Latest news with #narrowboat
Telegraph
4 days ago
- Telegraph
‘I swapped a house in Kent for a narrowboat. It's saved me £900 a month'
At the start of the year, I began living on a narrowboat, partly due to high house prices, but also because I yearned for a more peaceful pace of life. The last few months have involved moving my boat at a leisurely pace from Worcester to Bedfordshire, taking a lengthy detour via Birmingham to avoid a closed section of the canal. It was a very scenic trip, and taught me a lot about the value of taking things slowly and looking for the simple pleasures in life. We really do live in a very beautiful country and there are few better ways to see it than by pootling along the canals at 4mph. Most of the challenges came from the unusually hot and dry months of June and July, where the canal water levels dropped significantly across the Midlands. Many sections of the canal are still rationing water, with locks only open at certain points of the day. As a result, more than once my boat ran aground. On one occasion, I had to deploy all my powers of persuasion to convince two Chinese tourists, who spoke very little English, to come and stand with me on the furthest side of the boat so we could rock it off the mud. Somehow, they were not deterred by the strange, sunburnt man doing lots of pointing and amateur sign language, and they then stayed with me for a few hours as we cruised into the middle of Birmingham. By choice, I should add, before anyone accuses me of kidnap or piracy. Fortunately, most days were far less dramatic. On a typical weekday, I get up, walk my dog, check work emails and do half a day's work. The remaining half of the day I fire up the engine and aim to do five or so hours of cruising before finding a scenic place to moor up for the night. On weekends, I cruise all day. The exception to this routine is in very bad weather. I don't mind moving the boat in the rain, as this can make for a quieter day on the water – wiser boaters decide it's a better idea to stay below deck and put the kettle on. Wet conditions do increase the risk for a single-handed boater when doing canal locks because you end up climbing up wet ladders and having to walk on the slippery roof and sides of the boat. My risk appetite is too low to tolerate the prospect of slipping and falling into a lock with no one around to help me, so on very rainy days, I prefer to stay put unless I can do a few hours' cruising lock-free. A lower cost life The rainy days give me a chance to work out some of my finances, and how living on a boat compares to the cost of a house. When I lived in a house in Kent, my outgoings were around £1,760 a month, and would now be higher due to mortgage rates rising. This includes train fares of £540 a month, £200 on groceries, £100 on petrol, £225 on my share of assorted bills like council tax and water, £200 for the monthly share of annual bills like car, pet and home insurance, and £500 on a mortgage, thanks to a super-cheap fix. On a narrowboat, my monthly outgoings are considerably less. From March to July, my monthly spending averaged £840 a month, so £920 less than living in bricks and mortar. Some months, I spend as little as £500. My typical costs include around £60 a month on diesel, £200 on groceries, £50 on my phone and internet, and maybe £50 on sundries, like when a storm blew my chimney cap into the canal, never to be seen again. The £840 figure also includes the monthly costs of big yearly bills. I now spend £250 a month on mooring fees, as I decided I wanted to have somewhere to leave my boat when going to visit friends and family. These fees are optional, but the alternative is to move the boat at least every two weeks, under canal rules, which I thought could become tricky if I had an extended trip planned. My annual boat licence costs £1,118.64, which works out at £93.22 a month, and also includes my water bill. My boat insurance is another £30 a month, car insurance is £50 and pet insurance is another £50. I also spent £51.23 on oil and filters to service my engine, which needs doing twice a year at least, so another £8.53 a month. The cost of running my boat does go up in the winter due to the cost of smokeless fuel, which I burn in a stove to heat the boat. From January to March, I ran that stove nearly 24 hours a day which added £192 to my monthly outgoings. This means a total of £1,033.75 a month at the coldest points of the year, dipping a bit during periods where I only need heat in the evenings and overnight. The curse of 'sticky diesel' But living on a boat, while overall far less expensive than a house, does not necessarily mean a constantly low cost of living. Rather, I have come to view it as a succession of fairly cheap months punctuated by the occasional eye-wateringly large bill. A case in point came one chilly morning in March. I was heading towards Birmingham when I noticed a faint hint of white smoke coming from my exhaust. This is not unheard of when starting an engine in cold conditions, but it got steadily worse as the day went on. Eventually, I moored up and called a mechanic, who tinkered about with my engine and informed me that my diesel injectors had gummed up and would need professional servicing. Cue a seven-day sojourn stuck by the towpath with no power, waiting for new parts and a £700 bill, plus an extra £600 to get my tank cleaned out. This was an expensive way to learn that the additive I'd been putting into my diesel tank to prevent 'diesel bug' – microbes that contaminate fuel – can