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Ethnography Project: Boat community on Regent's Canal
and the "place" of their heritage in relation to King's Cross development site
Introduction
In mid-April 2016, I embarked on another walk to the Regent's Canal with a camera phone, a sketchbook,
a pen and ethics forms (see Appendix). This time, unlike other weekly walks-of-escape from the hustle
and bustle of Bloomsbury, I was hoping to conduct an ethnographic research on the boat community.
The initial appeal of the boat community, upon reflection, was perhaps the familiar sight of people living
and working on the waters. These scenarios are endearing ones that remind me of trips to Scotland,
Holland, and east China. Yet, I remained determined to confine the research in the King's Cross area
due to its proximity and the limited time available for this ethnographic assignment. The initial question
of "where is the boat community" is still at large. On the one hand, the boat community moors along
the Regent's Canal, a section of the Grand Union Canal that connects the Thames with London, the
Midlands, and North England. Such an understanding of the geography of the canal suggests the boat
community's conception of "where they are" is a fluid and continuous one that depends on their "sense[s]
of place[s]" in relation to the canal (Schofield & Szymanski 2011). On the other hand, the boat
community also temporarily moors in King's Cross, an area defined by its "site specific development"
and which aspires to be known for its iconic urban designs (Radcliffe 2006: 26). Within the development
narrative, the canal generally serves to add a dynamic dimension to the modern architectural complexes
which would increase the marketing value of the site. Therefore, from the outset, I was expecting

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tensions on two levels: firstly, between the physiognomy of Regent's Canal and King's Cross
development site; and secondly, between the boaters' lifestyle and the King's Cross development scheme.
As these tensions became prominent in the research process, the boaters nevertheless presented
ambivalent attitudes towards the development in King's Cross due to varied socio-economic interests
and life experiences. In fact, the "tensions" which I anticipated in the research design point to the more
serious issue of the loss of a boating "lifestyle": in other words, the loss of the boaters' "intangible
heritage". Thus, by illustrating the problematic spatial co-existence between the Regent's Canal boaters
and the King's Cross development site, I hope this ethnographic research would constitute an image of
alternative dwelling that is increasingly under threat from the rapid urban expansion in London.
Methodology
With the boat community as the targeted subjects of this research, and regarding myself as a first-time
ethnographer, I find Brewer's "ethnographic imagination" methodology a befitting and consoling one.
As the boat community is constituted of "ordinary people" living their every-day lives, "ethnographic
imagination" recognizes their day-to-day activities could have profound implications on "broader social
processes" (McIvor 2015; Brewer 2000: 53). This extrapolation of social relations based on mundane
acts performed by the boaters would be the methodological foundation upon which we understand their
lifestyle(s) as intangible heritage. Moreover, "ethnographic imagination" allows the ethnographer to use
the subjects' - as well as her own – positionalities to narrate and reflect on the fieldwork process (Brewer
2000: 53). The complex positionalities which the boaters and I occupy have been both limiting and
productive when it comes to requiring access and collecting data. Notably, my positionality as a young,

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female, Chinese heritage student – which could be summed up as "tourist" for the sake of convenience
here – might have informed the group of subjects that accepted (and rejected) my approach and the
types of information generated from the interviews (Okely 1992: 14; MacCannell 2013). Apart from
the lack of concordance between me and the boaters on most ontological grounds (race, class origins,
age), my lack of experience with working or living on boats also characterizes me as an "outsider" to
the boat community. Thus, as some of the short interviews do not necessarily correspond with my
research intentions, I would also use mapping, drawing, photography, participant observation, and other
site visits (London Canal Museum and King's Cross visitor center) as means of collecting data. As the
diverse range of data would complement the diverse lifestyles within the boat community, the
perspective from which these data are collected is nonetheless "exoticiz[ing]" (Okely 1992: 2). This is
one of the main critiques which I would return to in the "Reflections & Conclusion" section.
King's Cross Development as "Master Narrative"
To understand the spatial imperative which problematizes the location of "where" the boat community
is, it is important to briefly consider the socio-economic agenda on which urban developments such as
King's Cross operates (Figure 1). Arguably, since the United Nations Decade for Cultural Development
(1988-1997), the phenomenon of "culturally appropriate development" has become commonplace in
expanding metropolises such as London (Radcliffe 2006: 2). Such development schemes tend to utilize
the historical and heritage values of a designated site to promote the socio-economic potentials of the
place in question. Therefore, it is crucial to critically analyze who is behind these development "master
narratives", on what grounds are positive claims being made, and for whom these plans are drafted.

