A man inherited a floating house on a
lake and thought little of it. However,
when he took one look inside, he saw
something extremely shocking and
exclaimed, “This can’t be true.” The
letter from the estate attorney arrived
on a Tuesday morning, crisp and formal,
with an address that made Mason do a
double take. Floating residence, Lake
Champlain.
Below that were coordinates and a note
in Theodore’s familiar scroll for Mason,
who always asked the best questions. The
answers are inside. P.S., don’t worry
about the house. It won’t sink.
Mason was shocked. He had always
considered his grand uncle Theodore to
be the family eccentric. The man had
spent 40 years as a marine engineer,
traveling the world’s oceans and
designing impossible structures in
impossible places. When Theodore passed
away at 92, Mason expected to inherit
perhaps a few maritime artifacts or
maybe some old photographs from his
adventures. He certainly didn’t expect
to inherit a house. More than that, what
had Theodore meant that it won’t sink.
The only course of action was to go see
for himself. Now that he had finished
his master’s degree in engineering, he
had plenty of free time. Lake Champlain
was a 3-hour drive from Mason’s
apartment in Burlington. He’d been there
as a child for family camping trips, but
it had been years since he’d visited the
remote Vermont Lake. His close friend
Riley had insisted on coming along,
partly out of curiosity about the
inheritance from his mysterious grand
uncle, and partly because she didn’t
trust Mason to navigate mountain roads
while distracted by legal documents. As
they wound through the mountain roads
that October afternoon, Mason tried to
imagine what they might find. Nothing
prepared him for reality. The lake
stretched out before them, and there,
perhaps 200 yd from the nearest shore,
stood a house in the middle of the lake.
A brick house three stories tall with
pitched roofs, multiple chimneys, and
rows of old school windows. It sat on
the water’s surface as if the lake were
solid ground, and the waves lapped
gently at its foundation.
“What the hell?” Riley breathed,
stepping out of the car slowly.
That doesn’t look safe,” Mason muttered
under his breath. Riley pulled out her
phone immediately. “I’m documenting
this. Nobody’s going to believe us.” She
snapped several photos from different
angles. “Mason, how is this even
structurally possible? What’s keeping it
from just sinking?”
Mason stood on the small dock, mouth
still a gape. Riley joined him, equally
stunned. So, the old man knew it was a
terrifying masterpiece, Mason said.
Riley elbowed him gently. More like an
engineering marvel, she corrected, her
analytical mind already working. Look at
how level it sits. There’s got to be
some kind of sophisticated buoyancy
system underneath. A modest motorboat
was tied up on the dock, so in they
climbed. The boat ride across the calm
water felt surreal. Riley kept one hand
on the boat’s edge, the other holding
her phone steady to record everything.
As they approached, they could see the
house more clearly.
It was Victorian in style, beautifully
maintained with burgundy brick. Most
remarkably, at the very top floor, a
round window sat perfectly centered in
the structure like an eye watching the
world. Above it, a single chimney, and
Mason could have sworn he saw a ghost of
smoke slither out of its orifice. At the
back of the house was a floating dock
complete with cleats. Mason tied up the
boat, and Riley stepped onto the dock
first, testing its stability. “It’s
solid,” she announced, bouncing
slightly. “Whatever engineering marvel
Theodore created here, it was built to
last.”
The back door was painted deep green
with a brass knocker shaped like an
anchor. A small placard read. Winslow
station established 1987.
Mason found the key exactly where the
attorney said it would be. Wedged under
the small window pane on the door. Riley
watched nervously as the door opened
with a satisfying click. When they
walked into the house, their sight was
consumed by pure darkness. Mason quickly
switched on the flashlight on his phone
while Riley did the same. Both searching
the walls for a light switch. They
didn’t find any. Instead, Mason located
a small iron box on the wall with a grip
lock. That looks like an old school
electrical panel, Riley observed,
peering over his shoulder. Assuming this
to be the powerhouse, Mason silently
opened it and, as expected, saw a toggle
switch. He gently flipped it and both
watched in wonder as fluorescent
lighting showered all around. The
interior took their breath away. This
wasn’t some rustic lakehouse or
improvised floating shelter. The foyer
featured rich hardwood floors and a
modest chandelier that somehow managed
to be both elegant and practical.
Everything was perfectly level,
perfectly stable. If they hadn’t just
crossed a lake to get here, they would
have sworn they were in a house built on
solid bedrock. Riley, look at this,”
Mason called. But she was already
staring at the walls. Every available
surface was covered with blueprints,
technical drawings, and photographs. Not
random maritime memorabilia, but
detailed engineering scribbles. Mason
recognized some elements from his own
background in structural engineering.
