Living Aboard: The Original Tiny Home Lifestyle

When people hear that we live aboard our boat for extended periods of time, one of the most frequent questions we’re asked is: How do the two of you get along living in such a small space? I’m going to share a secret with you about my marriage to Dori—we actually get along better the more time we spend on our boat. The small space of our boat demands that we cooperate and communicate with each other more than when we’re living in the larger space of a house.

When we began, we didn’t fully recognize it, but long-distance cruisers like us were actually pioneers of a growing trend in unconventional housing. In recent years, there has been a movement toward living in smaller spaces. “Tiny houses” are showing up everywhere, driven by a combination of economic, environmental and personal motivations. Increasingly, people are embracing homes that prioritize quality over quantity, and efficiency over extravagance.

A book that helped create this movement was The Not So Big House, by architect Sarah Susanka. The book resonated with people seeking to downsize without compromising the essence of a home. This shift towards smaller living spaces may be a more modern phenomenon, but naval architects have been designing boat interiors like this for decades, proving that compact spaces can still provide comfort, functionality and even a sense of luxury. Or as Susanka says: “Bigger isn’t better, better is better.”

The parallels between the trends in tiny houses and naval architecture are striking. In boat design, much like in small-house design, no space is wasted. Every corner is utilized in a way that contributes to the overall function. Just like Susanka’s emphasis on tailoring rooms to their use, naval architects design cabins, galleys and other spaces with the specific needs of the occupants in mind.

Our life aboard requires a mindful approach to consumption, space management and sustainability. By default, this lifestyle forced us to reduce our possessions and learn to live with less; the result is our greater appreciation for what we do have. Surprisingly, we don’t find this minimalist lifestyle restrictive. To the contrary, it has been liberating. Much like the growing popularity of tiny homes, living on our boat encourages us to reduce clutter and focus on only what is necessary.

Life aboard also doesn’t require living in stark, bare spaces. Our boats might have compact living areas, but they are designed with rich, warm interiors and built with impeccable craftsmanship—precisely what Susanka advocates for in residential architecture. This demonstrates that small doesn’t mean cheap or uncomfortable; it means thoughtful, purposeful design that elevates the experience of living in a smaller space.

In recent years, the movement towards small-space living has expanded to include more people choosing to live aboard boats. Living on a boat combines the minimalist appeal of small-space living, with the added advantage of mobility and adventure. The ability to move our waterfront home is one of the things we treasure the most. We would have to own dozens of homes to give us the variety we get aboard our boat. We get to enjoy our floating tiny home from Nova Scotia to the Bahamas or anywhere in between. We have friends that just shipped their floating tiny home from Charleston to La Paz, on the Sea of Cortez, where they will spend two years living and cruising in its beautiful waters.

Fellow cruisers we’ve met are more likely to embrace a more flexible, less materialistic lifestyle—values that align with the broader tiny house movement. Like us, our cruising friends have learned that by living in smaller spaces, we can focus on what matters most: our relationships, our experiences and our personal well-being.

Whether on land or at sea, the movement toward smaller spaces is reshaping how we think about homes and lifestyles. We were not aboard long when we realized that a smaller space, when designed with care and purpose, provided us with not only comfort and functionality but a deeper sense of connection—to the space itself, to each other and to the things that make any living space, even a floating one, feel like home.

This article originally appeared in the January 2025 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.

View the original article to see embedded media.