VERO BEACH — The same tranquil lifestyle that has given rise to the nickname Zero Beach by the younger generation is exactly what has propelled a good many boaters to put down land roots in Vero Beach. But they have their own name for it – Velcro Beach.
“People come in here and get stuck here; they like it and they stay,” says Charlie Pope, who 10 years ago started an informal group of fellow CLODs – Cruisers Living on Dirt.
“There are no officers; no dues,” says Pope at a recent member gathering. “The goal was just to be a social club. It’s about the transformation between living on their boats to living on land.”
Hundreds of boaters regularly sail through Vero Beach, heading north and south along the Intracoastal Waterway with the same predictability as migrating birds.
Each year, a few are swayed into staying.
Water remains a constant quantity in the lives of those making the gradual transition to dry land, as do the friendly travelers met along the way.
Only about a quarter of the 100- plus members still own large boats, but they all continue to gather Wednesday mornings for breakfast at the 2002 Restaurant, and monthly for potluck-style parties at homes and condo clubhouses.
“In the fall, we’ve had as many as 80 people here for breakfast when the boats are going north and south,” says Pope. “We’ve seen it overflow into the other room.”
Vero Beach is known as one of the most popular stops along the intracoastal because the Go Line stops at the Vero Beach Marina.
“Vero Beach is the only city from Boston to Key West that has a free bus service for the boaters. Others used to, but Vero is the only one that still does,” says Pope.
“It was so exciting to come here and get on the bus and go to the mall, shopping, the movies; it takes you all over,” adds Nancy Goyette. “We settled here because it was so boater friendly. We met lots of friends here.”
“Coming down the Intracoastal Waterway, there are not that many places where you can stop and get any further than walking distance from the boat,” agrees Aime Goyette.
The couple left Massachusetts in 1999 and lived aboard their boat five and a half years before eventually buying a home here.
Pope noted the significant economic impact from the constant influx of boaters saying, “Coming down from the north, they stage here buying groceries and stocking up for the winter before heading to the Bahamas. There’s hundreds of boats that come through and help the local economy.”
“You can always tell boaters; it’s stamped on your forehead,” laughs Ron Sobon, who sailed here with wife Karen. “Boaters know; you can tell. That’s how we met Aime and Nancy. They could tell we were boaters and gave us a ride.”
“We first met Charlie in Annapolis. We first met the Sobons in Myrtle Beach,” explains Nancy Goyette. “They [Sobon] bought first but we didn’t know they were buying here, and they didn’t know we were looking. We didn’t know Charlie was here until later.”
With boaters tending to travel at roughly the same time each year in what they call a “narrow highway,” frequently mooring at favored locations, friendships are picked up as quickly as barnacles.
“You know people by their boat names,” says Pope. “Nobody knows last names.”
Bill and Lily Taylor lived on their boat seven years before settling in Vero Beach.
“We saw the Christmas parade on Ocean Drive and we really had a feeling that it was our own small town environment,” he says. “The main thing is that there were no high buildings.”
A watercolor artist, Lily Taylor said she was sold after seeing the classrooms at the Vero Beach Museum of Art.
“The evolution of people like us is sailboat, powerboat, motorhome, nursing home, funeral home,” says Pope.
“My wife and I lived on our boat eight years and traveled approximately 30,000 miles from Boston to Venezuela.”
Pope said they tried going back to their Dallas hometown. “I couldn’t stand it; it was too big.”
He jokes that he doesn’t own one boat now – he has 40 of them, referencing the Youth Sailing Foundation which he created to instill a love of sailing in youngsters.
“There really is a community here,” says Bill Taylor, who now tows a boat with a trailer. “The community still hangs together even if they’re not boating together. We do Skype a lot.”
“I don’t have a boat anymore,” says Pat Rice. “We lived aboard for eight years; came from Indiana.
“Living in Vero beach is our next adventure. Most of these people we had met along the waterway and knew they had settled here. When we decided to sell our boat we felt like this was home, because we had so much in common.”
To celebrate his 70th birthday, Ron Sobon says a large contingent of boaters arrived from all over the eastern seaboard.
“We’re still in touch with everybody,” he says. “It’s a really, really tight group. You’re more apt to ask your neighbor for help. On land you might not even know your neighbor.”
“You get to know people all up and down the coast. You get to see places you’ve only read about,” adds Aime Goyette.
“We sailed into Vero Beach in ‘03; we had friends who had a condo here,” says Keith Reynolds of himself and partner Rosemary Miles. “We ended up buying a house in Indian Trails but we’re still actively cruising.”
“I’ve been off the boat for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like,” Earl Beasley says wistfully, remembering many years of boat living. He just recently gave his smaller boat to his son in New York. “If I need a boat trip I go charter one or call my friends.”
Similarly, Julie Horchler no longer has the boat she lived on at the marina, but still lives nearby.
“We first got here in the early ‘80’s by boat. We would come up and down the east coast from Long Island and then sold the house and lived aboard the boat about six years. We had stopped here a lot and liked it; this is where we decided to stay.”
