Did someone say "existing nonconforming"? The prints for these
Encinitas, Calif., boat houses would never have satisfied a
modern plans examiner, but no one worried about that sort of
thing in 1928, when the structures were built. The builder, in
fact — an eccentric former seaman named Miles Kellogg
— apparently didn't work from plans at all. Kellogg
knocked the structures together by eye, using salvaged lumber
from a local hotel and a dance hall for the framing and
interior finish. The outer "hull" is an inch-thick layer of
stucco on redwood lath. According to legend, Kellogg
deliberately built both structures slightly out of plumb to
give the inhabitants the feeling that they were really on the
water.
These boat-shaped houses have been
landmarks in Encinitas, Calif., for three quarters of a
century. The names on the bows commemorate the long-vanished
Moonlight Dance Hall and Encinitas Hotel, which furnished the
salvaged lumber used in their construction.
Despite foundations that can fairly be described as sketchy,
the vessels have survived several moderate earthquakes over the
years. They've endured generations of hard use as rental
housing and passed through the hands of a succession of owners.
But the years have taken their toll. Originally looking
directly out over the ocean, the boats were gradually hemmed in
by other structures. The cramped 3-bedroom, 1 1/2-bath units
didn't generate enough income to pay for adequate
maintenance.
By 2000, when the boat houses went on the market again, they
were in anything but shipshape condition. Local residents
feared that the beloved landmarks would be demolished to make
room for something more practical. So there was widespread
relief when the property went to area designer-builder Mark
Whitley, who launched an ambitious project to restore the boat
houses to their former glory.
The ocean lies a block and a half off
the bow, but rolling landscaped waves provide an appropriately
nautical feel.
Whitley beefed up the foundations, repaired and repainted the
stucco and exterior wood trim, and installed imaginative
landscaping. He tore out uncounted layers of interior finish
materials to expose the original wood flooring and paneling.
("You wouldn't believe the amount of green and harvest gold we
hauled out of there," he says.) He installed new plumbing
fixtures and brought the wiring up to code. The refurbished
Moonlight and Encinitas should continue to startle tourists for
years to come.
The view forward into one of the
remodeled kitchens gives a whole new meaning to the term "work
triangle." Until recently, the "portholes" were screened but
not glazed; tenants learned to block the wind by wedging old
10-inch record albums into the openings as needed.