The downsides of onboard life?

I've posed the title to this post as a kind of question because it's something I'm thinking about at the moment while writing a piece about living in the Netherlands and what the challenges and charms of living here have been. And when I say I'm thinking about it, that's not quite true, because my mind's gone blank. I can come up with, and have written about, all the upsides of life on board, but for me it's hard to contemplate negatives when I have embraced the lifestyle so wholeheartedly.

Oude Haven, Rotterdam

Admittedly, I don't live on board all the time these days. I've never been a city person, so as soon as I could, I found a weekend getaway. At first, that was the barge in Brussels, but since 2007, it's been the crumbly cottage in Zeeland, and for the past ten months, I've been there more than in Rotterdam, so the balance has changed somewhat. Being rural and quite remote, Zeeland has given us space to breathe during Corona time. I also have a better internet connection there, which has been important for conducting online lessons. But I'm still in Rotterdam for some part of every week, and hope that will increase in the coming months as things settle (fingers crossed!)

Space to breathe in Zeeland

In a sense, then, living in an inner-city harbour is a downside, but it's not a negative of life on a boat as such. So what are the real drawbacks?

I think part of it depends on the kind of boat you have. Mine is classified as a monument and so I can't change its outer profile. This means I can't have windows in the sides as it wouldn't comply with the authenticity requirements. It also means it can be rather dark in winter when I have to keep the hatch closed. With the ceiling being low and little light coming in through the roof window, it can be a bit gloomy inside. But that's just my Vereeniging. On our holiday boat, the Hennie H, there are windows all round; it remains light and airy and I'd happily stay on board all year round if it were big enough.

The Hennie H has windows all around it

Okay, so cancel that one. What else is a downside? Well, maybe filling the water tanks and diesel tank during the winter? That can be a mission if it's raining and cold. I normally try and time it for a dry day at least, if not a sunny one. The routine itself is something I enjoy and is part of what makes onboard existence special, but it's definitely less fun when the wind is howling, the temperature is below zero or the rain is lashing down. Do you sense just a slight hint of understatement here?

A gloomy, wet day in the harbour

There's also the issue of the floor being cold in winter. Because I don't have insulation or underfloor heating (which many more luxurious barges have), I can walk around in a tee-shirt inside when the heater is on; my upper half is toasty warm, but I always need thick socks and furry boots on my feet. The floor never warms up. Ever.

My winter foot warmers

So what else is a minpunt? (as the Dutch would say). Well, living on a tidal river certainly has its plus sides for sure; I like the rhythms of the tides and the life they bring to the water. However, it can be tricky when you want to transport heavy stuff onto the boat. If the water is very high, it means carrying things up a steep ramp from the quay and then having to get down onto the deck from an angle – not handy if you're clutching a big box and can't see where you're going. 

High water on the terraces
(Photo borrowed from Picuki.com)

Many's the time I've had to put my load down on the gangplank, climb over or shuffle round it, step back onto the deck (hoping my feet will land and not slide out from under me) and then haul said box up over the edge and down again, trusting that we, the box and me, won't end up in an awkward, slightly embarassing horizontal embrace; after all, it's where the verb 'to deck' someone came from, I'm sure. If you bear in mind the gangplank is only about 50cm wide and I wear boots with dinner plate souls, it's the boaty version of a tightrope. By the way, it's even more fun when the tide is out and the water is very low, but I've written about that challenge before. Mount Eiger comes to mind when climbing up to the quay. Generally speaking, though, these extremes only happen in winter.

Extreme low water in the Oude Haven

The only other downside I can think of is when it rains heavily. The noise on the hatches can be deafening. I don't like it much then because not only am I shut into the gloom with everything closed, the drumming of the raindrops can make me feel quite claustrophobic. However, this is mostly a winter problem too, as (of course) is snow and ice on the deck, which can be very unnerving. Skating down to my entrance hatch is not my idea of fun, especially if it's on my rear end.

So, when it comes down to it, it's not the boat that's the problem, is it? It's winter. Everyone one of my downsides is related to that most unfavourable of seasons, which brings me back to my question: what are the downsides of living on board? Well, none, actually ... However, if we could only banish winter...

Happy new year, allemaal, keep healthy, keep busy and above all, keep visiting my blog. I enjoy your company and am ever grateful for the interest, comments and kindness I've received here over the years.