It’s been three weeks since we first stepped aboard Jonge Jan, a 1906 Dutch barge with more history than hull paint and more charm than comfort. What began as curiosity — a whisper of potential floating quietly in the canal — has become something else entirely. A labour of love, maybe. Or stubborn hope.
The early days (3 and 8 October) were chaos. Dust, tools, forgotten corners, and a floor that seemed to change shape every time we turned around. But by the 15th, she’d started to breathe again. Light began finding its way into the cabin. A sense of rhythm took hold — slow progress, small wins, and a crew learning as they went: James, Thomas, Sean, and Derry, with Mark leading from the heart.
And yet, here’s the honest part — the Jonge Jan still has nothing.
- No toilet.
- No shower.
- No electrics — meaning no lights, no cooking, and no charging the tools that keep her alive.
- No bed.
- No kitchen.
- No boat certificate.
- We don’t even know if the bow steering works.
The sump pump isn’t wired in, so it throws sparks every time we touch the battery. The hose needs replacing. The steering deck floor needs rebuilding — and lowering. And before we can even dream of sailing, we need to get her out of the water to test for leaks and paint the hull.
What we do have is a crew that turns up. A space that’s slowly waking up. And a belief that this isn’t just about restoring a boat — it’s about creating something meaningful: a floating home, workshop, and creative refuge under The Hideout Collective banner.
We need a mooring where we can drive a van right up to the boat, somewhere we can safely work and rebuild. We need funding — not just for the materials and equipment, but to keep the vision alive: turning Jonge Jan from a forgotten vessel into a living, breathing part of the King’s Cross community.
If you’d like to support or collaborate — with skills, materials, or funds — we’d love to hear from you.
Because right now, the Jonge Jan is a symbol of something rare: what happens when people believe in second chances, not just for each other, but for the things the world has left behind.