There are a lot less fuel docks than there used to be.

Do you have a favorite place for cruising in Puget Sound?
I think Sucia Island is one of the best, Sucia Island and Stuart Island. Stuart gives you the most protection. Sucia’s more exposed, but it’s beautiful and you have lots of choices. Even during the most crowded weekends you can find anchorage in that big Echo Bay. There’s a lot of exploring you can do there. It is so gorgeous and just a lovely place. That’s when the weather is good. I’ve had some of my worst nights in Sucia Island, when I was securely anchored but it was blowing like crazy from the Strait of Georgia and there’s no protection there. So it’s both my favorite and my least favorite.

My favorite cruising destination in crummy weather is someplace where it’s protected and there’s someplace to go ashore and you can have a nice little cozy breakfast. There are lots of nice places like that up and down the Sound.

Have you cruised in other parts of the U.S. or other countries?
We made the trip up the Inside Passage, up once and down twice. In each case we took six weeks. We took a couple months to go up and we took six weeks to come back. We had four years in between (while living in Alaska) and that was our cruising ground, in Southeast Alaska. Big distances. Gorgeous. I’d recommend it for anybody. You don’t go during winter, lord knows. But May and September can be your best times, and that’s of course when everyone empties out and heads south. It’s just spectacular.

What made you decide to write a cruising guide?
I didn’t decide at all. My first book was in publication and my literary agent, who comes from a sailing family, scurried into (publisher) International Marine’s booth because it had sailboat pictures up in it and she needed a break.

She talked to John Eaton, who was an editor at International Marine, and he said, “I’ve always wanted to publish a cruising guide for Puget Sound. Do you know a writer who can do that?” She said, “I certainly do.” That’s how it started.

I thought it was crazy. I looked at what it would mean and I just thought, how am I going to do that? How am I going to go to every cove and harbor in Puget Sound? I looked at what it would entail and I realized I hadn’t been to most of the places in Puget Sound. Like most of us, I go to the same places all the time.

I thought, I’m going to have to do a lot and my husband would have to take time off work without pay to do this, and it was a modest advance. But I couldn’t say no. I really couldn’t say, ‘No, I’m not going to write the first comprehensive cruising guide encompassing all of Puget Sound.’ So I said yes.

What was the experience of writing it like?
The research was fun but it was awfully focused. It changed the whole cruising experience. I had to pay attention in a different way. I had to take on my readers’ eyes and also be extremely thorough. We’d anchor somewhere and then we’d get in our little inflatable and we’d go through the whole bay. We’d go to every mooring buoy and use the little depth sounder on the inflatable to see, how deep are these buoys? Is one deeper than the other? It really became a research project. It made me a better navigator, way better—better at reading the land as well as the water.

Does doing the reporting work required to write a cruising guide take the fun out of cruising?
There was a little bit of that, yeah. It became a little bit of a job. It meant that I wouldn’t just kick back and have a glass of wine when we anchored. I had all these little handwritten notes and drawings and so forth, and then I had to make sure I filed them, and I had to make sure I took pictures. The first edition was all film, but the second edition was digital (photos), so I couldn’t risk losing the pictures. I’d use smaller memory cards and then in the evening I’d download the pictures to my computer and then back them up with a CD, every day, because I wouldn’t go back (to the place). So that was the chore of the project. It was like being a reporter.

Do you have plans for any future books?
I’d say yes. When I finish teaching, when I retire, I think there’s a book about that. There’s a book about middle school kids. I’m not sure what it is, though. I have to discover it. I’m not sure when I’ll revise the cruising guide again. Not for a while.

You’ve mentioned that you prefer cruising close to shore rather than offshore cruising. Why?
I get seasick in the lumpy sea. That’s my bad sea. I did a race around Admiralty Island in Alaska and I used the (Scopolamine) patch that helped me get through. I suppose I could get over it after a few days, but I don’t want to. I want to have a good time. Coastal cruising is what I like, but I don’t think I want to risk an ocean voyage. Everyone has their ocean, their motion, and mine happens to be out there on those ocean swells. It’s always moving, right? It never stops.

Tell me about your boat.
It’s a 45-foot ketch that my husband and I built. We launched it in 1974 and we’ve been pretty much building aboard and living aboard since. It’s been our only boat, our main boat. We’ve had numbers of inflatables. We have our (big) boat but I think our little skiffs and things are awfully important. We have a little sailing skiff that we go out in. It’s just a wonderful little thing. I think I do more sailing in that than in the big one. We anchor and then get in that and sail our brains out.

