Why I Chose the Liveaboard Life (and Haven’t Looked Back)

The Moment “Why?” Hit Me Hard

I was sitting in a crappy Toronto hotel room, surrounded by the hum of city bustle—far from being at peace. And then I asked myself, “Why? What was the point of all this?”

That was the end of my fourth crash: from a tent in North Bay, to couch surfing, rebuilding in Blind River, succumbing to the comfort of buying again… and then, the Sudbury economic collapse and hotel-room meltdown. The realization hit: I was running in circles, buying into “normal” life again and again—only to find it collapsing under me.

Freeing Up by Letting Go

I’d been paying storage rent month after month for things I didn’t even use. Storage units can run anywhere from $60–$150 a month for small spaces, and hundreds more for larger ones. That’s money gone with no return.

So I ditched the storage, purged the so-called “heirlooms” (often just pressboard junk wrapped in sentimentality), and opted for my first sailboat. By subtracting stuff, I gained freedom.

Cars, Bikes, and the Status Trap

I’ll admit, I miss my old ’92 Honda Accord—reliable, simple, cheap on gas and insurance. New cars, on the other hand, are a wealth drain disguised as “convenience.” They lose 20–30% of their value the first year, and up to 60% by year five.

So when I realized most of my career kept me in Toronto, I swapped the dream-car pressure for a bicycle. It saved money, it helped me drop weight I’d gained when I stopped riding, and it gave me back autonomy.

Living Afloat vs. Living Ashore

Let’s be clear: BOAT really does stand for “Break Out Another Thousand.” Maintenance is real. But when you compare the costs, it still makes sense.

Living on the water in Toronto for less than most apartments means I get privacy, waterfront property, and independence—without sharing a cramped condo or paying sky-high rent.

And today, I share that life with my father. We both live aboard the same boat, and we’re even considering a second—so we can each have one to sail together.

The “Alternative Lifestyle” Trap

Boat life isn’t a magic fix. The marine industry has its own shiny-object problem: endless gadgets, overpriced “must-have” gear, and luxury upgrades pretending to be essentials.

It’s the same marketing machine, just with ropes and brass. The smarter path is to research what your actual boat needs—and more importantly, what you need. Not everything that glitters in a chandlery is worth your hard-earned money.

(Choosing the right boat for your life is a whole post on its own—coming soon.)

Why It All Worked (For Me)

• The Math: More freedom and a near-water lifestyle for less money.
• The Joy: Privacy, flexibility, sunsets instead of walls.
• The Clarity: Minimalism meant fewer expenses—financial and mental.

A Note to You: What’s Worth It, For You?

Maybe you’d never live on a boat—and that’s perfectly fine. The point isn’t floating—it’s thinking for yourself.

Marketing sells “one-size-fits-all”—a gated condo, a brand-new SUV, the latest gadget. But life isn’t one-size-fits-all. Ask yourself:

• What serves your life, and what just serves marketing’s glitz?
• What hidden bills are you paying out of habit?
• Where could you have more freedom, for less?

Don’t buy the shiny trap, whether it’s a condo or a yacht. Choose what gives you value, autonomy, and peace—not what sells you status.

Freedom comes when you stop paying for a life that doesn’t fit you.