PUNTA GORDA, Fla. — Punta Gorda’s liveaboard community has been torn apart after the devastating impacts of Hurricanes Helene and Milton. Several boats, once a sanctuary for their owners in Charlotte Harbor, now lie sunk or beached, leaving many without a place to call home.
Michael Brattain, a boat resident who rides the waves in the harbor, watched in disbelief as a vibrant community dwindled from 32 anchored boats to a mere 6. “It’s kind of devastating, we have friends who don’t have homes at this point,” he shared, the weight of concern evident in his voice. “They don’t know where they are going to sleep. It’s devastating.”
The hurricanes prompted most of the ‘liveaboard’ community to seek shelter, fearing for their vessels and the unknown that lay ahead. Brattain faced the sorrowful task of sharing heartbreaking news with friends. “I said, ‘buddy, your boat is in the tennis court.’ It was a very hard conversation to have with somebody to tell them that your entire life is now up on shore,” he recalled, the poignant words hanging heavy in the air like the aftermath of the storm itself.
The remnants of Hurricane Milton transformed Gilchrist Park into a somber scene, with boats resting awkwardly on the tennis courts, their owners left to ponder what the future holds. Brattain notes that the tight-knit spirit among liveaboard neighbors has frayed. Only two of his neighbors returned to their boats, while others remain unaccounted for, their fates unknown. “We haven’t even had anybody reach out to us to ask if everyone is still alive on their boats,” he lamented. “This boat here, this guy is in his eighties and his boat is up here on shore, and I have no idea where he is at. Nobody from the government is checking on anybody out there on the boats.”
Restoring the beached boats poses a challenging and expensive endeavor. Brattain mentioned that one neighbor was quoted over $10,000 just to relocate his vessel back into the water. “You have to pay for a crane, pay for a trailer, get it to a marina with a gantry and pay for the gantry,” he explained, illustrating the grim financial toll this disaster has taken. “So, you’re looking at double digits just to put it in the water if it’s even going to float.”
Punta Gorda’s vibrant liveaboard lifestyle faces further disruption, as the beloved dinghy docks near the Punta Gorda Boat Club have suffered catastrophic damage, forcing the community to drive their dinghies east to Laishley Marina. Public restrooms and water fountains, once so readily available, are now off-limits, a mere shadow of their former utility.
“Everything is destroyed; it’s going to take a long time to get it back to where it was,” Brattain concluded, his eyes scanning the desolated harbor. Residents cling to hope amidst the wreckage, but the road to recovery seems long and uncertain. Each faded anchor, each damaged hull carries a story of resilience, heartbreak, and community. They gather strength, a potent reminder in the face of adversity that they are all, in their own way, still afloat.
