Latest news with #houseboat
The Guardian
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
A moment that changed me: I had a wild London party life – until I met a man who lived on a houseboat
If you'd told me when I was in my early 30s that, by the end of that decade, I would be living in a houseboat, I would never have believed you. I was a devoted Londoner, born and bred, and very wedded to my city lifestyle. I'd got a 100% mortgage and bought a tiny flat with a balcony, where I would host parties – and defy gravity – every weekend. Romantically, I was jumping from one emotional disaster to another, falling for unsuitable people, closing my ears to those who dropped hints about biological clocks. I had my dream career in publishing and most weeknights could be found stumbling out of the Groucho Club and into a cab. In the early 00s, publishing was all about 'networking' and there was always someone keen to go for 'just one' – code for a late night of heavy drinking, often culminating in karaoke. I'd get out of bed at 9am the next day, get on the tube and be at my desk by 10, with my boss shaking his head knowingly at my 'breakfast meeting' alibi. Then I'd do it all again. I was a total ageing party girl cliche. My parents had given up on the idea of me settling down and, luckily, I had a younger sister who was getting married, which took the pressure off. I spent her wedding determined to be the last one on the dancefloor in my bright pink dress and feather boa, so that no one would guess I was as worried about my future as they all seemed to be. And then I met James. We'd actually crossed paths some years earlier, but our mutual friends began to nudge us towards each other around 2008, after we each went through a breakup. Something in me knew that I needed to tread carefully with him. James was super-smart and intuitive, didn't like arguments and stood up to me when I behaved carelessly. He challenged me in a way I hadn't encountered before. He also had a rootedness about him, seeming settled and happy on Taggs Island in Hampton, south-west London, where he lived. I'd heard some time before that James lived on an island houseboat, a place where you woke to the swans and the geese, and the rowers, with an eccentric and wonderful community, like a floating village. At that stage, I hadn't been interested in swans, or rowers, or community, but when he invited me to lunch at his home, I thought I'd better go and see what all the fuss was about, swallowing the expensive 40-minute cab ride to get there. That July day, everything sparkled on the river. We sat in the garden, surrounded by climbing roses, watching the boats going past, with friendly neighbours dropping in to say hello. We even swam in the river. By the end of the date, I didn't want to go home. Things became serious between us very quickly and we decided to try for a baby, but that didn't mean I wanted to give up my flat or my work-hard-play-hard lifestyle. Even though I could be in Waterloo in 40 minutes, Taggs Island felt like a long way from city life – and I was looking at an hour and a half's commute to work. When I became pregnant, I knew that living between our two homes was no longer feasible, but I found it hard to let go. I finally moved to the houseboat the summer before our son was born, after James convinced me that it would be an amazing place to bring up children: the freedom, the river, going to school by boat, a huge park on our doorstep. James was already a devoted islander but I found the change hard at first. I wasn't used to the lack of privacy, the island WhatsApp group that pinged all day long or the long commute as I got enormous and tired. And then, something magical happened. On one of the first days of my maternity leave, I was feeling lost and out of place, miles away from the 'real world', when I received an invitation from a lovely neighbour, who also had a baby, asking me for tea. We had a lot in common: she was also an older mum, a writer, and had previously led a Soho life. That tea on her balcony led to us spending most of our maternity leave exploring local child-friendly cafes together, and forging friendships with other mothers on the island. Some of them had grown up there themselves and had wanted to return with their own kids. It gave me a sense of the legacy and the unique appeal of this extraordinary place where I now live. After that, there was no stopping me: I leaned into island life, joining the local book club and even taking up kayaking. I began to discover what community means and how important it can be in supporting you when you feel like a fish out of water. I now have a floating office in a canal boat and enjoy working from there more than I ever did in the city – even if there are fewer opportunities for post-work drinks and late-night karaoke. River of Stars by Georgina Moore is published by HQ on 3 July (£16.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply.