backfire by causing 'sticky diesel'. This clogs up the narrowest part of the engine, the needle-like injector nozzles. There have also been some one-off renovation costs, such as a new sofa (£200) and varnish and paint (£200). These occasional large bills will certainly continue, although some of that will be by choice. I have some planned expenditure to get the boat how I want it. This will include £1,000 to get solar panels installed to give me constant electricity, at least outside the darker winter months. Currently, I get electricity by running my engine, so in the long run, these solar panels will cut my diesel bill considerably. They should last for at least 10 years, so will pay for themselves. I also want to lay some new lino for the floor, which is still very much in vogue on the inland waterways. This will probably be another couple of hundred pounds, and I will get some new curtains made up which will cost around the same. My spending now feels more purposeful Financially, I am certainly better off month-to-month for living on a narrowboat, although this needs to be weighed against the fact that it will not increase in value over time the way a house should. But I also feel I am getting a greater quality of life for my money, and my spending feels more purposeful. When I lived in a house, I did resent the fact that part of the higher bills we all pay are due to the neglect and oversight of others, leaving the poor old homeowner or renter to pick up the tab. Energy bills, water bills, council tax – it all seemed a case of 'pay more, get less', with no alternatives available. Our higher energy bills cover the cost of dozens of firms that collapsed due to unsustainable business models, for example, as well as the failings of a national energy strategy too dependent on unreliable overseas power. Recent plans to raise water bills are in part due to decades of shareholders creaming off profits that should have improved our failing infrastructure. And don't get me started on council tax bills and how local authorities manage their finances. Living on a boat does not completely insulate me from all this, bar council tax. But because I am now off-grid, it does mean that most bills are more likely to be a result of my own decisions or incompetence rather than someone else's, which sits a bit better with me. It is not a life that would suit everyone. For me, there have certainly been more joyful moments afloat, but many tougher ones too. There are always jobs to do, which involves constant triaging. There is also much less convenience, as I have no postcode and therefore cannot easily order things online – though many supermarkets will deliver to car parks and canal bridges, much to my delight. But for me, the trade-off has been worth it. Life on the canals has brought a level of calm, clarity and adventure I had not even realised I was missing, and I feel 10 years younger. And for now at least, I have no plans to go back.
BBC News
20-07-2025
- Climate
- BBC News
Manchester: Narrowboat homes 'at risk' from low water levels
About 50 narrowboat owners fear becoming homeless as falling water levels put their vessels at risk. Some at Islington Marina in Manchester said they were worried their floating homes could become damaged by the rugged base of the canal, or even keel over. Marina operator Waterpride Estates said it was "sympathetic" to its tenants' plight but said it was "at the mercy" of the Canal and River Trust (CRT), which maintains the Rochdale Canal and other waterways. A CRT spokesman said canal locks into Manchester have "temporarily been closed to navigation" to save water after recent dry weather. Despite some recent heavy rain, it is believed it could take several months' worth of rain to get water levels back to what they were. Martin Garside told BBC North West Tonight: "I work hard, but I wouldn't have the funds to revive the boat if it tipped on its side."I feel a little bit helpless and scared. I'm nervous as it's my home, my money. "It would affect my whole life, and I'm starting to feel angry." Marcus Brown, who has lived in the marina since 2018, said: "All we were asking for in a bit of engagement with the CRT."They're not responsible for us because we're in a private marina, but we pay the equivalent of council tax to them every year in licence fees to use the canal system."And most of us don't use the canal system unless we're taking our boat out for maintenance."Now we're in a situation where we can't take our boat out and we're running out of water."A CRT spokesman said: "We want to get the canal back open and available for boats as soon as possible, but this will require significant rainfall to replenish water availability to sufficient levels."The spokesman added there had been "some leakage" at a local lock gate, but it was considered to be "in good condition and... not scheduled for replacement". A Waterpride Estates spokesman said the firm "pays a substantial fee to CRT for the water in the marina as well as the right to be connected to the canal system", adding: "Sadly, we are at the mercy of the CRT, as they are ultimately responsible for the water levels."But, he said, the company "understood that water supply is scarce with loss of water occurring throughout the whole canal network".The spokesman said the firm would work with the CRT and support tenants to find a solution. Listen to the best of BBC Radio Manchester on Sounds and follow BBC Manchester on Facebook, X, and Instagram. You can also send story ideas via Whatsapp to 0808 100 2230.
