The idea of living on a houseboat often brings to mind lazy afternoons, gentle rocking on the water, and golden sunsets over a quiet river. But if you ask someone who’s spent real time calling a boat “home,” you’ll hear a much different version—one that involves early mornings, diesel fumes, unexpected repairs, and a surprising amount of teamwork. It’s not about lounging around all day; it’s about living with intention, staying present, and being part of every moment.
For one Minnesota-based family, houseboat life isn’t just a summer hobby—it’s a deeply rooted seasonal tradition. Each year, they trade their landlocked life for several weeks on the Mississippi River, traveling south in their restored motorboat. It’s an unconventional way of life that’s shaped their routines, challenged their patience, and left them with some of the most meaningful family memories.
Where It All Began

The whole idea took shape during the early months of the pandemic. After welcoming their third child, the parents started reflecting on what kind of childhood they wanted to offer. The mom grew up road-tripping the California coast in a VW van, while the dad spent his summers sailing the Scandinavian fjords. Both had experienced mobile living, and both wanted to bring that back—this time, not on wheels, but on water.
And no, they didn’t grow up boating. The mom jokingly says she was more of a “land traveler” and had zero sailing experience. Her husband had sailed as a kid, but the transition to a large motorboat was new for both of them. With a quick lesson from a local captain, and their teenage son learning to steer as well, the family was soon navigating one of America’s most iconic rivers.
Why the Mississippi?
With Minnesota’s countless lakes, choosing the Mississippi River might sound odd. But for this family, the lakes felt a little too static. The river, on the other hand, offered movement, challenge, and exploration. Their boat docks on the St. Croix River—an offshoot near the northern tip of the Mississippi—and each summer they travel as far south as time allows before heading back.
The river isn’t just a backdrop—it’s part of the lifestyle. From navigating locks and dams to calling ahead for a slip at a small riverside town, every day brings a new task and new interactions.
Buying (and Fixing Up) a Vintage Houseboat

Their houseboat—named Freya—was nearly 40 years old when they found it. The interior had original teak wood, which won the mom over, reminding her of the rustic, retro aesthetic she loved from her van days.
The boat needed work, though. They repainted the exterior, removed canvas that covered the windows, ripped out the old carpet, and added parquet floors. Lighting was updated, and the kitchen got a fresh look with new counters and upholstery. Even the toilets became a design decision—almond-colored ones were chosen to better match the original vibe.
They kept as much of the original cabinetry and woodwork as possible. The goal wasn’t to modernize everything—it was to make the space feel warm, intentional, and true to its character.
Making It Feel Like Home
Inside, the space feels more like a small cabin than a boat. Rugs soften the floor, art covers access panels (yes, everything has a mechanical function), and marine-grade lighting was replaced with softer, home-style fixtures.
Curtains were carefully chosen to balance function with comfort, and while everything needs to be practical, it also has to feel like a home. Even their dog, Gus—a chill 80-pound Bernadoodle—has his place, complete with his own life jacket and a somewhat clumsy ramp for getting on and off the boat.
What a Day on the Water Really Looks Like
Forget lazy days in the sun. Houseboat living is full-on. Most mornings start with the boat in motion while breakfast is being made. The engine’s loud, which actually works out—there’s no multitasking with Zoom calls or screen time. The engine forces everyone to be present.
They pass through several locks and interact with barge traffic, which requires coordination and quick response. When it’s time to go through a dam, it’s “all hands on deck.” Everyone has a job.
Meals are simple and usually eaten onboard. Afternoons might include a beach stop via dinghy so the dog can run and the kids can play. Nap time happens with the engine humming below deck—oddly enough, the noise acts like a giant white noise machine, knocking the kids out cold. The mom laughs that they’ll probably grow up associating engine rumble with comfort and safety.
The Routine—And the Surprises

While each day follows a similar rhythm, something always comes up. Whether it’s a failing generator, a broken part, or just needing to wait an extra day for a replacement, boat life constantly shifts between routine and problem-solving.
The family sticks to a strict schedule but stays flexible. Their boat has a full kitchen, two bathrooms, and multiple beds (including sofas that convert into sleeping spaces). It’s tight, but it works.
Docking in different towns adds another layer of fun—and cost. Slips are about the same price as a hotel room, and diesel isn’t cheap. Before they got a dog, they’d sometimes anchor mid-river for free. Now, they prefer to dock so the dog can get to shore.
Is It Worth It?
It’s not glamorous. It’s definitely not easy. But it’s something real. The kind of life that makes you slow down, pay attention, and work together.
“You don’t just sit back and let the day unfold,” the mom said. “You have to be in it. You have to pay attention. And when you’re doing that, it turns into something special—something you’ll remember forever.”
That’s the truth of houseboat living. It’s not about drifting. It’s about showing up every day—fully—and building something unforgettable along the way.