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 The future appears brighter for the once-beleaguered Calypso Bay development. Amy Alonzo Rozak/Union Democrat Glenn Butelo couldn’t be happier with his new home in Calypso Bay.
“I just love it up here. I wish I could live up here,” said Butelo, 49, a Sunnyvale resident.
Butelo bought a foreclosed home in the gated Copperopolis community five months ago at a fire-sale price.
He said he knew of the subdivision’s infamous history — the developers’ shoddy construction work, the phony permits, the houses stripped bare by unpaid contractors, even its nickname, “Collapso Bay” — but the deal was worth it.
“You couldn’t build this house, even if they gave you the land for free, for $300,000,” said Butelo, who said his purchase price was well below that.
There are a lot of Glenn Butelos living in Calypso Bay these days.
Roughly 50 homes in the subdivision have been sold in the past year, said Susan Cloward, whose husband, Ron, is the president of the Calypso Bay Homeowners Association.
“It’s like bidding wars in here trying to get a home,” said Butelo, who
said he made six offers on houses before one went through.
Since
residents wrestled control of the homeowners association away from the
developers last May, the community has really come together.
They held their third-ever cleanup day this month, a biannual tradition
started last July, said Cloward. Social events have taken off, with a
first-ever ice cream social last year, a first-ever wine and cheese
party this year, and events planned through 2010, she said. “We do
something every month.”
“I haven’t had a call about Calypso Bay
in probably about five months,” said Supervisor Russ Thomas, whose
district includes Copperopolis, and once received regular complaints
from the development’s residents.
But the house that overlooks
Butelo’s is a reminder of the debts and broken promises left by the
now-vanished developers, brothers Volodymyr and Leonid Dubinsky.
The house’s weeds are overgrown. An open barbecue is starting to rust.
A pink-and-white inflatable kiddie pool holds a foot of stagnant water.
Its windows look into empty rooms.
Despite the improvements at the subdivision, there are still about 30 such vacant homes, estimates Cloward.
Some of that number are for sale, others simply abandoned, she said.
Two near the entrance to the gated community still sport unfinished
exterior walls, tiles piled on the roof and gaping holes where garage
doors should be.
“There are a few houses that people have just walked away from,” Cloward said.
There are 22 houses in Calypso Bay that require repairs before they can
legally be inhabited, according to Cathryne Darmer, permit tech with
the Calaveras County Building Department.
Fixes range from replacing a heating and ventilation unit to just about everything.
“Some of these houses have been gutted due to the foreclosure,” Darmer
said. “No lighting fixtures, no plumbing fixtures, no HVAC, no stove.
No anything.”
At an owner’s request, the county will do a
“special investigation,” a reexamination of particular building issues
that falls short of a full inspection.
It is then up to the
owner to fix the identified problems in order to receive a certificate
of occupancy, which deems the house inhabitable.
The
subdivision’s clubhouse offers a case in point. Built in May 2005, the
clubhouse suffered from many of the same problems that have plagued
homes in the subdivision.
In fact, problems were so bad that
it was not until this month that the building earned a certificate of
occupancy, Cloward said.
An earlier county special investigation
had resulted in a three-page list of required repairs — “and most of
those were major expenses,” she said.
In all, the association spent $30,000 to bring the building, pool and spa up to code, according to Cloward.
Cynthia Greci wonders if Butelo and company are in for the same.
“Probably they’re really not aware of a lot of things,” she said.
Greci is a plaintiff in the only active Calaveras County lawsuit
against the Dubinsky brothers and the assortment of corporations and
limited liability companies they used as developers. (In the lawsuit,
the developers’ names are spelled Leonard and Vladimir Doubinski.)
In 2004, Greci, a Realtor and teacher who lives in Livermore, and her
then-boyfriend contracted with the Dubinskys to build them a home,
paying a $60,000 upfront fee for a waterfront lot. The day after escrow
closed, the roof began to leak.
The home, which Greci still
owns, had framing deficiencies, a sloping living room floor, a failing
retaining wall, cracking stucco, unsightly sheet rock and other
problems from the time they moved in, alleges her suit.
Her house, which she bought for $600,000, is now worth half that. But she has no plans to sell.
“I have to keep it now, I dumped so much money into it,” she said. “I’m
hoping eventually I can fix it,” she said. Right now she doesn’t have
the funds.
Meanwhile, the suit is moving nowhere. Neither the
Dubinskys nor a legal representative has shown up for recent hearings
and Greci, who already racked up $100,000 in legal fees on the case,
can no longer afford a lawyer.
“I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do,” she said. “Basically,” she added, “I’m screwed.”
Calaveras County — who Greci also blames — has also been left holding a bill.
“We have spent a phenomenal amount of time on this project,” Darmer
said. “We were spending our entire days pulling files for Calypso Bay.”
But the chances of compensation are slim, especially as the county’s
claims are minimal in comparison to others. Creditors in a pair of 2008
bankruptcy proceedings in the Sacramento area claimed the brothers owed
them more than $22 million.
Two additional companies linked to the Dubinskys also filed for bankruptcy last year, leaving $30 million in debts.
“It would be great if there was recourse, but I don’t think there is,” said Thomas. “They’re gone.”
As Greci recalls being told by a judge, regarding compensation: “Get in line.”
The subdivision’s saga dates back to at least December 2004, when
Calaveras County Water District officials discovered 19 unauthorized
water hookups at houses under construction. Dubinsky paid the district
$11,800 to legalize the connections.
In the summer of 2006,
county officials closed the development’s boat launch ramp, floating
dock, gazebo and paved road leading to the ramp. The reason: They had
been built without permits. (They have since been approved.)
By
2008, the extent of the construction problems at Calypso Bay had become
well-known. Retaining walls were built within setbacks. Backyards did
not properly drain. Soil beneath the homes was not properly packed
down, resulting in sinking swimming pools, sagging foundations and
leaky plumbing. And so on.
At the beginning of 2008, the
homeowners association was sunk in deadlock. A resignation on the
five-member board of directors led to a series of 2-2 votes, with
developers on one side and homeowners on the other.
But in May 2008, four new members, all property owners, were elected to the board. And from there proceeded the turnaround.
Though longtime residents looking to refinance may wince at the
development’s rock bottom home prices, they are a boon for those buying
in now.
Houses that went for around $850,000 during the height of the subprime housing frenzy are now listed for $350,000.
In foreclosure sales, which are starting to become less common, prices
are closer to the “mid-to-high two’s,” said Dot French, a Realtor with
Central Sierra Realty and a Calypso Bay homeowner.
“It’s a good opportunity,” she said.
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