The Sun
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Sun
I live in London's posh Notting Hill but don't pay rent thanks to 30ft narrowboat – people are baffled by my bathroom
WHILST most Londoners are blowing their wages on shoebox-sized flats and sky-high bills, one savvy woman has found a genius way to dodge the capital's rental chaos. Shannon Roselane, an artist and video producer in her twenties, lives on a 30ft narrowboat moored in one of the capital's poshest postcodes. 4 And instead of handing over thousands a month like her mates, she keeps her total living costs to a jaw-dropping £500 per month. She's managed to bag one of the most enviable addresses in London 's Notting Hill without shelling out for rent because she doesn't pay any. Shannon owns her boat outright after snapping it up for £24,000 with help from a bank loan, and now her only regular payments are the loan repayments and day-to-day essentials like gas. The boat is solar-powered so she also doesn't have to pay any electricity bills. She told @joinrently "we're basically in Notting Hill and I'm paying £500 a month you'd never be able to do that". And although her entire home is barely wider than a hallway, it's bursting with charm – from a galley kitchen with a tiny gas cooker to solar-powered lights and a self-made mini version of the boat itself. She even has an open hatch where she waves at ducks and nosy passers-by. But life on the water isn't all sunsets and swans and Shannon doesn't shy away from showing the gritty side. On TikTok, where she shares her off-grid adventures under the name @thatweirdboatgirl, she's built a loyal following who tune in to watch her tackle the ups and downs of boat life. And it seems there has been plenty. We bought a mouldy narrowboat on Facebook Marketplace to live in - we slept on an airbed but save £10.5k on London rent From a toilet explosion to an incident where the entire boat "nearly sank", Shannon's had more than her fair share of drama. One mooring disaster left her in tears after a fellow boater shouted at her just for tying up. On another occasion, she returned from a short holiday to find someone had nicked part of her battery system, leaving her without electricity for weeks. And the bathroom situation isn't exactly glamorous. With no plumbing, she relies on a cassette toilet, which is essentially a glorified bucket that has to be emptied by hand. She's not shy in admitting it's "the worst part" of boat life. Her narrowboat doesn't have a proper bathroom or running water, and storage is so tight that clothes are crammed into every corner, often spilling onto her bed. Her fridge runs on 12 volts, powered by solar panels, and she heats her home the old-school way, with layers and hot water bottles. Still, for all the chaos and cramped quarters, there's one thing her floating lifestyle gives her that city flats never could and it's freedom. Because she doesn't have a permanent mooring, Shannon's required to move every two weeks – a rule that's actually become one of her favourite parts of the lifestyle. If she ends up next to nightmare neighbours or gets bored of a location, she simply casts off and finds a new view. And even with no garden or balcony, Shannon makes the most of the canal towpath, turning it into a performance space for her Tiny Boat Sessions – a project where she invites musicians aboard to film live gigs as they gently cruise through London's waterways. The Pros and Cons of Living on a narrowboat It might seem an idyllic lifestyle living on a narrowboat and taking this at a slower pace but it's not always plain sailing. The Pros Freedom – you get to choose where you stay and can move from the countryside to a city in possibly a few hours. If you don't like your neighbours you can simply move. Work anywhere – remote working has shot up with the Covid-19 pandemic and what could be better than working from a barge. Declutter your lifestyle – There's not a lot of space on a narrowboat but this can be an advantage as it forces your to get rid of things you don't actually really need. Decluttering your life can do wonders for your wellbeing. Life at a slower pace – anyone fed up of the 9-5 rat race and the pressure to earn money to pay for high-cost living can benefit from the easy-going life on a barge. More environmentally friendly – while not entirely carbon neutral, living on a narrowboat can help the environment as you use less electricity, gas and fuel. Improve fitness – living on a narrowboat doesn't suit a sedentary lifestyle. There are endless tasks that will keep you active, such as operating locks, carrying coal and gas canisters, toilets to empty, wood to chop and weed hatches to clear. Sense of community – many boaters feel a strong sense of community as they are with like-minded people to share tips and advice. Saving money – one big advantage is the amount of money you can save. Big savings can be made on monthly living costs not only from using less gas and electricity but you don't have any costly mortgage or rent payments to cover. The