‘It’s home.’ Man lives on tiny homemade houseboat on the San Joaquin River in Fresno
Despite the dearth of public access, lots of people in Fresno find a way to enjoy the San Joaquin River.
Though as far as I can tell, only one person in town actually lives on the river. Sleeping every night inside a tiny homemade houseboat (little more than a wooden frame covered with plastic sheeting placed upon an inflatable dinghy) with his loyal dog Sailor Girl.
“There are probably other people doing this, but I’m the only one that I know of,” William Bell says on a recent morning from the river bank near the Woodward Bluffs mobile home park. “I’m that rare bird, so to speak.”
The 66-year-old Bell is indeed that. An Indiana native who says he spent the majority of his life in Alaska working as a fur trapper, logger and in construction, Bell moved to Fresno from Florida almost four years ago to pursue a romantic interest.
The relationship didn’t last and in a few months Bell found himself without a place to live. But rather than permanently join Fresno’s growing homeless population, he decided to build his own domicile and live in a manner he has always felt comfortable.
“It’s my default lifestyle,” Bell says from behind his gray hair and beard, both largely unkempt. “When everything goes bad I’ll go back to the river.”
Due to a lack of launch points as well as the river’s shallowness during certain times of the year, most boating on the San Joaquin is limited to kayaks and canoes. Sure, you’ll see an occasional motorboat or personal watercraft. Just not that often.
So in 2017 when Bell began floating the river on a homemade houseboat, he immediately stood out. Some of the attention he attracted came from the officers with the Fresno Police Department’s homeless task force, managers at Sycamore Island Park and game wardens with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife. None of whom appreciated Bell’s presence.
However, there is little the authorities can do about Bell. The San Joaquin is a navigable waterway, a legal definition, and the public’s right to access and use navigable waterways is protected by both state and federal law. Less clear are the public’s rights to drop anchor in the river or tie off along its banks for extended periods of time.
“The cops wanted to cite me,” Bell says. “I told them, ‘Go ahead and do it, I’ll see you in court.’ I know my rights. Though it would probably break me to do it. I don’t have that much money.”
‘Like a homeless encampment’
While Bell may be unique to the San Joaquin, a growing number of people are living on houseboats and barges on California rivers and waterways, according to CDFW Assistant Chief John Baker, who heads the Central District.
Baker says there are many issues associated with people living on and along rivers including pollution, sanitation and the threat of fire.
“It’s becoming more of a frequent problem for my officers to deal with,” Baker adds. “It’s just like a homeless encampment, to be honest.”
Bell bristles whenever people lump him in with the homeless. For one, he does have a home – even though his vessel is barely large enough for him and Sailor Girl to crawl inside. (He used to have a bigger houseboat, that is until someone untied it from its mooring when Bell wasn’t around and let it wash downstream.) Second, he has a steady income thanks to social security and a disability payout from a decades-old construction accident. (He still uses a cane to help walk.)
But most of all, being on the river is the life Bell chooses.
“I take exception to” being called homeless, he said. “I’m not pitching tents on the land or creating a trash problem. I’m not defecating all over the place. …
“You’ve heard the saying ‘Home is where you hang your hat?’ Well, this boat is where I hang my hat. It’s home.”
Comforts of home
Several of Bell’s belongings sit on the bank beside his houseboat, but the area is in no way trashy. The vessel contains many comforts of home including lights and a portable stove. Bell even has a wifi hotspot and laptop computer that he uses to connect to the Internet and send emails.
Bell uses a battery to power his lights and electronics, but thieves recently stole his solar panels. When I visited last week, he was re-charging his battery from the exterior outlet of a mobile home resident whose boat Bell rescued from the river during a high-water event.
Whenever Bell needs groceries and supplies for himself and Sailor Girl — a feisty, excitable lab mix — he hops on his bicycle with an empty crate on the back and pedals to the Walmart on Ingram Avenue.
During his time on the San Joaquin, Bell has seen numerous deer and birds of prey including bald eagles, red-tailed hawks and osprey. He has also had a good number of human encounters, including the group of four taggers spray painting graffiti on the old Highway 41 bridge who threatened to rob him and beat him up until the presence of Sailor Girl made them think twice.
Either way, Bell seems to relish the freedom his unconventional lifestyle affords him.
“There are certain social contracts we all have to live by,” he says, “but there’s nothing that says I have to live how you want me to live.”
Even if you choose to live in a tiny homemade houseboat on one of California’s forgotten stretches of river.
