Cruising Budget: Our costs living aboard
- Jaclyn Jeffrey
- Jul 8
- 5 min read
Updated: Jul 17
You’ve probably heard the phrase:
“Sailing: the most expensive way to get somewhere slowly”
“Sailing— the most expensive way to get somewhere slowly.”
It’s funny because it’s true.
When we first talked about buying a sailboat and traveling full-time, people often assumed it would be a cheap way to live. And, honestly, so did we. But the real answer to “Is it cheaper to live on a boat?” is: it depends.
Let me explain.
Budget Philosophy
Before boat life, we didn’t give budgeting much thought. We had good jobs, paid our bills on time, and didn’t worry much about spending.
But when we decided to go sailing, that changed. We began watching our money more closely, tracking expenses, and saving aggressively. We didn’t set a hard budget, but we started making more intentional choices—cutting back on “nice to haves” in favour of saving for sailing.
Now, two years into full-time cruising, we still don’t have a strict monthly budget. We know what we spend on average and aim to stay within that. We don’t skimp on food, but we’re selective about where our money goes. We plan for occasional travel off the boat and set aside funds for refits and those pesky repairs.
Boat Costs
When we bought Raicilla, our 1979 Fast Passage 39, the big-ticket items—rigging, engine, electrical, plumbing—had already been upgraded. We knew we’d need new sails and an autopilot, but it didn’t stop there.
Once cruising full-time, we quickly learned: a boat always needs more.
We do 95% of the work ourselves, which saves a ton. Early on, we hired a rigger and got a $6,000 bill. That was enough motivation to learn fast. Still, we’ve brought in professionals when needed—like in Mexico, where a welder and machinist built a new solar arch and replacement parts.

We don’t regret investing in:
Sails – Our old ones were stretched and sluggish. The new set gives us better speed and comfort.
Autopilot – We went a bit overbuilt and have zero regrets when it steers flawlessly in sporty seas.
Solar – We originally underestimated our energy needs. A professionally built arch and larger panels were game-changers.
One expense we do regret? Bottom paint. The cheaper paint we used first actually held up well. The second time, we went for a pricey, top-of-the-line product—and it hasn’t performed any better. We’ll go budget next time.
Aside from routine maintenance (filters, oil, parts), electronics have been our most annoying and expensive failures—like our depth sounder (twice!) and a failed masthead windex. Essential gear in our opinion, but pricey replacements.
Marina and Anchorage Fees
We mostly anchor to save money (and it’s just nicer), but occasionally spring for a mooring or marina for convenience—or necessity.
When we lived aboard full-time in Vancouver, we had a slip that cost around $1,000–$1,200/month. It made sense then—we were working full-time and needed the stability and ease that dock life provides.
Since leaving Canada, we’ve spent fewer than 24 nights in a marina or on a mooring. The most expensive stay? Two nights in downtown Vancouver.
Surprisingly, marina prices in Mexico are only slightly cheaper than in the U.S. or Canada. And in some cases, the prices are the same!
In El Salvador, we chose a $170/month mooring over anchoring for free—mainly for comfort and convenience. In places with strong currents (like Newport, Oregon), anchoring can mean a noisy chain rubbing against the hull when the wind is against the current.
Haul-outs are another expense to consider. We did one in BC (1 month) and another in Mexico (4 months). Not surprisingly, both cost roughly the same, despite the longer stay down south.
Fuel and Transportation
Yes, even sailboats use fuel.
We left thinking we’d barely touch the engine. But wind doesn’t always cooperate with tidal passes or pre-sunset anchoring. We sail whenever possible—but we also motor when we have to.
Diesel costs have averaged about $1.50/litre, though El Salvador is proving to be cheaper. Our fuel capacity (tanks + jerry cans) is about 250L, and we fill everything up around four times a year if we’re moving a lot.
We use gas for the dinghy and generator. Depending where we are we tend to paddleboard instead of motoring to shore. We run the generator occasionally—mostly when it’s been couldy for a couple of days.
On land, we stick to public transit and walking. Flights home are booked with air miles when possible. Sometimes we split rental cars with friends.

Provisioning and Groceries
Grocery shopping looks nothing like it did back in the city. It often takes 2–3 stops to stock up: roadside trucks, tiendas, open markets, and the occasional full-sized store.
We spend $200–$350/month on groceries, eating what locals eat as much as possible. But when we find a treat, like Kewpie mayo, we stock up.
Dining and Entertainment
This varies depending on where we are and who we’re with.
In cities, we eat out more. With friends, there’s usually a beach bar involved. Our first year, we splurged way too often—we treated every outing like a vacation. Now, we’re more mindful. In El Salvador, $1 beers make socializing affordable, especially when we opt for beach bonfires over bar tabs.
We don’t often book tours, but we do when something feels worth the price. Our paddleboards, surfboards, kayaks and snorkel gear give us plenty of “free fun.”
On average, we spend about $200/month on dining, excursions, and socializing.
Communications
We rely on:
Starlink (upgraded plan) for offshore and remote areas
Local SIM cards (about $10/month) for everyday connectivity
Iridium Go (unactivated backup)
is pricey offshore, so we use it sparingly. SIM cards, on the other hand, are affordable and surprisingly reliable in many countries.
Insurance
We carry boat insurance ($1,800–$2,800/year), depending on the region.
We don’t carry personal health insurance. So far, care in Mexico and El Salvador has been affordable—and even free in some cases.
Unexpected Costs
Boat parts top this list.
We knew things would break. We didn’t expect the sheer volume—or cost. From depth sounders to a new prop shaft, we’ve had our share of surprises.
Also unexpected? How quickly food and dining out costs add up—even in places that are “cheap.” Yes, it’s more affordable than Canada—but not as cheap as we were led to believe. If we could go back, we’d budget more for everyday living in Mexico and Central America.
How We Keep Costs Down
Here’s what works for us:
Avoiding big-city anchorages helps limit temptation (and expense).
Cooking on board saves more than we realized.
Investing in toys (like paddleboards) gives us free entertainment.
Buying quality boat parts means fewer replacements later.
One big-ticket splurge? Our Gori folding propellor. It reduces drag while sailing and increases efficiency when motoring. A solid investment for speed and fuel savings.
Final Thoughts
Cruising can be affordable—but it’s not inherently cheap. Like anything, your experience will depend on your choices, priorities, and tolerance for discomfort.
We’ve learned to live more intentionally and spend where it counts. We’ve also learned that things will break, plans will change, and you’ll always spend a bit more than you think. But if you’re careful and adaptable, it’s absolutely doable—and worth it.
Whether you’re dreaming about casting off or knee-deep in refit mode, we hope our real-world numbers help paint a clearer picture of what’s ahead.


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