Cons Having to plan ahead – if you have a cruising licence you will need to move every 14 days, so you have to think about the future, where to next, do you have enough supplies to get there? Limited space – narrowboats are restricted in space and you may find you feel claustrophobic living in a confined space. Plus, you may have to chuck out some prized possessions to fit everything you need in. Lack of security – criminals may see a narrowboat as an easy target and you may need to invest in some quality security to keep your things safe. Maintenance – Beware that you will need to learn about engine maintenance, such as how to repair a bilge pump or water pump. You will also need to ensure it is properly insulated and ventilated or you could be battling dampness and condensation. The cost – while living on a boat is certainly cheaper than living in a property, it is not cost free. You have to pay for things like: a Canal and River Trust licence, insurance, engine and pump maintenance, blacking the hull, as well as running costs such as fuel and a TV licence. Her followers are obsessed with the quirky lifestyle, although many admit they had no idea quite how tough it could be. Shannon keeps it real, showing both the dreamy moments and the difficult ones. It may be wobbly and cold at times, but for Shannon, it's home and she wouldn't trade it for a pricey flat or a life stuck paying someone else's mortgage. Before now, Shannon was living in a shared house with two friends - originally paying £900-a-month until her landlord upped her rent to £1,000-a-month. The 29-year-old was having a stroll the Kings Cross canal in October 2022 when she came across a narrowboat for sale. Shannon said it was a "no-brainer" to move onto a boat and is now saving thousands a year. She said: "I saw the boat and thought 'what if?'. "I texted the owner and we set up a viewing for the following week. "As soon as I saw the boat itself I saw it was £24k and I worked out that paying my loan from the bank to afford it would be £300-a-month. "That is a massive saving from what I was paying in my house share." Meanwhile, Shannon's not the only one who's swapped a home for a life on the canal. Robbie Cumming has been living on a narrowboat for a decade and has revealed everything about his life on the new series of Canal Boat Diaries. He claims it's the best way to holiday in the UK. 4 4
Daily Mail
21-06-2025
- Daily Mail
Boater by Jo Bell: I sold my home to buy a narrowboat
Boater by Jo Bell (HarperNorth £16.99, 304pp) What should you do if you feel overwhelmed by all that clutter in your house? For archaeologist Jo Bell the answer was simple: get rid of almost all your possessions and move to somewhere that is just 7ft wide and 65ft long, where you can 'stay in motion but always be at home'. In short, get a narrowboat. After working on a project to conserve a collection of canal boats, and spending time living on boats, she began to feel 'encumbered' by her tiny cottage near the Stratford canal. 'I didn't have much, but it felt too much,' she writes. Bell decided to sell the house and buy a narrowboat instead. Narrowboats, designed to navigate locks and canals, are skinnier than barges. To confuse narrowboats and barges 'is like mistaking a whippet for a St Bernard', Bell says sternly. People who travel on narrowboats are called boaters, not sailors, and saying 'river' instead of 'canal' is a terrible solecism. Bell regards Britain's canals – most of which are no more than 5ft deep – as 'one of the great achievements of human endeavour… more precious than Stonehenge'. In the 18th century, as rutted roads made transporting goods cumbersome, the idea of a network of canals became increasingly attractive. Privately funded canals linking rivers such as the Trent, Mersey, Thames and Humber were built in a decade. The sturdy green and red boat that was to be Bell's new home was named Tinker. She rather skates over the bathroom arrangements but says that, contrary to popular belief, narrowboats aren't freezing cold in winter. If anything, the small space tends to get overheated thanks to a log-burning stove. Her early months as a boater were full of trial and error, but gradually she got more confident, even mastering the knack of hovering mid-channel with perfect control while waiting for a lock to open. (The double mitre canal lock, still in use today, which uses the force of water to keep the gates sealed, is one of the great Leonardo da Vinci's inventions.) She makes life on a boat sound a tremendous adventure. Light raindrops on the roof sound like grains of rice rattling on a tin tray. Friends with babies love visiting as the rocking of the boat sends the most fractious child to sleep. The canal network, Bell writes, is a magical place, 'a parallel country with its own landmarks and place names'. After 12 years she reluctantly replaced Tinker with a new boat, called Stoic. It seems Bell will never give up life on water, where she and her fellow boaters travel at three miles an hour and 'navigate by different stars'.