Do you like sailing on a small boat better?
Yeah, I love it. I have complete control. There’s not as much worry (as with a big boat). It’s just me and the boat and one sail, the line, the oars—it’s just simple.

Why did you and your husband decide to build a boat?
We liked the simplicity of it. This was back in the ‘70s, so this was the back-to-the-land time. People wanted to have their own place and grow their own food and simplify life and live without electricity. Our solution was, let’s not acquire so many things. Let’s have a boat and that will give us what we want. We can have a place to live, we can travel. We thought that would be fun. I think that’s why a lot of people live on boats. So we built a boat, moved on it and it just grew on us. We also liked the building process. My husband helped his dad build this house we’re in now (on Lopez Island) and he loved shipfitting and welding. It turns out I must have gotten my father’s woodworking skills because I love finishing and painting. I love that part.

If you could be cruising anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?
I think I’d like to be up in Canadian waters. At this time of year I don’t have a desire to go someplace else. If you asked me the question in January (laughs) it would be a different answer. I’d say it would be kind of cool to be in New Zealand, or in the Bay Islands, or down in Mexico. But at this time of year, I want to be here. I’d love to be spending a fourth of July in Sitka.

I spent four wonderful years living on my boat, Camelot, on Lake Union. I miss it and I don’t. I loved living aboard, but it’s a lifestyle that demands sacrifices of space, comfort and convenience.

It’s been five years since I moved off the boat, but last night I was reminded about the fun and challenge of living aboard, thanks to sailor and author Migael Scherer. Migael—who wrote what I consider the best cruising guide to Puget Sound—was at the Seattle Boat Show to lead a seminar she called “The romance and reality of living aboard.”

Migael and her husband lived aboard their homemade, 48-foot sailboat for the better part of 30 years. She shared her insights and experiences to a crowd of about 40 people who filled most of the seats at the boat show’s green stage.

Living aboard has its moments

Migael was an engaging speaker. And she obviously knew her audience, which consisted of a few veteran liveaboards and a lot of people toying with the dream. She didn’t need to sell them on the romance, so she spent most of her time covering the realities.

Mold and mildew. Cramped hanging lockers. Misguided marina managers. Tripped circuit breakers. Bad lighting. Broken water pumps. And a thousand other little things that never cross your mind in the warm, comfy embrace of a modern home.

“Think of yourself as floating trailer trash and you’ll be fine,” she joked.

And although Migael and her husband are transitioning to life on land these days, I don’t think she would trade those years living on board a boat. Neither would I.

I bought Camelot kind of by accident. In fact, it was my parents who where shopping for a boat in the spring of 1999, when I casually said, “If you happen to find a good liveaboard, let me know.”

They never found their boat, but they did find one for me. A broker pointed them to a lovely Islander 38C that just came on the market after a boat show buyer’s financing fell through. I hustled down to take a look, and with a little financial help from my dad, I signed the papers the next week.

I made the transition to living aboard fairly easily. I was single. I didn’t have much in the way of furniture. And I was already fairly obsessive about keeping my living space clean and tidy.

The boat was perfect for me. It was lightly used, with headroom enough to do jumping jacks and huge windows that let in ample light. The queen-sized Pullman birth was roomy and comfortable.

Best of all, I found a fantastic little marina between the Fremont and Aurora bridges in Seattle and managed to charm the owner into letting me and my boat call it home. It had parking spaces, laundry and a shoreside shower that grossed out my future wife, but worked well enough for me.

I spent winters curled up on the settee with good books and the soft glow of the drip-diesel fireplace. I would mark the coming of spring by watching the buds sprout into leaves on the trees overhanging the water. I lounged in the cockpit on wonderful summer evenings, watching the setting sun paint the soaring Aurora Bridge in fantastic reds. And during fall windstorms, I slept soundly in the sheltered lee of Queen Anne Hill.

I also got to know my boat better than I could have imagined. Every sound, every motion, every smell became as familiar as family. To this day, I have an almost preternatural sense when something on board is wrong.

Some folks thought I was a bit strange when they learned I lived aboard. Others were jealous. And all of them were curious.

How do you cook? Where do you sleep? How do you shower? Do the waves bother you?

My answers never quite satisfied. But when they eventually saw the clean, cozy, teak-lined interior, marveled at the clever gimbaled stove and fold-away table and gazed at the neat lines of books on the shelves, they usually fell in love with my floating home—or at least had an inkling of why I lived where I lived.

Of course, I didn’t mention the occasional battles with mildew, the drips from leaky hatches, the cold walks every morning to the shower or the fact that something expensive was always broken.

I just let them soak up the romance. Because I knew that despite all of the problems, the reality of living aboard was, in the end, a very small price to pay.