Every January, like migrating salmon or people who line up for new iPhones, I make my annual pilgrimage to the Toronto Boat Show. And as always, I brought my brother‑in‑law — a man who does not boat, does not want to boat, but will happily walk 12,000 steps indoors and attend seminars like he’s earning continuing education credits in “Marine Curiosity Studies.”
This year’s show?
A little different.
A little wild.
A little… luxury‑tax‑induced chaos.
Day 1: The “Scouting Report” (AKA: What’s New, What’s Ridiculous, What’s Canadian)
If you wanted to buy a luxury boat this year, congratulations — this was your show.
Up to 261 boats sold, and not a single one under the “my mortgage is crying” price bracket.
Why the frenzy?
Because the government is rolling out a luxury tax, and nothing motivates Canadians like the phrase:
So people bought.
And bought.
And bought.
Next year, manufacturers will probably bring nothing but $250,001 boats, and then act surprised when nobody buys them. The golden rule seems clear:
But I digress.
Fishing Boats: The Lund Rollercoaster
Lund was offering $15,000 discounts on fishing boats that used to cost $65,000 and now cost $125,000.
I love Lund.
But come on.
Who is paying six figures for a fishing boat?
There must be someone out there with a very understanding spouse and a very forgiving bank.
Canadian Boats: Built Like Hockey Players
Ranger was sold out.
Canadian manufacturers were flexing.
If you want a boat that lasts forever, buy Canadian — we build boats the way we build hockey players:
• tough
• reliable
• and able to survive a hit from a submerged log without complaining
My Quest: The Fold‑Down Hardtop of Dreams
I wasn’t there for a new boat.
I was on a mission:
Find a hardtop that folds down for trailering or squeezing through the Erie or Lachine Canal.
Not a replacement.
Not a fancy upgrade.
Just something that wouldn’t cost more than the boat itself.
Did I find it?
Not exactly.
But I did find:
• a seminar from Steven Bull on the Welland Canal
• the revelation that for $200 the canal staff will handle the ropes
• and the installer from Sideshift (Patrick) who actually knew what he was talking about
My boat even made cameo appearances around the show — posters, swim platforms, you name it.
It was like being mildly famous, but only to people who know what a stern drive is.
By the end of Day 1, I had my 12,000 steps and a head full of ideas.
Day 2: The Wife Arrives (Brace Yourself)
I thought bringing my wife would be fun.
Was I mentally stable when I made that decision?
Debatable.
She humoured me through the boats:
• pontoons in
• cuddies out
• cheap boats out
• expensive boats in
But then she saw the marketplace.
I have never seen a woman move that fast without a sale sign at Winners.
Suddenly we were buying:
• white deck flip‑flops (Montreal chic, apparently)
• a “Welcome Aboard” mat
• new fenders from a Canadian company that actually priced things sanely
• woven bags to store the fenders (because apparently my storage methods were “embarrassing”)
This was all her.
I would never have bought any of it.
But she said I “needed to do better,” and honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
My Big Purchase: A French Electric Toilet
Yes, I bought a toilet.
An electric water toilet with a macerator, no less.
From France.
Why?
Because it was half the price of the American ones and twice as fancy.
The best part?
The vendor didn’t have any in stock, so he drove back the next day to bring me one personally.
He carried it to my car.
I didn’t lift a finger.
That’s customer service.
The Ukrainian Dinghy That Tempted Me
There was a Ukrainian inflatable dinghy with an electric motor that kept calling my name.
Perfect for camping.
Perfect for exploring.
Perfect for pretending I’m in a Bond movie but with more sunscreen and fewer explosions.
I’m still thinking about it.
The Only Thing Missing
The only thing the show didn’t have?
My AI — BoatIQ.
Next year, maybe it’ll be the star attraction.
Or at least the thing that tells me whether buying a French toilet was a stroke of genius or a future plumbing adventure.
One reply on “Toronto Boat Show 2026: Steps, Seminars, Sticker Shock & a French Toilet”
Ok it is wifey time to leave a comment. Yes I went for day 2 of my husband’s boating excitement. This is how it goes: first he talks about the boat show for weeks (I look enthused) he goes with my brother (I say have a great time and stay there all day) he come home with a bag of brochures and 100 stories (I have a lost look like Gilligan, which my husband mistakes as interest and keeps talking). Next day my turn to go, my mission get new bumpers, ours look old and dingy. My husband’s mission: get a toilet and the tech talk begins in the car (I am no techie on/off to fix problem or reboot). We walk, we drink/eat, he talks nonstop with a twinkle in his eye trying to teach me something (I walk around making mental notes of what we need to make boat look better-simple mission). Five hours later he buys his toilet (fireworks go off in my head, now it’s my time to shop – I’m off like a racehorse – beautiful white flip flops for guests, couple of strong canvas bags for bumpers, nice navy blue bumpers and the chance de resistance a navy blue welcome mat with a golden trim – my mission accomplished). Home is quiet again as husband is busy downstairs in his office like a mad scientist putting his new knowledge to some sort of technical language for real boaters to enjoy.