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Figure 1. King's Cross Master Plan. Note the canal blue belt cutting across the centre
of the designated development site. (From King's Cross "Landscape" brochure, p.4)
With regards to King's Cross, the development project is largely supported by a "top-down" power
system. Although a private initiative, it falls under the grander umbrella scheme titled "The London
Plan" initiated by the Mayor of London. The current plan, spanning from 2011 to 2036, emphasizes
themes such as "wealth creation", "social development", and "improvement of environment" ("The
London Plan": 0.4). These goals – which focus on socio-economic development – are echoed in King's
Cross' identification as "mixed use, urban regeneration project" (ULI 2014: 1). Flagging under master
developer, Argent King's Cross Limited Partnership, the development scheme has already implemented
its "exemplary place making practice" by introducing a new postcode "N1C" to the King's Cross area
(ULI 2014: 2). This symbolic branding of the area would eventually manifest in material terms as new
office and residential buildings springing up on historical sites. Namely, King's Cross alleged origin as

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the Roman "foundation" of London and its pivotal role during the country's industrialization are
examples of the historic "riches" that render the site as a "culturally appropriate" place to be redeveloped
(King's Cross: "The Story So Far"). The excitement brought forth by the prospect of global
conglomerates (such as Google and Louis Vuitton) "moving-into-the-area" was evident as I toured with
a King’s Cross saleswoman on the site (Figure 2). The positive image is extended by the hope of increase
in employment opportunities and local revitalization. Both the site's alleged origin as the Roman
"foundation" of London and as a pivotal location of transportation during the country's industrialization
rendered King's Cross as a "culturally appropriate" place to be developed (Figure 3). Moreover, it is
believed that prostitution, crime, and "other anti-social activities" would be reduced with the
development, which would redeem King's Cross from its once unfavorable reputation (UCL 2014: 8).
What is not explicitly mentioned in either the promotional brochure nor during the site tour is the
ongoing cultural gentrification of the area which might tailor to particular social classes. As will be
discussed in detail in relation to the boat community, such gentrification will be exclusive both in terms
of affordability, and lifestyle.

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Figure 2. The alleged UK headquarters of Google and Louis Vuitton
(among other companies) under construction in King's Cross. (Author)
Figure 3. Diagram on the King's Cross Viewing Platform (south of Regent's Canal) highlighting the preservation of facades
of industrial buildings, such as the Granary Building (now Central Saint Martins Art School) and the Fish & Coal Building
(being refurbished for a new Jamie Oliver's restaurant). (Author)

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Henceforth, it is questionable whether the King's Cross development is "for the general public" as it
sets out to be (ULI 2014: 12). For our interest, such proclamation can be contested if we examine the
significance of the canal within the King's Cross development narrative, which is mainly twofold: as
"water" that adds spatial "dynamics" to the architectural complexes, and as "heritage" that would make
King's Cross a "tourist attraction" (ULI 2014: 12). The "tourist" aspect of the canal is in addition
supported by the so-called "The Blue Ribbon Network" plan, as part of "The London Plan" to
(re)establish London as a global "superpower" by reinvigorating its waterways (McIvor 2015: 58).
Where both characteristics deem the canal as pre-existing accessory in the landscape, neither
acknowledge the canal as living space. As a result, the Regent's Canal boat community, like the
industrial materiality of the canal itself, diminishes into the background of the development scheme of
King's Cross. The questions remain: "where is the canal?", "where is the boat community?"
Regent's Canal Boat Community & Its Contested Locality
The planning and construction of the Regent's Canal was after the widespread "Canal Mania" that once
defined Britain's industrialization in the eighteenth-century (Fathers 2012: 3). It was initially realized
by a commoner named Thomas Homer, whose sketches were adopted by the then "starchitect", John
Nash - a prophetic genesis story as London's urban landscape continues to be dominated by starchitect-
designs today (Fathers 2012: 8; King's Cross: "The History of the Regent's Canal"). The Regent's Canal
officially opened in 1820 and eventually became the transportation hub that connected London's trades
with the "industrial Midlands" and Liverpool (Fathers 2012: 8). It is with regards to its industrial

