Not every day aboard the 26-foot sailboat was sunshine and rainbows, said Howser, 30. In fact, the life was quite challenging.

But after nearly two years as a “liveaboard,” her lifestyle has taken on an entirely different meaning during the coronavirus pandemic.

The virus has spread across Maryland, infecting thousands and forcing people to stay in their homes as officials restricted large gatherings, closed businesses and encouraged residents to limit their social interactions.

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It turns out that living on a boat is an ideal way to follow those self-isolation techniques, Howser said.

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“We’re just so fortunate where we are,” said Howser, who berths at Port Annapolis Marina with about 30 other liveaboards. “I might see one or two of my neighbors walking down the dock. . . . It’s very quiet back here.”

It helps that the marina has a thriving liveaboard community, including Howser’s neighbor, Kathryn Kopanke.

Howser and Kopanke, 31, once “land home neighbors” in Eastport, still live near one another. They’ve banded together in recent weeks to wait out the pandemic.

Both feel obligated to follow the guidance of health officials who suggest that younger people can spread the virus to older, more-vulnerable populations, though they themselves are less likely to die of it.

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“I think even though we’re socially distanced, we’re really so happy to be able to check in on each other and just have the support of this awesome community,” Kopanke said.

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The neighbors are still able to telework during the crisis, they said, though they try to avoid the marina’s communal areas. Kopanke makes sure to check in with older neighbors who might need something from the grocery store but don’t feel comfortable venturing out.

“It’s a great liveaboard community here,” she said. “We really are like family.”

Across the bay from Howser and Kopanke, Jim Procaccini lives on his 60-foot Hatteras yacht at Castle Harbor Marina on Kent Island. He, too, has relied on a close-knit group of about 20 liveaboards — all of whom are weathering the crisis together.

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Procaccini, 64, works as a health insurance adviser. Some time ago, his employer started allowing workers to do their jobs virtually, but Procaccini resisted. Instead, he continued meeting clients at networking events such as breakfasts and lunches and happy hours. But the pandemic finally forced him online.

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“I’ve always hated doing it that way,” he said. “Now there’s no mingling. . . . What I try to do is establish a relationship. Remotely, it’s tough. I’m Italian, I need to touch and feel.”

As for living on a boat during a pandemic, his daily routine, which he’s honed over the past three years, hasn’t changed much, Procaccini said. He has all the amenities he might need for a protracted period of isolation, joking that he’s been unintentionally practicing for a pandemic.

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For a time, liveaboards in the area were unsure how they would be affected by stay-at-home order issued by Maryland Gov. Larry Hogan (R), which was initially unclear in relation to recreational boating and travel.

This week, a handful of winter boaters at City Dock were forced either to leave or pay eight times as much in rent as the summer season began. They complained that they could neither leave because of Hogan’s order nor pay the higher summer rates.

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Hogan’s office later issued additional guidance outlawing recreational boating other than for gathering food. State officials have clarified that the language also allows liveaboards to move about. All the winter boaters have since departed to other marinas or dropped anchor elsewhere.

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Liveaboards docked at marinas were also worried about how they would be affected. On the day in late March that Hogan ordered all nonessential businesses closed, Howser texted Kopanke wondering how it would affect marina living such as bathrooms, showers and package deliveries.

“We just had questions,” she said.

Almost immediately, Howser received an email from the marina’s management assuring her that services such as waste pump-out and electrical hookups would still be operating. Their packages would still be delivered. The management even started dockside water access early to make life easier for boaters.

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The quick response came from Scott Tinkler, vice president and general manager of Port Annapolis, who has worked there for 36 years.

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Tinkler said the marina is more than just a place to store boats: It’s a community.

Tinkler and his staff have taken extra care to clean the bathrooms and showers more regularly to keep his boaters safe. He compared the response to the pandemic by those living at the marina to the aftermath of Hurricane Isabel in 2003.

“That was another extreme circumstance where people rallied around each other, helped each other, help their neighbor and all that,” he said. “We’ve got people who depend on the infrastructure here, you know. We’ve got to be able to have support for those people.”

Between teleconference calls, walks on the dock and trips to the store for groceries, the liveaboards have tried to make life as normal as possible.

“It’s just really nice knowing that, though doing our own thing, we are all still connected at the same time,” Kopanke said. “We can’t do our grill-outs as we usually do, but maybe later in the summer.”