The Guardian
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
A moment that changed me: I had a wild London party life – until I met a man who lived on a houseboat
If you'd told me when I was in my early 30s that, by the end of that decade, I would be living in a houseboat, I would never have believed you. I was a devoted Londoner, born and bred, and very wedded to my city lifestyle. I'd got a 100% mortgage and bought a tiny flat with a balcony, where I would host parties – and defy gravity – every weekend. Romantically, I was jumping from one emotional disaster to another, falling for unsuitable people, closing my ears to those who dropped hints about biological clocks. I had my dream career in publishing and most weeknights could be found stumbling out of the Groucho Club and into a cab. In the early 00s, publishing was all about 'networking' and there was always someone keen to go for 'just one' – code for a late night of heavy drinking, often culminating in karaoke. I'd get out of bed at 9am the next day, get on the tube and be at my desk by 10, with my boss shaking his head knowingly at my 'breakfast meeting' alibi. Then I'd do it all again. I was a total ageing party girl cliche. My parents had given up on the idea of me settling down and, luckily, I had a younger sister who was getting married, which took the pressure off. I spent her wedding determined to be the last one on the dancefloor in my bright pink dress and feather boa, so that no one would guess I was as worried about my future as they all seemed to be. And then I met James. We'd actually crossed paths some years earlier, but our mutual friends began to nudge us towards each other around 2008, after we each went through a breakup. Something in me knew that I needed to tread carefully with him. James was super-smart and intuitive, didn't like arguments and stood up to me when I behaved carelessly. He challenged me in a way I hadn't encountered before. He also had a rootedness about him, seeming settled and happy on Taggs Island in Hampton, south-west London, where he lived. I'd heard some time before that James lived on an island houseboat, a place where you woke to the swans and the geese, and the rowers, with an eccentric and wonderful community, like a floating village. At that stage, I hadn't been interested in swans, or rowers, or community, but when he invited me to lunch at his home, I thought I'd better go and see what all the fuss was about, swallowing the expensive 40-minute cab ride to get there. That July day, everything sparkled on the river. We sat in the garden, surrounded by climbing roses, watching the boats going past, with friendly neighbours dropping in to say hello. We even swam in the river. By the end of the date, I didn't want to go home. Things became serious between us very quickly and we decided to try for a baby, but that didn't mean I wanted to give up my flat or my work-hard-play-hard lifestyle. Even though I could be in Waterloo in 40 minutes, Taggs Island felt like a long way from city life – and I was looking at an hour and a half's commute to work. When I became pregnant, I knew that living between our two homes was no longer feasible, but I found it hard to let go. I finally moved to the houseboat the summer before our son was born, after James convinced me that it would be an amazing place to bring up children: the freedom, the river, going to school by boat, a huge park on our doorstep. James was already a devoted islander but I found the change hard at first. I wasn't used to the lack of privacy, the island WhatsApp group that pinged all day long or the long commute as I got enormous and tired. And then, something magical happened. On one of the first days of my maternity leave, I was feeling lost and out of place, miles away from the 'real world', when I received an invitation from a lovely neighbour, who also had a baby, asking me for tea. We had a lot in common: she was also an older mum, a writer, and had previously led a Soho life. That tea on her balcony led to us spending most of our maternity leave exploring local child-friendly cafes together, and forging friendships with other mothers on the island. Some of them had grown up there themselves and had wanted to return with their own kids. It gave me a sense of the legacy and the unique appeal of this extraordinary place where I now live. After that, there was no stopping me: I leaned into island life, joining the local book club and even taking up kayaking. I began to discover what community means and how important it can be in supporting you when you feel like a fish out of water. I now have a floating office in a canal boat and enjoy working from there more than I ever did in the city – even if there are fewer opportunities for post-work drinks and late-night karaoke. River of Stars by Georgina Moore is published by HQ on 3 July (£16.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply.