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function as a system of trade and transportation that the "canal" became synonymous with ideas such
as "network" and "connectivity" (McIvor 2015: 6). Nevertheless, the canal's indispensable status was
challenged with the arrival of railway technologies, epitomized by the construction of King's Cross
station (King's Cross: "The History of Regent's Canal"). Eventually, following its general disuse and
abandonment over the first half of the twentieth century, the Regent's Canal was "closed to commercial
traffic" in 1969 (Fathers 2012: 9). These episodes that generally portray the canal and the boat
community as "dead" subjects of the industrial past are also present at the London Canal Museum. In
fact, by exhibiting every-day objects such as dishes, clothes, houseboats and screening black-and-white
films of "life afloat", the image of the boat community is historicized, musealized, and romanticized
(Figure 4, 5, 6). Moreover, it distances the very existence of the boat community from other urban
dwellers in the present. As will be discussed in further detail in the following section, this absence of a
living boat community in the minds of non-boaters might have significant impact on the boaters'
ontological self-identification processes.

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Figure 4. Fashionable boater's dishes collected from across England in the London Canal Museum collection. (Author)
Figure 5. Mannequins dressed in "boaters" costumes in the London Canal Museum. (Author)

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Figure 6. Short films on the canal and boat people (from the Huntley Film Archive)
screened inside the London Canal Museum. (Author)
It is therefore against such historicizing tendencies that I turn to an anthropological approach to the
Regent's Canal boat community. First of all, it is essential for this ethnography to establish the boat
community as – according to the 2009 Faro Convention – a "heritage community" whose cultural
heritage is "specific[ally]" linked to their lifestyle(s) on the canal (Faro Convention 2009: Article 2b).
This unique lifestyle also entrusts them with the authority to inform the ethnographer (me) with
knowledge unavailable through other channels (museum, development site, etc.). Secondly, we also
need to recognize the boat community as a socially "marginalized" group, whose lifestyle differentiates
them from the majority of urban dwellers living on land (McIvor 2015: 4). Last but not least, the boat
community represents an economic "alternative" of "city-center living" (Meikle & Maynard 2014). In
order to facilitate mooring spaces for existing and incoming boaters, the Canal and River Trust – a
nationalized-turned-charity organization – introduced a fourteen-day mooring policy (Canal & River

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Trust). This meant that continuous cruisers have to move to a new mooring every fourteen days, which,
though appreciated by some boaters because they are encouraged to dwell in different landscapes, has
also proven a concern for others. We will return to these cultural, social, and economical issues and we
analyze and discuss the fieldwork in the upcoming section.
Boaters: From Tangible Heritage to Intangible Lifestyle
My account of the fieldwork starts properly when I began negotiating access to speak to boaters. This
initial stage arguably embodied the crescendo of tensions between different positionalities (that is, the
boaters' and my own). If we acknowledge that the canal is an "ordinary space" where boaters carry out
their "everyday activities", then my attempt to visit this space was to some extent a violation of their
day-to-day privacy (Yaeger 1996; Brewer 2000: 26). As such, there were two "frontiers" of negotiation:
the first is physically manifested in the towpath as semi-public space; the second exists in the forms of
community websites and forums in cyberspace (Yaeger 1996: 13). Both the success and failure of
negotiation on these frontiers could be read as insights into the reflexivity of the ethnographical process
through which participants were selected.
Down the towpath
In order to spot participants, I spent three days walking up and down the Regent's Canal towpath
between the entrance of Islington Tunnel and St Pancras Lock (Figure 7). On one of those drizzly,
gloomy days, a young Polish woman (noted U) offered me shelter in her boat. As the rain stopped,

