Lucy Gilliam, PhD, and Captain Arjen van der Veen are water people—it’s their life’s work. She is an environmental scientist; he founded a green freight shipping company. But water is also their home. Along with their 10-year-old son, Thor, they live on The Queen Bee, a 1908 flat bottom Groninger tjalk sailing boat, docked in a historic harbor in Rotterdam. “We both lived and worked on ships before meeting each other, so purchasing a ship to raise Thor made sense,” Gilliam tells AD.
Eight years ago, Gilliam and van der Veen bought The Queen Bee with plans to renovate it. While Giliam worked and lived in Brussels, van der Veen was a stay-at-home dad focused on rebuilding and remodeling the vessel to make it sea- and home-worthy. Stepping onto The Queen Bee, the mast and boom dominate the 85-foot deck. Stairs as steep as a ladder lead to the Bee’s living space, which was converted from the ship’s original cargo into a surprisingly spacious, soft timber interior that opens up to Thor’s bedroom in the front of the vessel.
When they purchased the vessel, “It was docked in an ideal location in Rotterdam for both of us needing to travel extensively for work, excellent central city amenities, and a haven for Thor with a nearby school,” Giliam tells me during a visit one late spring afternoon.
Living on a ship, even within the urban cityscape, the rhythms of nature are inescapable. Small windows let in light reflected from the water. For alfresco dining, the family regularly carries chairs to the back deck where the hatch doubles as a table. A cross breeze moves in time to the water’s sway, creating a gentle quiet in the central living room where a wood-burning stove acts as the primary heat source in the winter.
“We’ve created a lot of practical living space from a small area. But it’s the rich life living on the water that we love,” Gilliam explains.
Water living can be an attractive option for those seeking an alternative and more affordable lifestyle in an expensive area
In a country where more than a quarter of the landmass is below sea level and boats are ubiquitous, Gilliam and Van der Veen’s decision to live on the water isn’t particularly novel. Indeed, it’s estimated that there are over 10,000 houseboats—some are converted ships and barges while others are purpose-built floating villas—across the Netherlands.
And while the Dutch may be among the most well-known for their houseboats, these communities can be found across the world. They’re dotted around London, Paris, and across Europe. In the US, Sausalito, California, Seattle, and Portland, Oregon, are all noted for their vibrant floating houses. And more broadly, all indications are that the number of people living in some kind of floating vessel will increase. According to Spherical Insights, a market research firm, the global houseboat industry is expected to grow significantly over the next 10 years. It predicts a 17.52% compound annual growth rate, with the total market value increasing from $1.5 billion in 2023 to $7.54 billion by 2033.
Gilliam and van der Veen—as well as many of their harbor neighbors—were drawn to ship living because it’s generally more affordable compared to other housing options in Rotterdam. After purchasing their ship, the couple pay $80 per month for insurance and $110 to $190 for mooring and harbor fees. In the winter, electricity can be around $175 per month, but this is offset in the summer by 10 solar panels installed on the top of the ship. Comparatively, the average cost to rent a three-bedroom apartment in Rotterdam’s city center is about $2,313.
The Dutch government, in principle, also sees houseboats and converted ships as potential answers to housing shortages in a country strapped for land. Further, floating homes may be more resilient to flooding and other climate disasters. As such, the government—particularly at the municipal level—is actively encouraging more floating homes through new zoning regulations; however, the process is slow, and the laws that govern floating houses are complex.
Conversely, as this type of housing gets more attractive, it also gets more expensive—an occurrence that is already happening in that nation’s capital. “The prices have soared, and the moorings are limited in Amsterdam,” explains Renate Meijer, publisher of VLOT, a magazine about floating life.
That said, if the right balance between affordability, accessibility, and sustainability can be struck, the water communities in the Netherlands can become proof-of-concept developments for other nations facing similar problems due to housing shortages and climate change.
Community is strong on the water
The Queen Bee is docked in the Bierhaven, a heritage ship community located within the Museum harbor of Rotterdam. Established in 2012 by a foundation called Erfgoedhavens Rotterdam, the historical harbor community was created with a mission to mark and preserve the rich maritime history of the Netherlands. Originally it was a designated location to dock historic trading boats in the working harbor; today, many of these ships have been converted into homes.
The residents span devoted sailors, skilled tradespeople, and bohemians with a thirst for the sea. “We have coffee on the docks or spontaneously meet to discuss how to improve our little harbor,” says Fay De Grefte, who sells vintage clothes and bought her boat in the Bierhaven last year.
The harbor comes together for weekly dinners in the shipyard and collectively tends the lush community garden on land nearby, which was created during the pandemic with a grant from the government. But the strongest ties come from the informal bond of people who have all chosen to live in this challenging but high-payoff circumstance. “On the pier, there’s a sense of belonging. People watch out for each other,” says Chiara Liqui Lung, who works in FinTech and lives with her partner on a converted 82-foot cargo vessel named Dieu Donné. Practical stuff: “One neighbor tied down my kayak when it went adrift. Lucy gave me a mixer because she had a spare,” De Grefte adds.
They also help each other stay afloat. “When something breaks (as things do), neighbors appear in their working overalls and Crocs with tools,” says Liqui. Van der Veen regularly uses his nautical knowledge to help his neighbors restore and maintain their ships.
As alternative as this floating lifestyle might appear, daily life on The Queen Bee is often similar to an apartment on land: making dinner, washing dishes, and reading goodnight stories. As I leave, van der Veen and Gilliam are chopping vegetables for dinner with neighbors in their galley kitchen while the hatch is propped open. Thor is out paddling nearby in his dingy as the sun dips. They’ve enjoyed living in this community in central Rotterdam, but are hatching plans to move to a bigger ship moored in the countryside and attached to some land, where they can have a dog. They’ll get a Schipperke, a Belgian dog bred to live on barges (the name translates to “little captain” in Flemish). They’ll call him Loki, Thor’s brother.
