Life on Lake Ontario: the realities of living afloat year-round

By Kayla Solway and Sofie Gelder

January 25, 2026

The November wind rolls off Lake Ontario, thrashing through bare trees and battering the few sailboats still on the water. Amid the symphony of soaring seagulls, Kendrah Eff sits in her warm lamp-lit kitchen, with her hands wrapped around a cup of tea. Her partner, Austin Giblen, leans against their full-size stainless-steel fridge — an enticing and atypical feature in this space — as they discuss mundane plans. Surveying from the other room is their beloved Chartreux cat.

As they move about their day, the floor rocks gently back and forth beneath their feet — the steady sway of The Scenic Route II, a 37-foot motorboat owned by the millennial couple that is docked in an Ontario yacht club. 

Last year, the couple traded renting for ownership: a boat amongst other liveaboards in a GTA marina. The two are no strangers to alternative living. Eight years ago, they spent nine months living in a van travelling around the east coast of Canada and relying on photography to cover expenses. Although they loved the adventure, a boat felt more sustainable and permanent. They even tried going conventional after the van, spending five years renting a house in Toronto. The experience only reinforced what they didn't want: a landlord's restrictions and the inability to make a space truly theirs. 

For a small community of liveaboards on Lake Ontario, home isn't defined by square footage or a fixed address.  As winter tightens its grip on the lake, year-round liveaboards settle into a lifestyle defined by an ebb and flow of maintenance, mutual reliance and resourcefulness. 

“Prepare sooner for everything,” Eff said. “In early November, we had a big snowfall, and it was -3oC. We were not ready for that. I woke up one morning, and it was 12oC inside the boat.” 

That was a wake-up call for the couple. They promptly installed a diesel heater and have since wrapped their boat in single-use plastic called "shrink wrap" to insulate their home and keep snow and ice off the exterior, a common solution among many liveaboards. It is a painful compromise for two environmentally conscious people.

"The thing that hurts me the most is that all of this plastic on all of these boats gets thrown in the garbage. A lot of places don't even recycle it," Eff explains. 

It's during these harsh winter months, when the shores start to freeze, that they long for the summer when breakfast and coffee can be taken on the upper deck. These moments offer validation of their decision to leave city life behind. Here, anchored in and amongst an ecosystem of diverse wildlife, they are active participants in its rhythms, sounds, and constant changes. 

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Unlike Eff and Giblen, Alicia Dudezki, the General Manager at Bluffer's Park Marina (BPM), grew up in the boating world. Every day, prospective liveaboards call the marina, hoping to join the waitlist. Those who make it to the top of the list must prove that they are capable of the work. That's why BPM requires a summer-long trial to learn the ropes.

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After the trial, when the liveaboards agree to take on this lifestyle, it's almost inevitable that many mistakes are still to be made. For example, the installation of common residential appliances in marine structures, like flushing toilets, has put strain on BPM’s infrastructure in the past. 

“The sewage-holding tank can leak if it isn’t sealed properly,” Dudezski said, emphasizing that prevention requires action from both management and residents

“The expectations of those who didn’t do their research don't match what the facilities and the environment can sustain, and it's caused intense problems for both the managerial side and the residents' side,” said Dudezki.

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David Gordon, 63, has been living on the water for nearly 40 years. He's been at BPM since 2015 on his 53-foot sailboat and is a veteran in the community.

In the early days, after a particularly cold night, Gordon wondered if his then partner would bail. When frigid arctic air hits the marina, first-year liveaboards often endure miserable, sleepless nights before learning how to heat their space properly.

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Reluctant to stay cooped up for months on end, as many do, Gordon found a way to coax people out to enjoy a unique feature of living on water in the winter—a natural ice rink.

​Beyond the creative winter activities, liveaboards also navigate unexpected technical challenges.

Gordon explains that the “oil ring effect,” which happens in boats with running water, isn't caused by fuel leaks, but instead by any oil that gets flushed down the drain.

Unlike residential homes, wastewater from dishes enters into a sewage system, where it is sanitized, and then released into Lake Ontario. On boats however, wastewater flows directly into the lake.

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Gordon’s mindfulness of the impact that seemingly innocuous human activities can have on the lake's integrity is akin to maintaining a healthy front lawn, especially since water behaves very differently from grass or concrete. Toxic substances, garbage, and oil are hard to contain once they make their way into the lake.

A marina is like a cul-de-sac on water. "Everyone's got each other's back, and there is no shortage of things to get done," said Dudezki.

There is a good reason for the wait list at BPM. A supportive, tight-knit community, living on a great lake with quick access to the city, will always be in high demand.

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Marc Demeulemester called the west coast of France his home for nine years before coming to Toronto in 2021. Moving from France to one of Canada’s most expensive cities, he was shocked by the cost of living. Although buying a boat is often cheaper than buying a typical home upfront, between insurance, marina fees, fuel for a powerboat, repairs, and upgrades, the costs add up quickly.

Following a week-long trip, Demeulemester returned to his vessel, which had taken on water. His belongings were floating inside the cabin, prompting him to dry dock and begin repairs.

“When I purchased the boat, I didn’t know that it was sinking,” said Demeulemester. “At the beginning, I bought the boat for $20,000, but by the end of the repairs, it was $100,000 as I had to refit the inside.”

Despite the time and money it took to undergo such a major restoration, Demeulemester had developed the skills, including plumbing, electricity, and mechanics, all essential to his goal of sailing across the Atlantic to return to his home in France.

“I learned all that because when you are in the middle of the Atlantic, you need to know how to fix anything by yourself,” he said.

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Once the repairs were complete, he was able to put his home back in the waters of Marina Quay West. Located in the heart of downtown, the 130-slip marina is adjacent to Toronto’s Music Garden on the central waterfront and offers views of the iconic CN Tower. Coming from France, Demeulemester describes being struck by the environmental negligence he sees in Canada: taps running with no purpose or cigarette butts being discarded into the water. On his boat, he does his part by carefully managing his resources, ensuring every litre of water and drop of fuel counts.

Demeulemester’s 48-foot sailboat, with its dark-wood interior, is a sailor's dream. The cozy living space provides both him and his guests a seating area and a place to play one of his many musical instruments. His kitchen features a bar and a stove mounted on pivoting supports, known as gimbals, that keep items level despite the boat's rocking.

In addition to being downtown, Demeulemester also has the perk of living just steps from his summer job. On the dock next to him is the Empire Sandy, one of Canada’s largest tall ships, where he is a bartender.

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“It’s pretty cool to have my place and my work on the same dock, usually my customers are my neighbours,” said Demeulemester. “People know me, and we help each other quite a lot.”

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Similar to Gordon, he has experienced a sense of community through his involvement in a cycle of reciprocity. Whether it's constant repairs, engine trouble, or just lending tools, the liveaboard community supports each other with all of the above.

This unconventional living arrangement has stood the test of time worldwide, not just on Lake Ontario. It exists as a viable option for the right person, like someone looking for a hands-on opportunity to connect not only with the space they own, but also with the neighbours and wildlife they share with the ecosystem.

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While it isn’t easy, living on the lake holds merit for these Ontario liveaboards

"You have to want something different for yourself and your life, and then you’ll love it,” reflects Eff. “It’s a lot of work, and it’s a different kind of work than living in a house, but it all comes back to: It’s worth it.”