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I returned to the towpath and walked towards King's Cross, where an elderly man from Lancaster
(noted V) caught me peeping into his roofless boat. Then, having crossed the bridge, I encountered
two young English men (noted W and X). That being a fulfilling day of fieldwork, I returned to
the towpath the day after and chanced upon my third participant who is an elderly Jamaican woman
(noted Y). Altogether, the participants I have met on the towpath are from a diverse range of
cultural and social backgrounds, a factor which might have enabled open conversations to take
place.
Figure 7. My own map used as I walked along the canal. (Author)
Off cyberspace, back to towpath
The experience of approaching the boat community in cyberspace was not as pleasant as the above.

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After a prolonged wait to be administered into the London-based boaters forums, I was accepted
into a worldwide boaters online community forum called "CanalWorld". After briefly describing
the ethnography project, a couple of users asked me to change the academic language into
something more comprehensible; which I did. Nevertheless, the sort of "Londonspeke" and
"professionalspeke" which I might have represented then became a point of mockery which
generated a thread of comments, including one saying "she learned her English from sociology
textbook". As much as this was an unpleasant experience, it reminded me to avoid bringing heritage
jargonism into the field. The local boaters community which I did succeed in establishing contact
with was the Residents of Boats Association (ROBA), and it was through this organization that I
found my final participant, a middle-age Croatian woman (noted Z) whom I eventually met in her
houseboat.
Thus, having discussed how the participants are identified and who they are, I will include selected
dialogues and observations that correspond with themes on tangible heritage, intangible heritage, and
"sense of place". These vignettes are arranged thematically and will be complemented by multisensory
accounts of the environment to hopefully capture the immaterial lifestyle of the boat community
(Schofield & Szymanski 2011: 2).
[With ethical considerations, I am inclined to disassociate boaters from their boats and mooring
locations in the following narratives. This has proven a difficult obligation, a point which I will return
to in the "Reflections & Conclusion" section.]

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The boat as tangible heritage
As previously discussed, a prominent aspect of my positionality as ethnographer and observer from
outside the boat community is akin to "tourist". This was proven by my ignorance of different types of
boats compared to the boaters themselves:
"This boat is from Norfolk...it's not a traditional narrow boat."
"This isn't a narrow boat. This is called a Joey butty...a 'butty' is a boat that used to be tied to the
narrow boat to carry cargoes, like coal..." (Figure 8)
Figure 8. Inside the "Joey butty". (Author)
Despite the fact that boats are no longer being used to transport goods and have been transformed into

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living spaces, their typologies are nonetheless inextricably linked to their industrial heritage origins.
Notably, there is also the case of "custom-built" boats apart from readymade ones:
"I designed it myself and then found a builder...fifteen years ago, August 2000. It wasn't easy to
find a builder because they wouldn't custom-build. Now I see many custom-built boats..."
The distinctiveness of individual canal boats finally dawned on me as I sat beneath the so-called
"Gasholder 8" on King's Cross development site and drew a picture of the residential boats in St Pancras
Lock (Figure 9, 10). Each boat differs in typology, dimension, color and name (Figure 11). The rich
characteristic in a row of eight boats already outshines that of the high-rise buildings where the
apartment cells are grimly uniform from floor to floor.
Figure 9. Gasholder No.8, an industrial structure which is integrated
into the King's Cross development plans. (Author)

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Figure 10. Sketch of boats on St Pancras Lock near King's Cross development site. (Author)
Figure 11. Boats in St Pancras Lock. Not the railway from St Pancras International
behind the row of boats. (Author)

