Delight, Not Distress, in This Liquid Commute

It is perhaps the most serene commute in gridlocked Southern California, 790 feet across water that shimmers like diamonds, surrounded by frolicking seals and soaring gulls, gleaming yachts and multimillion-dollar homes.

Which is exactly why Richard Reyna, a pilot on Newport Beach’s Balboa Island Ferry, needs to keep his eyes on the water at all times.

“I call it the Disneyland effect. A lot of people get distracted out here by all the scenery,” Reyna, 48, said of the rubbernecking boaters who don’t pay attention while crossing busy Newport Harbor.

“People ask me: ‘Isn’t it boring just going back and forth all day long?’ It would seem that way. But it’s challenging. In the summertime, it’ll send you home with a headache.”

Recent case in point: the guy who nearly crashed into the slow-moving ferry with his yacht, which he was steering with his foot while talking on a cellphone.

For nearly a century, a passenger ferry has connected Balboa Peninsula to Balboa Island. Many of the early ventures were undependable and financial failures.

Joe Beek, who left his engineering studies at what is now Caltech to become an early Newport Beach real estate salesman and developer, won a city permit in 1919 to provide service, largely because he was the only bidder who owned a boat.

Beek charged foot passengers a nickel on his first boat, the Ark. In 1920, the Fat Fairy began transporting cars by pushing them across the channel on a barge. In the mid-1950s, Beek had three 64-foot wooden boats made: the Admiral, the Commodore and the Captain. They outlived their owner, who died in 1968, and are still in use.

For Beek’s three sons, who oversee the business today, the ferry is both heritage and obligation.

“People like it just the way it is,” said Seymour Beek, 71, a retired program manager for Ford Aerospace who lives on Balboa Island -- two blocks from the ferry dock, in the waterfront house where he was raised. “When we’ve done customer surveys, people write back, ‘Please, don’t ever change it. Don’t let it go away.’ People have a fear that old things like this that have survived will be taken away from them.”

Beek, the company’s president, said he makes less than most of his 35 employees. The operation didn’t turn a profit in two of the last five years, he said.

“I don’t know why we’ve kept it going,” Beek added. “Nobody’s ever come along and offered a lot of money for the ferry. If they had, we probably would have sold it.”

Passengers make 2 million trips on the ferry each year. Half of them are Newport Beach residents, and about 80% of the rest live elsewhere in Orange County, passenger surveys show. The price is up considerably from Joe Beek’s nickel, but it’s still a bargain: 60 cents one way on foot, $1.50 for a vehicle and driver.

During the summer, the ferry is a popular tourist attraction, a nostalgic trip back in time at 4 mph.

But the ferry also is a well-used commuter vessel year-round, plying a liquid side street that connects coast and island, bypassing traffic on busy Newport Boulevard and West Coast Highway. The boats were designed to hold four cars, but in today’s SUV-dominated world, the typical load is three.

Most locals will tell you they take the ferry because it saves them precious minutes behind the wheel.

Others will tell you the truth.

“How many times do you get to go on a boat?” said carpet cleaner Curtis Moore, who eased his Ford pickup onto the ferry one recent afternoon on his way to a job on the peninsula. “Look around: the ocean, the boats, the birds. It’s relaxing. Refreshing.”

Gary Robinson, 72, of Laguna Niguel parks on the island’s residential streets and takes the ferry toting his fishing rods.

“Parking is free over here. It costs $7 or $8 over there,” he said, motioning to the peninsula. “It’s 60 cents for the ride over, 60 cents for the ride back. That’s $1.20 as opposed to 8 bucks.”

Karen Leto, 62, lives on Balboa Island and runs a Pilates exercise studio there. Her daughter, Nicole, 35, runs a Pilates studio on the peninsula. The ferry bridges their lives, and like many frequent floaters they buy a $25 punch card good for 30 rides.

“I’ll do this anytime instead of driving around,” Karen Leto said as she and her daughter drifted toward the island. “It’s so convenient. And I can make some phone calls and do some business while we’re crossing. I love it.”