Daily Mail
21-06-2025
- Daily Mail
EXCLUSIVE 'The life we built has been destroyed': Heartbroken family-of-five left homeless after 'stranger burnt down £64k canal boat because he wrongly believed they had torched his boat'
A devastated family-of-five fears their 'life has been destroyed' after an intruder allegedly broke into their houseboat and set it alight in what is believed to be a case of mistaken identity. For the last six years, Tess, 35, and her husband Akin, 33, have painstakingly turned their canal boat from an empty shell into a comfortable family home. They always viewed 'October' - named after the month in which their first child Asa, five, was born - as more than just a floating residence. Aside from the cosy internal living area, the 60ft boat was built to be a sustainable home, with solar power panels, a water filtration system and its very own roof garden, which was known for its lush array of tomatoes, strawberries, aubergines, cucumbers and potatoes. There were also many other reasons the boat held such a special place in their hearts - for it was here on board October that the couple's two youngest children Myra-Rae, 3 and Zephaniah, aged four months, were born. But cherished memories might be all the family have left to hold onto after their houseboat, docked in Hackney Wick, east London, was set alight by an individual unknown to the family in the early hours of Saturday, May 24. Thankfully, Tess and the children were away camping at the time, while Akin had gone out for the evening with friends. But when he returned, fire crews were already at the scene battling to put out the ferocious flames. In that moment, Akin, who works as a digital health consultant, believed it could be 'the end of everything' - and was left helplessly watching from the bridge as October was consumed by flames. Before and after: The family had lovingly restored the boat from a shell into a 'beautiful' home - but now they fear they might not be able to return A Met Police officer told the family afterwards they may have simply been unfortunate victims of 'mistaken identity' in a possible tit for tat boat-burning incident. Now effectively homeless, the family has had to resort to staying for a few days at a time with friends after Hackney Council revealed there was no emergency housing anywhere in London. As a single income family-of-five they say a mortgage is simply out of their reach, while the cost to restore the boat to its former glory could prove far too high. Adding to their woes, they bought October in 2019 as an unfitted boat for £64,000 and spent the next six years transforming it into their 'beautiful' family home. But they did not get it reassessed by their insurance before the boat was set ablaze - meaning they stand to only get a payout for its original value as an empty vessel and not what it could have been worth before the fire. Determined to help them return to the life they one knew, friends of the family have set up a GoFundMe appeal to ease their financial burden, but the couple admit the tragedy could spell the end of their canal boating days. Speaking to MailOnline, Tess explained how she and Akin first began living on canal boats nine years ago. 'The lifestyle we have enjoyed with the children has been wonderful because you can be in London, but you're also in nature. 'You've got the marshes and the ducks on the water. There's a really nice boating community and we've met many other families with young children.' But that almost idyllic existence was brought to an abrupt halt over the last Bank Holiday weekend. Recalling the events of that night, Akin said he was walking home after an evening out with friends when he could see an array of emergency lights in the distance and 'a massive deal going on'. He said: 'A fireman stopped me and said: "Well, you can't come through here." But then I told him I live on a boat, so he walked me up to the bridge, pointed and said, "Is it that boat there?" 'That's when I saw my home was on fire. There were firefighters and police cars everywhere. 'In that moment I just thought it was the end of everything. I couldn't imagine anything surviving from what I could see - not much did. 'But it was also this feeling of we built that. It's not like we rented the boat. That was everything we had built over the last almost 10 years. 'It just felt unbelievable to think everything was gone.' Among the items destroyed forever were those steeped in sentimental value, including a teddy bear their eldest, Asa, has slept with since he was a baby. Tess said: 'I lost my great-grandmother's jewellery box, which she had given to me and I was really close to her. So that was upsetting. 'There was also a quilt, which is an old family thing, and also another quilt that my mum made for my son when he was born, and lots of things like that.' Meanwhile Akin has lost many of his prized personal effects. 'I've been DJing since I was 16 to pay my way through university - now all my DJ equipment has gone and my record collection has melted,' he said. 'All my musical instruments, the piano, my guitars, they were destroyed as well. 'I enjoyed collecting sneakers since I was 20, and those have all been burnt up. 'We hardly have anything of our own anymore.' In the aftermath of the incident, the couple say returning to the fire-ravaged wreck has left them traumatised as they began to process what had happened. 