THE OFFER

NOW THAT CROWDED CITIES ARE SPROUTING HIGH-RISES AS A RESULT OF LAND SCARCITY, HOME BUYERS ARE THINKING OF WATER AS THE NEW TERRA FIRMA

When land is scarce, water twinkles in the eyes of potential home buyers

In dense metros such as London, Seattle and the Bay Area, finding buildable residential space is a quest ever upward. New San Francisco skyline additions such as 181 Fremont and the forthcoming Oceanwide Center will tower 61 stories above street level. But floating homes — built on immobile barges — offer an aquatic alternative to soaring high-rises. In fact, San Francisco may even build a floating fire station at Pier 22 to serve waterfront and on-water properties. According to a 2016 BBC report, rising sea levels and cramped quarters are “a perfect storm” for a city to “dip its collective toe into the deep end.” Naturally, the life aquatic is not for everyone. Berthing fees can run up to $1,000 per month, and any move to water falls short of qualifying as real estate — houseboat owners own the “home” but no land to speak of. Even so, hundreds of Bay Area home buyers have decided to get their feet wet.

RICHARDSON BAY, SAUSALITO

Once, the Sausalito waterfront was a wild place, “like Never Never Land,” says a 2007 biography of the late poet Shel Silverstein, who moved to an oddball house built on an old Navy barge on Liberty Dock in 1967. These days, Richardson Bay is more of a placid suburb, but its 480 colorful and winsome homes with nicknames such as Dragon House, Stone Soup and the Green Heron preserve that outre spirit. Container gardens overflowing with wild grasses and succulents, shimmering mother-of-pearl mermaids, and etched-glass windows contribute to the enclave’s eccentric character. “Everyone here marches to a different drum,” says retired hedge fund manager Eamonn Keegan, who’s considering naming his rustic three-bedroom boat Titanic. Waterfront living “encourages individual expression,” says Larry Clinton, former president of the Sausalito Floating Homes Association. “Someone paints their house one way and everyone around them gets inspired.” According to real estate agent

Michele Affronte, a 25-year resident, demand is high. “I keep a log of people waiting to buy,” she says. Sales over the past year range from a one-bedroom former World War II balloon barge for $410,000 to a three-bedroom boat with panoramic views and French country design for $1.7 million.

MISSION CREEK, SAN FRANCISCO

Floating homes came to Mission Creek (located just south of the Caltrain Station) in 1960. It’s a remote inlet, but residents seem to like being out of the way. “To stay happy, stay hidden,” harbor association President Philip De Andrade once said. Forty-year occupant Robert Isaacson values the sense of independence that isolation provides. “We run the creek,” he says. Community members pitch in to do every job, from fixing up docks to managing public relations. “It’s like colonial democracy.” Modern Mission Creek looks like a floating carnival, where clean-lined lofts with tall windows coexist alongside barnlike boats decorated with deer skulls. With nearby developments such as SoMa’s residential high-rises to the north and the forthcoming Golden State Warriors’ Chase Center (slated for a 2019 debut) within a stone’s throw to the south, the enclave is not as remote as it once was, making the floating homes a welcome throwback, a bohemian counterpoint to the new construction. Lee Bender, real estate agent and former Mission Creek resident, says floating-home values change with those of nearby neighborhoods. She estimates that a berth alone that was worth $100,000 in 2000 may command more than $350,000 today. “A rising tide floats all boats,” she says.

BARNHILL MARINA, ALAMEDA

Barnhill Marina is across the Oakland estuary from Jack London Square, but despite being close to an urban center, some Barnhill residents insist that marina living is all about communing with, and working to preserve, nature. “Being right on the water with the seals and bat rays and aquatic birds in your ‘yard,’ you start to think about such things as what you throw out and how much water you use,” says homeowner Dina Folkman, who lives in a midcentury-style floating home. Neighbor Rosemary Reilly says that Barnhill seems so remote that she lived in Alameda for more than 40 years without knowing it was there. “It’s so peaceful, it’s mesmerizing — no street noise, just waves,” Reilly says. “The only downside is that it’s hard to get work done. As soon as my foot hits the dock I feel like I’m on vacation.” Real estate agent and Barnhill resident Angela McIntyre fancies it an “everyday” enclave compared with Sausalito’s flashier presence. In 2016, prices at Barnhill ranged from $325,000 for a single-bedroom boat that faintly whispers of Dutch Colonial architecture to $650,000 for a spacious three-bedroom modern clapboard structure. “Our homes are modest but grand in spirit,” she says. “Sometimes it seems too good to be true.”