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Why I Ditched Rent Forever: My Unexpected Life on a Boat
Fed up with skyrocketing rents, I chose a floating life—and it changed everything.

Escaping the Rental Crisis: Living on a Houseboat in London
Introduction
Meet Shannon, a Londoner who traded the soaring costs of city rentals for a unique lifestyle on a houseboat. Amid a housing crisis, she found an innovative solution, paying just £800 a year to live in some of London’s most desirable areas. This article explores her journey, her floating home, and the challenges and joys of life on the water.

From East London to a Houseboat
Shannon used to live in a three-bedroom house in East London, paying £900 a month for a single small room. When her landlady announced a rent increase, Shannon faced a dilemma. “I couldn’t afford it, and I basically started panicking,” she recalls. Unable to save due to London’s high living costs, she stumbled upon a houseboat for sale and fell in love instantly. Priced at £24,000, the boat was a significant investment, but with a bank loan, her monthly payments dropped to £300—far less than her previous rent.
Her total monthly costs, including the loan, licensing fees to the Canal and River Trust (£800 annually), gas, and seasonal coal or wood for heating, come to around £400–£500. “That’s owning a property, not going to a landlord,” Shannon says proudly.

A Tour of the Humble Abode
Shannon’s houseboat is a compact yet cleverly designed space. The bedroom, or “bed nook,” is cozy, with a curtain for privacy and storage tucked beneath and around it. A fold-out dining table maximizes space, and custom-made window covers insulate against the cold. The galley kitchen features a gas oven, hob, whistling kettle, and a 12-volt fridge-freezer powered by solar panels. “A lot of people were surprised that I actually have a fridge,” Shannon notes, though she admits it struggles when solar power is low.
A wood burner keeps the boat warm in winter, though it requires effort. “I’d never made a fire in my life,” Shannon says. “Now I’m better, but it’s quite fun.” However, the cold can be brutal—once, her dog’s water bowl and a cup of tea froze solid overnight. A projector serves as her entertainment system, turning a wall into a cinema screen for movie nights.
The toilet, a cassette system, is less glamorous. Waste is emptied at Elsan points along the canal, a process Shannon describes as “pretty grim.” A mishap early on, when the cassette wasn’t properly secured, led to a messy spill into her bedroom—“one of the worst experiences ever, but it’s character-building,” she says with a laugh.

The Challenges of Continuous Cruising
As a continuous cruiser, Shannon must move her boat every two weeks, covering a minimum distance (around a mile or so) as mandated by the Canal and River Trust (CRT). An app helps her track where to moor next. “It’s a pain,” she admits, especially when leaving a favorite spot or a convenient location near friends or pubs. However, continuous cruising keeps costs low, avoiding the £900 monthly mooring fees for permanent spots, which are often auctioned to the highest bidder.
The CRT’s licensing fee of £800 a year covers waterway maintenance, including locks, taps, and toilet facilities. However, a recent CRT commission reviewing continuous cruising legislation has raised concerns among houseboaters. While aimed at addressing “pirate” boaters who evade fees or rules, many fear rule-abiding cruisers like Shannon could face new restrictions, potentially forcing them to pay high mooring fees.

Life on Display
Living on a houseboat in tourist-heavy areas like Camden or King’s Cross comes with its quirks. “People literally peer into my windows,” Shannon says. While she’s unbothered by curious children, adults staring while she eats make her feel like “a goldfish in a tank.” Privacy is a challenge, but she’s adapted with curtains and a sense of humor.
Safety is another consideration, especially as a woman living alone. Shannon feels generally safe but has had unsettling experiences. Once, while working with the door open, she felt the boat move and discovered a man attempting to board, with another watching. “They thought no one was here,” she says. The incident prompted her to upgrade security with new locks, alarms, and warning signs.
A Creative Outlet: Tiny Boat Sessions
Shannon’s creativity shines through in her project, Tiny Boat Sessions, where she hosts musicians like Lois Leven to perform on her boat. Initially filmed indoors, she’s now re-releasing the series with outdoor performances. “I set up the camera on the door, and we’re basically sitting here,” she explains, showcasing how her boat doubles as a stage for local talent.
Is This a Solution to the Housing Crisis?
Shannon’s lifestyle offers a glimpse into an unconventional response to London’s housing crisis. However, she cautions that it’s not for everyone. “It’s a solution, but it’s such a different life,” she says. “You shouldn’t do it just to have somewhere to live.” The challenges—maintaining a wood burner, managing a cassette toilet, and navigating the constant need to move—require commitment and adaptability.
Conclusion
Shannon’s houseboat is more than a home; it’s a statement of resilience and resourcefulness. For £800 a year, she lives in London’s most coveted areas, free from the burden of exorbitant rents. Yet, her story also highlights the trade-offs: the cold, the lack of privacy, and the uncertainty of potential regulatory changes. For Shannon, the freedom and affordability of life on the water outweigh the challenges, proving that even in a city as expensive as London, there’s room for creative solutions.