'The first time I went back I was in shock. Just the devastation was incredible. 'Everything was gone, it was full of water and there was broken glass everywhere. 'I had to go in again when the insurance surveyor came and looked at it, and I found that much harder. I came out shaking that time,' said Tess. Asa added: 'I couldn't recognise my own home. Part of me thought we had been broken into and robbed, but the forensics guy started pointing out computers, phones, water bottles. I didn't recognise anything because it had all melted.' For now, the family are trying to come to terms with the loss of their home as they decide what their next steps will be. While they have been offered emergency housing, it would have meant having to move miles outside of London and away from friends, school and work. 'The first thing my three-year-old asked when I told her about the fire was "has my nursery burnt down as well?", recalled Tess. 'I couldn't take the children away from everything they know. 'They've lost their home. I can't have them lose everything else all at the same time. 'So I was desperate to keep them at their school and in the community. 'Moving away would also mean that Akin and I wouldn't have any support or help, and it just seemed completely overwhelming. 'But it's hard for us, because every week we are having to find someone else who can host us. We understand that no one can put up a family-of-five indefinitely.' Akin continued: 'The insurance money might pay for rent for two or three years, but it's not enough for a mortgage. That's the real shock of the whole thing. We don't really know how to restart. 'People have discussed rebuilding the boat, but a couple of professionals we spoke to said the interiors could be very toxic, and we're not sure we could afford to get it rebuilt and refitted. 'Our friends and the boating community have been just overwhelmingly supportive and kind. 'We're just trying to see what our way forward will be.' A 34-year-old man of no fixed address has been charged with arson with recklessness as to whether life was endangered. He is due to appear at Wood Green Crown Court next week.
Daily Mail
18-06-2025
- Business
- Daily Mail
Grain barge becomes great home as luxury vessel moored on the Thames goes up for sale for £1.5million
A grain barge reborn as a luxury floating home on the Thames is on the market for £1.5million. Moored on a long-term residential berth at St Mary's Wandsworth Pier in southwest London, the impressive 131ft Belgian Spitz vessel has been transformed into a four-bedroom houseboat. It is complete with panoramic Thames views, bespoke interiors, and modern comforts designed for year-round living. Owners David Karat, from the US, and his partner moved into the barge in August 2021, after its initial conversion by previous owners. Since then, they've poured time, effort and 'more than they had intended' into upgrades, but Mr Karat insists it was money well spent. He said: 'The owners before us had done all the hard work of sourcing this amazing grain barge from Antwerp and creating the foundation that we built upon. 'The layout and position of the boat was perfect for updating to the most modern and advanced systems and materials. 'In all we spent more than we intended. Hundreds of thousands of pounds that would have been wasted on other things were funnelled this way instead.' Now, the couple is moving to New York, and are putting their remarkable home on the market. Mr Karat said: 'Nothing compares to life on the water. The fresh air, the sounds of the water, the wildlife and the community are special and provide a unique experience. '[It's] an oasis with really easy access by Thames Clipper from the Wharf to anywhere in Central London. Or the train from Clapham Junction is a short walk away. It is special.' Originally built to carry grain, the Spitz barge now boasts bespoke finishes, high-spec insulation, and an automated waste pump-out system, ideal for riverside living in all seasons. A decked garden at the entrance offers an inviting welcome, while inside, the open-plan kitchen and saloon provide plenty of space for day-to-day life and entertaining. Below deck, the main living room features warm wood panelling and a wood-burning stove that makes the space feel homely and rich in character. The barge includes four en-suite double bedrooms, the master suite being a highlight. Measuring 25ft 9in by 15ft 7in, it comes with its own stove, walk-in wardrobe, and a luxurious en-suite bathroom with a roll-top bath and separate shower. The couple spent 'more than they had intended' upgrading the vessel but they say that every penny was worth it. Pictured: One of the bedrooms Up top, the original wheelhouse has been redesigned as a stylish reception room, opening onto a generous sun deck, perfect for taking in the riverside views. A designated parking space is included, and residents benefit from a 24-hour concierge at the pier. Between Battersea and Wandsworth bridges, the home is near shops, bars and restaurants, with easy links to Fulham and Chelsea. 'I am heading back to the US to live, so [I] wish to leave it to someone else to enjoy.' With a rare combination of history, design, and location, the former grain barge now offers one lucky buyer a chance to call the Thames home.