Telegraph
09-06-2025
- Telegraph
The beautiful Welsh canal that's fighting closure
Setting off in a hired narrowboat, there is a choice of two directions: left or right. From Beacon Park Boats, on the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal near Llangattock, one direction – according to the company's illustrated map – promises 'a totally relaxed, stress-free and lock-free weekend'. The sales pitch for the other direction (north) read: 'Tackle the Llangyndir lock-flight'. There are few weekends during which I enjoy any kind of tackling. But that is the direction we chose. Meanwhile, a group of youngsters – first-time boaters, unlike our party – headed south with copious bottles of alcohol cooling in an ice-box on their back deck. It started well. In the company of Sam, a member of staff from whom we learnt the ropes, we cruised past historic lime kilns, around bends and under old stone bridges. A flat-topped mountain and escarpments rose high above us. We moored opposite a sloping field of bleating sheep and frothy hawthorn blossom; fluffy ducklings cheeped on petal-strewn, glittering water. We wandered down to a village pub. Surely this direction promised a relaxing weekend too? The next day, the stress began. It wasn't the five locks that were the problem (volunteer lock keepers on duty made them easy work) it was the depth – or lack of it – of the water. This isolated 35-mile canal has always been shallow – 'it was built on the cheap,' said one lock keeper – and, as a result, has a notional speed limit of 2mph, half that of other canals. We were also in the biggest boat in the Beacon Park Boats fleet: Drake, 60ft 12 in long and 8ft 6 in wide. This meant lots of twists and turns. Each of Beacon Park's boats is unique, designed by owner Alasdair Kirkpatrick, inspired by his love of fancy yachts. One vessel has a four-poster bed, another has a hot-tub on the front deck. With touches such as complimentary decanters of Welsh Penderyn whisky, they are the most expensive canal boats to hire in the country. Three nights in June on Drake costs over £2,000. What would those early boatmen who laboured with cargoes of coal and limestone think? With its interior of highly varnished red cherry wood and ash stripes, the boat brought to mind a circus tent. This proved apt. Before long, we found ourselves in the middle of a five-boat log-jam all going aground in the shallow canal. Passers-by on the towpath stopped to enjoy the spectacle. Barge poles flailed everywhere. Skippers shouted advice over the growl of engines. Hulls scraped over stones. One hiker offered to help, so we threw him our bow rope and he heaved like a horse. An old man on a bike stopped to yell insults. Some laughed, some cried. Eventually, just as I was wondering whether someone would start a trapeze act from the towering trees overhead, the log-jam began to shift and one by one the boats freed themselves and continued on their way. Skippers smiled and cheered. Our northward journey that day – a grand total of seven miles and five locks – took nine hours. On any other canal, you would estimate a journey time of about four hours. Turning around in the silted-up winding hole was a challenge. Again, people stopped to enjoy the entertainment. While it is true that this canal has always been shallow, there were boaters who said they thought it was more shallow than usual. 'We didn't have any problems last time we came, but we've been truly stuck this time. We had to ask for help,' said Helen Thurber who, with her husband Bob, had flown in from their home in the US. This was their third time to cruise on the Monmouthshire and Brecon. The long dry spring which has resulted in the closure of some inland waterways, such as the Rochdale Canal, the Leeds and Liverpool Canal and the Pocklington Canal, nearly saw the closure of this one too. Lack of rain and new legislation designed to protect the ecology of the River Usk that feeds the canal, meant the 'Mon & Brec', which is estimated to bring in £25 million to the local economy, faced the prospect of closing to navigation. An emergency stop-gap solution has now been agreed, with the Canal & River Trust (CRT) paying Welsh Water for supplies. Richard Parry, chief Executive of the CRT, says this could cost as much as £100,000 a week if the dry spell continues. Kirkpatrick is concerned about the implications. 'This canal is too important to fail, so CRT will pay Welsh Water silly money to keep it open and the rest of the canal network will suffer,' he says. ' Lack of rain in Wales – yes, surprising – will mean funding cuts across the rest of the inland waterways.' The youngsters who had headed south returned to base a few hours after us, their ice-box of drinks now empty. 'How was it?' I asked. 'We got stuck for two and a half hours!' said one of the party, Joe Richardson, from Essex. It wasn't the shallow water that was their undoing. They had tried to turn in a winding hole that was too short for their boat. Then they had to reverse for an hour and a half to get back to the winding hole they should have used. It sounded anything but 'relaxed and stress-free'. Despite this, Joe was upbeat. 'We'd definitely come back. We loved the scenery and the boat,' he said. 'Although next time we might choose a smaller one.' The beauty of this isolated canal, with its views of mountains glimpsed through trees, is unsurpassed. In the spring sunshine it was glorious. As well as two long days cruising, we found time for hikes: over a sheep-grazed hill with far-reaching views, and to the top of the escarpments above Llangattock. A cuckoo called, lambs bleated, the air was full of the scent of hawthorn. Mercifully, just as we were leaving, it began to rain.
