Living on Water: An Interview with Ever Uan Beag

Since Scotland’s lowland canals were re-opened almost 25 years ago, they have undergone a renaissance – turning from post-industrial dereliction to places of leisure, festivals, great natural beauty, and a thriving events scene. We’ve seen a steady increase in people choosing to live on the canals too, and many more people find the idea highly attractive as they search for different ways of living. But, what is it really like? 

We wanted to talk to someone who has recently made the move and find out what motivated them and some of the realities of living on water. Boat owner Ever Uan Beag kindly invited us for a chat in her boat on the Forth & Clyde Canal. 

We asked what motivated the move, and like so many big decisions in life, it turned out not to be a snap decision but the result of a process of gradual realisation for Ever about what she values and what her priorities are. 

“I had a house in Lancashire – three bedrooms with an attic and a conservatory, and a cellar, and so on. I’d gone through that whole experience of working (as a family mediator), then found myself having to commute further and further as the funding for the job changed. I would spend my time sitting in traffic from Lancaster to Greater Manchester, which is like sitting in a log jam. I could sit in traffic for three hours a day – Glasgow’s M8 is nothing compared to getting stuck on that motorway! 

"I began to realise that this wasn’t for me – and I started to really think about how busy life was and that it just wasn’t making any sense to me. My girls had gone to university and college in Glasgow, so I decided to move here and downsize, first to a small house, where I started gradually decanting stuff and decluttering. I guess I’m talking more about my attitude towards materialism here than anything else. I also wanted to live in the middle of nature, but in a way that is affordable. That’s when this boat came up for sale.” 

"Our next question was admittedly rather naïve: is this about a search for freedom? It’s easy to have in mind the media image of living in a canal boat – a life of carefree sailing and escape from the rat race. In other words, the latest lifestyle trend. Ever’s take on things was much more nuanced and put the question in its place: 

"It’s not about having ‘more freedom’. To begin with, many people may think of freedom as things like travel, holidays, beaches, having more money, the gym, lifestyle.... My idea of freedom is not that: it is about giving up all of that, and living on a boat does allow you to it. But at the same time, you have to be constantly concerned with how you are going to live. So, my water tank is off at the moment and I’m highly aware that I have five 5-litre bottles of water left. I know exactly what I can do with that amount, and I know exactly how much energy it will take to boil the water and what that means and costs."

"If you’re trying not to base life on spending money, yes, you can get freedom from the hamster wheel. But, you can't get off it entirely. There are still mooring fees, licensing fees, engine repairs, and so on...” 

And there are plenty of misconceptions too: making the commitment to live full-time on a boat is not the same as the trend to use them as a second home or something novel for the weekends. 

“I read an interview in a magazine where someone said: there are two types of boaters – those who can afford to live on a boat and those who can barely afford to live on a boat. That really got my back up – because that’s people viewing it purely from a monetary angle. They’re saying if you want to live on a boat you need it built to spec, get someone else to do the blacking, get electric engines, and fit it out like a second or a luxury home. That’s what I would describe as a lifestyle choice and needing to make things look a certain way for status. If you are someone who doesn’t need that – and I need less and less as I go on – then a boat’s a great place to be.” 

Boating skills - What do you really need to know before taking on a boat? 

“It’s not about this skill or that skill; it’s more that if you’re going to live on a boat, you have to be the sort of person who is prepared to learn lots of new skills. You can’t be bothered about getting your hands dirty. You’ve got to want to pitch in on your own life rather than expecting other people to do it. For example, if your engine breaks down, you can’t just phone a mechanic: in Scotland there aren’t that many boat mechanics handy, and they can be quite expensive. All boaters have to black the boat every few years (unless they’re made of very expensive epoxy) – an absolutely massive job, and there is one place to do that here, out at Kirkintilloch. You just have to be an adaptable person, and you can’t teach someone that.” 

“But, I do have neighbours here in the other boats, and if you need something, you can go an give them a knock [if you know them, otherwise knocking on canal boats is not polite!]. You're often doing DIY and repairs on a boat, and if you don't happen to have something, it's likely someone else will." 

From keeping stoves lit and water supplied to maintaining the boat, Ever makes it clear that this is a hands-on life and not one for the faint-hearted. Has she ever doubted her choice? 

“There was only one time when I had any doubts (and even that was not bad enough for me to want to go living back in a house!). It was when I was doing the blacking, which is when you caulk the bottom of the boat and it has to be done every 2 to 3 years. When you’re lying under a narrowboat with a high-pressure washer, getting all the stuff off the bottom of the boat, and have bits of old paint and what-not dropping all over you (and you're doing this with one hand - I’d sprained the other), and then you’ve got to repaint it in three coats of bitumen – that’s the time when you’re thinking how can I get out of doing this?! 

"I’d have to say that was a nadir, but there are many, many more things that make living on a boat worthwhile, and they tend to be the little things. So, for many weeks there was a kingfisher that just perched in the shrubs by the barge and would fish from there, and sometimes I’d see it fly down the length of the boat – a flash of blue. These are things that a lot of people don’t ever see. You get to learn about the cycle of life much more. And not long after I moved to the boat, I remember lying here and listening to the rain was tapping on the boat's roof, and it was the most peaceful thing. When the sun shines, you get a shimmering reflection on the inside of the boat, which is kind of like having your own Northern Lights.”

As related to Amy Needham and Rebecca Goldie from the Scottish Canals Communications Team. If you would like to share your story or insights about living on water, please get in touch with us at feedback@scottishcanals.co.uk