Yahoo
16-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
I'm a boomer living on $4,996 monthly. My houseboat saves me money and keeps me young.
Cheryl Fellenz, 81, swapped her home for a houseboat in 2009 to cut expenses. Fellenz lives on $4,996 monthly from Social Security and a teacher's pension. She said the houseboat gives her close access to nature and a sense of adventure in retirement. This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Cheryl Fellenz, 81, a retiree who lives on a houseboat off the coast of southern Maryland. She is one of thousands of older Americans who have shared their financial, career, and retirement stories with Business Insider. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. The idea of living on a houseboat felt like serendipity. I retired at 51 from my teaching career as a reading specialist. I had never been a boater or a boat captain or anything, but one day in 2009, a couple of friends were in my living room talking about this funky Washington DC boat yard down M Street. My spirit was attracted to that. When I drove down by the water and saw those boats at the marinas, I was like "oh, yeah, I'm doing this." Soon after, I sold my house, paid off the mortgage, bought my houseboat in cash, and then started my adventure. It was right after the market crash, so I sold my house — which I had been living in for 15 years — at a loss, but I was able to buy the houseboat for roughly $84,000. I knew the decision to move would cut my living expenses and I no longer have a mortgage. Lucky for me, if you have a pension, you don't even have to think about a 401(k). I don't have any savings, but my Social Security and teacher's pension add up to $4,996 a month, which is comfortable for me to live on. I keep an accounting book and I write down all my expenses — the fee to dock my houseboat is $275 a month, then I need to afford groceries and utilities. Praise God, I'm in excellent health. If something happens, I put it on my credit card, then I pay it off. I am disciplined with that. I'm paying toward my next financial goal: to be totally debt free. Boats can have more expenses than houses sometimes. After I got settled here, I had to pay several thousand dollars to fix the roof, air conditioner, and electricity. I paid for those repairs with my credit cards, and I'm hoping to have it down to zero by the end of this year. Once that's done, I'll have an extra $2,000 a month of spending money. I live an alternative lifestyle. I don't have children and I'm not married. But I have my routine: I go to the gym, I fill up a few gallons of fresh water at a natural spring off Route 488, I cook on my hot plate or grill, and I run my errands. I also teach a few local children how to read. I don't charge the families anything, but it gives me a sense of purpose. Even though I'm at this later stage of my life, I still can say, "oh, I have something to do today." I don't feel lonely. In my early years, I was the ultimate party girl. I loved to go to bars, listen to music, and go dancing. Now that I'm a little older, I wind it down a bit. I talk to friends, I go to social events held by my boating association, and I go once a week to a nearby jazz club. I would tell anyone planning to retire: be open to new experiences. Cultivate your imagination. Ask yourself: "Gee, where would I want to live? What's important to me?" The houseboat has absolutely been an adventure for me. When I moved in all those years ago, the DC-area had a giant snowstorm. It was like a foot above my knees. I had to shovel the dock, about the length of a football field, but I felt so proud of myself. I felt so alive. I literally think living here keeps me young. I'm happy with how my life is and the people in it. From my childhood, I've always loved nature. I see eagles, ospreys, gray and blue herons, and little turtles on the boat everyday. This is my dream come true. Do you have a story to share? If so, reach out to this reporter at allisonkelly@ or via Signal at alliekelly.10 Read the original article on Business Insider