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Boat names
The different names of boats was another feature that distinguished the boat community's lifestyle from
non-boaters. The names are often encoded within personal experiences and poetic symbolism. For
instance:
"It's called 'Marilynn', after his late mother..."
"[The boat] is called 'Pea-green'. It's from the first line of The Owl and the Pussycat." (Figure 12)
Figure 12. "Pea-green". (Author)
The significance of this poem by Edward Lear as a symbol of the free-flowing, nomadic lifestyle would
later become clear (to my surprise) as my other participant V casually recited the same poem in its
entirety (Appendix 4). Likewise, it is common for the name of the boat to be directly inspired from
features directly or indirectly related to the canal:

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"It's called 'Uzezena'. It means 'light', 'being on fire', 'aflame'…'uze' on its own means 'rope'."
It is implied that the "rope" here is the same one that ties the boat to its mooring, suggesting a sense of
"harbour" and "home". However, there is also the case where the boats are not named by their current
owners:
"The name is 'Alisma'. It's a type of water flower...It is unlucky to change the name of the boat...You
can change it when you take the boat out of the water...it's a superstition." (Figure 13)
Figure 13. "Alisma" mooring near the Granary Building
and ongoing construction sites in King's Cross. (Author)
This alleged ritual of renaming boats is yet another unexpected piece of information that contributes to
the understanding of the boat community and their lifestyle. This symbiotic relationship between the

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boaters and their boats demonstrates their understanding of boats as a vessel that carries its own - as
well as the boater's – cultural identities.
Art and alternative lifestyle
The idea of lifestyle on the canal as creative process is another theme that runs throughout the fieldwork
experience. Take for instance, U, whose origami works are inspired by the animals and plants inhabiting
the canal such as swans and water lilies. As U sells her origami works (along with coffee) on the canal,
Y follows a similar business pattern:
Y: "I'm a ceramic artist and I thought I might sell some pottery from my boat, but also incorporating
teas and coffees. Art is very difficult to sell."
Ironically, there was a ceramics art fair hosted by the Central Saint Martin's Art School not so far away
from where we spoke. As I looked over my shoulder to catch sight of the Granary Building (now
occupied by the art school), a loud whiz came from the other side of the canal. There it was, the
construction site of a building that would soon become the UK headquarters of Louis Vuitton. It seems
King's Cross is welcoming gentrified, luxury brands which leaves Y and her Japanese-inspired Jamaican
pottery little market potential (Figure 14). Surrounded by noises and crowds, it is tempting to make an
escape from the area:
Y: "The attraction would be to give up and not do the business at all. It's so much work and so little

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gain..."
Figure 14. Y's Japanese "raku" style pottery, in Jamaican tradition as tea container. (Author)
As Y still resides in an apartment, it is possible that doing business and cruising on a boat are rather
means of "leisure" that outweigh the need for successful marketing. This contentment with possessing
"the bare necessities" of material goods is captured in V's recital of The Owl and the Pussycat (Meikle
& Maynard 2014; The Poetry Foundation):
V: "The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea/ In a beautiful pea-green boat, They took some honey,
and plenty of money/ Wrapped up in a five pound note..."
The fire in the Norwegian stove cooker crackled (Figure 15). Highland music played on the radio. And

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V recited away. Then, satisfied with his performance, he raised his top hat and smiled. Similarly, the
material world had very little appeal for Z, who had been living on the Regent's Canal for about twenty
years:
Z: "The lifestyle has so many non-intangible elements to it...the flickering light of the canal in the
evening...It's a very natural way of living. A swan would come to my window and knock on the
door and ask for food."
Figure 15. Fire crackling in V's Norwegian stove cooker. The stainless steel pan on the stove contained homemade popcorn,
which V generously served me in a bowl as an afternoon snack. (Author)
In stark contrast to this somewhat "old-fashioned", intangible lifestyle is the middle-class structures that
continue to be built in King's Cross (Meikle & Maynard 2014):

