For almost two years, the stretch of grass and sand at 4000 Fanuel Street sat there half-used. A swing set. A few spring riders. An open patch where a play structure used to be, roped off since the city hauled away the old equipment in August 2024. Locals had a name for it by then, and it wasn't affectionate. Ask anyone who's walked a dog or pushed a stroller along that part of Mission Bay in the last few years and they'll tell you: everybody just called it Felony Park.
That nickname is the whole story, and it's worth sitting with for a second before you get to the good news. Because the good news isn't just that Fanuel Street Park has a playground again. It's that the way this one got fixed makes the city's other Mission Bay projects, happening right now, a mile down the shoreline, look almost old-fashioned by comparison.
The Nickname Everyone Used and No One Loved
The playground came down in August 2024 after city inspectors found the metal and steel equipment had corroded past the point of safety. Salt spray, fog, and the constant wet-dry cycle that comes with sitting a few thousand feet from open water had done what that environment does to bare metal. What families were left with was a swing set, some spring toys, and an empty sand pit where kids used to climb.
By February 2025, residents had had enough of waiting. Thirty-three of them signed a letter to the city after every remaining communal toy, plastic cars, shovels, buckets, all of it donated by families over the years, got cleared out too. The city's answer at the time was blunt. Replacing a playground through the normal channel meant a Capital Improvement Program, and that process typically runs four to seven years depending on how funding approvals line up.
Four to seven years. For a swing set and a slide.
The Math Nobody Wanted to Live With
San Diego City Council President Joe LaCava, whose district includes Pacific Beach, put the problem plainly when asked why the city didn't just route the fix through its existing park fund. The Mission Bay Improvement Fund was considered, he said, but it was clear that path would take years before the park and its playground were re-established. For a community that had already watched the space sit empty since 2024, years wasn't an answer anyone wanted to hear again.
So a different group of people decided not to wait for the fund at all.
How It Actually Got Fixed
San Diego resident Dan Smith, who founded local playground builder Zoom Recreation in 2019, kept driving past the empty lot with no city plan in sight. He reached out to the San Diego Parks Foundation, and together they built a workaround. The Foundation launched a community fund with a $70,000 goal and a $10,000 matching gift, and raised roughly $45,000 in donations, all of it private money, none of it from taxpayers. Zoom Recreation then donated the installation labor itself, building and placing the new equipment pro bono.
The material choice mattered as much as the funding model. Instead of replacing steel with steel, Zoom Recreation used recycled plastic engineered to mimic natural wood, a structure meant to resist the exact corrosion that killed the last one. Construction broke ground on May 4, 2026, with a ceremonial groundbreaking, and the timeline that followed was almost aggressive by public-works standards: roughly three weeks of installation, new safety surfacing, sand play elements, an ADA-compliant accessible route, and a dedicated toddler zone for children under three. The original swings and spring riders stayed in place. The park reopened around Memorial Day weekend, with LaCava on hand for a ribbon-cutting alongside city staff.
The 2026 Pacific Beach Honorary Mayor, Denise Friedman, summed up what the win actually represented for the neighborhood. These collaborations truly make a difference, she said, and encouraged the community to celebrate everyone who lives, works, and plays in PB. It's a small line, but it points at the real mechanism here. The park didn't get fixed because a public fund finally worked its way through the queue. It got fixed because a private company and a nonprofit decided the queue wasn't worth waiting in.
Put the two paths side by side and the contrast is stark:
| Standard City Process | What Actually Happened at Fanuel | |
|---|---|---|
| Funding source | Mission Bay Park Improvement Fund (public) | Private donations plus in-kind labor |
| Typical timeline | 4 to 7 years | About 21 months from closure to reopening |
| Construction window | Subject to full CIP scheduling | About 3 weeks once groundbreaking began |
| Who decided the scope | City capital planning process | San Diego Parks Foundation and Zoom Recreation |
The Same Summer, One Mile Away
Here's where the story gets more interesting for anyone who actually walks this part of Mission Bay regularly, because Fanuel wasn't the only construction site this year. It was the smallest one.
A mile or so away, South De Anza Cove is in the middle of a $14.5 million rebuild covering a new playground, basketball courts, and bathrooms. Ventura Cove is getting a $4.4 million overhaul that includes a new ADA-standard restroom building, accessible sidewalks, expanded parking, and conduit for electric vehicle charging. Both projects are funded the way Fanuel wasn't, through the Mission Bay Park Improvement Fund, a pot of money San Diego voters created through Proposition C in 2008 and Measure J in 2016, which dedicates a share of hotel lease revenue from Mission Bay specifically to park capital improvements.
That fund exists precisely to pay for projects like these. And it's working, just slowly, on a schedule shaped by rules Fanuel never had to answer to. Both De Anza Cove and Ventura Cove finished their first construction phases before Memorial Day, then paused. The reason isn't budget or politics. The California Coastal Commission bans summer construction in the coastal zone, so Phase 3 parking work at De Anza Cove and Phase 2 restroom construction at Ventura Cove are both scheduled to resume after Labor Day. De Anza Cove's full build is expected to wrap by spring 2027. Ventura Cove is targeting substantial completion by this October, with the full project finished in early 2027.
If you've walked past either site this month and noticed things looking quiet, that's why. The fencing goes back up in the next couple of weeks, and the work that picks up will run into next year.
What This Actually Means If You Walk This Loop
Here's the thing worth carrying with you the next time you're on the boardwalk or cutting through on a run toward the Bahia. The fastest fix to hit Mission Bay Park this year didn't come from the fund voters built for exactly this purpose. It came from a builder who got tired of driving past an empty lot and a nonprofit willing to skip the line entirely. Meanwhile, the two much larger projects funded the proper way, through decades of dedicated hotel lease revenue, are still working through a phased schedule shaped by coastal construction rules that have nothing to do with money and everything to do with timing.
None of that makes the public fund a failure. De Anza Cove and Ventura Cove are bigger jobs with bigger budgets, and $18.9 million spread across three projects doesn't move at the same speed as $45,000 and a favor. But it does mean the playground your kids are climbing on right now at Fanuel Street exists specifically because someone decided not to wait for the system built to handle it. That's a different kind of neighborhood story than "the city fixed the park." It's closer to "the neighborhood fixed the park, and the city showed up for the ribbon cutting."
So walk the loop this week if you haven't. The swings and spring riders that survived two years of closure are still there, now next to a slide that isn't going to rust out from under the next generation of kids. And when the fencing reappears at De Anza and Ventura after Labor Day, you'll know exactly why, and exactly how much longer the fund-the-right-way version of this story still has to run.
If you're weighing a move within Pacific Beach or just curious what a home near this stretch of Mission Bay is actually worth these days, Angie & Danny Dominguez know this coastline block by block, not just from the portal listings but from walking it. Reach out anytime for a straight answer on your home's value or what's quietly changing a few streets over.