Our family bought the marina, it was just for us—for our three boys, really. I wanted them to have something more than just routines and screens. I wanted them to grow up outside with muddy feet. We spent years working on River Landing Marina, slowly rebuilding it piece by piece. And somewhere along the way, I realized… There was something really special about our little corner of the world.
The river, the stillness, the birds, the adventure right outside your door—it’s magic here. And I couldn’t keep it all to myself.

So I took a risk. I bought one houseboat, fixed it up, and listed it on Airbnb, not knowing what would come of it. Sure, it was about creating a bit of income and finding some independence—but it turned out to be so much more than that.

People came. Not just travelers looking for a unique stay, but people going through something. Women in the middle of big life decisions. Sisters reuniting after years apart. Couples celebrating love. People grieving, healing, starting over. I even hosted someone quietly battling cancer who just needed a place to rest, away from the noise of life.
And somehow, this place gave them what they needed.

Over time, I added a second houseboat. Now I’m working on the third. And every boat I build, I build with care—making it warm, comfortable, and cozy, the way my own mom used to do.

Growing up, I had two brothers and a single mom who worked seven days a week. We moved every year, living wherever we could afford. But no matter how temporary our home was, she made sure it felt safe and full of love. That stuck with me. And it’s exactly what I try to create here on the water.
This started as a business. But now, it’s my purpose. It’s about people. It’s about offering a little peace, a little joy, a little magic—at a time when someone might need it most.
This isn’t just a place to stay. It’s an experience. It’s a hug from the river. It’s a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. And I’m just grateful I get to share it.