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Z: "King's Cross...everything is modern...everything is square glass and metal...totally inhuman
environment which seems to be fun, but it's not real."
The place of the boat community and Regent's Canal
As endearing as my general experience with the boat community has been, it is unfortunate, however,
that certain public groups do not share such positive impressions. There are forces of marginalization
that keep their community space a realm of contestation, which are represented by public policy as well
as acts of vandalism. First of all, as public campaigns and government policies push for the increased
"accessibility" and "security" of the canal, non-boaters also want their voices to be heard. Such incidents
might prove baffling for the boaters (AINA):
U: "You see that 'NO MOORING' sign on the towpath over there? It is there because of this old
lady who lives in the neighborhood," she pointed at the modern apartment buildings on a nearby
hill above the canal, "she complained to the local council saying that she didn't want boats on the
canal in front of her building. Now we can't moor over there anymore." (Figure 16)

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Figure 16. "NO MOORING" sign on the towpath close to U's boat. (Author)
At times where mooring space is already limited and the canal is overcrowding, such incidents can
sound particularly frustrating. On April 16th
, hundreds of boaters marched towards the House of
Parliament, urging more moorings to be made along the canal. According to a Canal and River Trust
staff who I met on the towpath, opting for boat life is becoming the prime solution against the "spiraling
housing prices" in London. In fact, W and X have both recently moved down to London from Yorkshire,
hoping to find job opportunities. In addition to the issue of basic living conditions, acts of vandalism
inflicted by non-boaters also marginalize the boat community:
Z: "When I started living on a boat...the kids from the estate...they were throwing stones at us...we
were painting the boat on the footpath, and people literally step into your painting tray..."
U: "Youngsters...they think it's funny to untie your boat or jump on the roof of your boat in the
middle of the night, which is not funny because I have two children."

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Arguably, negative experiences like these does help make the boaters a more cohesive community:
U: "Waterways bring people together...It's a good feeling because [boaters] recognize you (I want
to cry now)."
However, the social dynamics within the boat community itself is also changing:
Z: "Nobody spoke. I don't know people...People around me are changing...it is just temporary
satisfaction - 'Oh, I'm living on a canal!'"
There is a sense of solidarity among boaters whose lifestyle depends on the conditions of the canal. U,
Y, and Z all raise the point that the boat community "takes care" of the canal by picking up litters on the
canal surface. The lifestyle may sound romantic and bohemian, but the hardship is ever-present.
W: "I'm sorry," he quickly looked up at the eastern sky and began hasting away, "I've got to tie the
boat before the rain comes in!" (Figure 17)

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Figure 17. Dark clouds was coming and wind was rising as I was speaking to W. (Author)
Reflexity & Conclusion
The fieldwork ended as abruptly as it began. Yet, during the short period of contact with the boaters,
my own positionality had also undergone discursive transformations. Having walked into the field as a
“tourist" and "outsider", I also helped a few participants with basic chores once a comfortable stage of
communication was reached and became their friend. Towards the end of the interviews, I find it
difficult to extract myself from the position of a sympathizer. This emotional input into the boat
community's wellbeing and lifestyle might have resulted in the somewhat "activist" tone that penetrates
through this ethnographic report. Nevertheless, it is arguable whether a study of the lifestyle of a group
of ordinary people can be complete without the ethnographer immersing herself in the daily activities

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and emotions of her subjects. I suggest that the study of the Regent's Canal boat community could
benefit from the allowance of a longer time period, so that the ethnographer can gain further insight into
the boaters' behaviors and activities. Moreover, time would also enable the ethnographer to observe the
urban transformation on King's Cross development site in closer proximity. Last but not least, changing
the ethical restriction from fully anonymized to partially anonymized would allow a more transparent
narrative for the examination of the interconnections between the boaters and their boats. For now, I
hope this ethnography will serve as an example to our understanding of the relationship between
marginalized heritage groups and modern urban developments.