Imagine my joy as the proud owner of a brand-new camera when I stumbled upon a small village floating on the river like a calm, reflective dream. I had been driving around some back roads near Winona when a modest sign caught my eye: Minnesota City Boat Club. I had no idea when I pulled into the gravel driveway that I was about to enter a peaceful oasis unlike any I’d ever seen.

Photo by Nicole Brenny
Right at the edge of the Mississippi River, dozens of charming, colorful structures floated atop barrels in the midday waters. Small flat-bottom boats glided along the surface; some pulling up to dock and others gliding right into the floating homes themselves. I soon learned these whimsical structures are called boathouses—exclusive, rare, and deeply cherished shelters designed to store and protect boats. (Under Minnesota law, boathouses are generally not allowed on public waters—unless they were already in place before Jan. 1, 1997.)
I later learned they are seldom available, and when they are, they are often passed on to family or close friends. While the land rent is modest, the cost of a boathouse is significant (with no one eager to share an exact number). Months after my initial visit, I sat down with the caretaker of the property at the club’s small restaurant, also called Minnesota City Boat Club. She prefers to remain unnamed but kindly delved into the history of this unique community.

Photo by Nicole Brenny
The community has been around since 1951, when a couple of men hosted hot dog and chicken cookouts along the shore. As gatherings grew, eventually permission was granted to expand, and a floating neighborhood soon took shape. The land is leased from the Army Corps of Engineers, with the community responsible for its upkeep. Regular workdays bring owners together for maintenance projects, and the caretaker noted most residents are respectful, trustworthy, and helpful toward one another. Stays are limited, with owners only allowed to stay for a night or a weekend, preserving the peaceful, communal spirit of the place. The residents come from all walks of life—folks who enjoy their time off work, weekends with family, and who have a passion for fishing.
As I wandered through the village, I noticed how people had transformed their boathouses into cozy retreats, adding seating and decor. I was invited inside one home, and the cool, dim interior offered welcome relief from the late-summer sun. Fishing poles hung from the ceilings and walls, and the gentle rocking of the floorboards over the water brought me a deep sense of peace.
Though these boathouses are private, Minnesota City Boat Club welcomes respectful visitors. You are invited to fish from the shore for free, pay a small docking fee to bring a boat, or relax at the restaurant with a pizza, beer, and snacks. A nearby playground keeps children entertained, while the river’s gentle pace offers tranquility to anyone seeking a quiet afternoon.
Even if you’ll never own a boathouse in this lifetime, you can still visit this quiet gem to soak in its peace—and witness the rare yet enduring spirit of a true river community.