But Riley, with her marine engineering
degree, was already studying the
technical drawings with intense focus.
Mason, these aren’t just plans for a
floating house, she said, her voice
hushed with awe. These are designs for
floating cities. They walked deeper into
the house together, past a living room
with a stone fireplace, a kitchen, and
up a staircase lined with more plans.
Each level revealed new wonders, a
library filled with engineering
journals. Riley stopped frequently to
examine diagrams, occasionally whistling
under her breath at particularly
ingenious solutions. Finally, at the
very top, they reached the round room
Mason had seen from outside. The
circular chamber served as both
Theodore’s observatory and office. The
round window provided a 360° view of the
lake, rotating slowly on some kind of
mechanism. “The room was filled with
journals, all in Theodore’s handwriting,
documenting decades of research and
experimentation.
This is incredible, Riley whispered,
running her fingers along the rotating
window mechanism. The precision of this
engineering. Your grand uncle was a
genius.
Mason pulled one journal from the shelf
and opened it to a random page. The
entry was dated 15 years ago. It
detailed an experiment on some
structural resistance to storms. Mason
flipped through more pages, his
excitement growing.
Theodore hadn’t just built a floating
house. He had built a prototype for
floating communities. The journals
detailed many anchoring systems that
would have helped humans without
interfering with marine life. But it was
the final journal that made masons sink
into Theodore’s chair and whisper, “This
can’t be true.” The journal was titled
Project Archipelago: Solving the Housing
Crisis Through Oceanic Development. The
contents were extraordinary. Theodore
had spent his final 20 years developing
a comprehensive system for creating
floating residential communities, not
for luxury, but for practical,
affordable housing. Riley, are you
seeing this? Mason asked, though she was
already deep in the technical
specifications.
The engineering is brilliant, she
confirmed. He considered everything from
engineering to economics and even
sustainable development.
Page after page, Mason saw his grand
uncle lies with environmental groups,
correspond with housing authorities, and
receive preliminary approvals from
maritime organizations.
Theodore had spent his own considerable
fortune in developing and exploring
every single option. The project had
reached its peak in 1997 with permits in
place. Mason even found a somewhat
ridiculous entry about pressure from the
higherups. Theodore’s project was a big
secret. known only to those in power.
And as the year passed with no apparent
progress, pressure began to mount from
these people in power. Why? Well,
because they needed the floating
metropolis to be completed before the
year 2000. Many feared the world would
end then, but select government
officials believed they could escape it
with Theodore’s grand plan. Why 2K
panic? Riley said with a shake of her
head. Mason laughed. Alas, the year came
and went with unbothered bliss. The
pressure reduced, but not Theodore’s
desire. He continued to work overtime,
documenting and formulating plans, and
then abruptly, the entry stopped in
2015.
Mason found the answer in a separate
folder, medical records.
Theodore was diagnosed with dementia.
Rather than risk compromising the
project with his declining faculties,
he’d made the decision to step back,
hoping that someone else could carry on
the work with a sound mind. That someone
apparently was Mason.
A sealed envelope sat on the desk
addressed in Theodore’s careful
handwriting for Mason. If you’re reading
this in the round room, you understand
now.
Riley raised an eyebrow. He planned
everything. Inside was a letter along
with a comprehensive file of legal
documents. The letter began with a
direct greeting to Mason. Dear Mason, if
you’re reading this, then you’ve made it
to the heart of everything I’ve built.
This house isn’t just a place to live.
It’s proof that we can live differently,
sustainably, affordably, in harmony with
the water rather than in spite of it.
Theodore’s vision was clear to create a
new way of living that was not only
eco-friendly but also affordable. And he
had chosen Mason with his drive for
engineering to carry the torch forward.
The technical work was done. The
regulatory hurdles had been cleared. And
now all that was needed was someone with
the vision and energy to bring it to
life. Theodore had clearly just been
waiting for Mason to finish his master’s
degree. Theodore’s words stirred a mix
of emotions in Mason. skepticism perhaps
at the enormity of the task ahead, but
also a sense of possibility. The house
on the lake was the very proof needed
that the science and engineering behind
Theodore’s projects were sound. Multiple
winners had passed, and the structure
had stood strong, a testament to the
feasibility of Theodore’s vision. The
letter ended with what he believed was
the most vital instruction in the entire
experience.
There’s a laptop in the desk drawer with
video documentation of every system in
this house. Study it. Live here for a
while if you need to, but don’t let this
work die with me. How was he to carry
the project forward? How could he make
it a reality and change the way people
lived? Would the government still be
interested? How had his grand uncle kept
things under wraps until this point? The
questions were so many and the answers
were non-existent.
So Riley said, looking around the
rotating room as afternoon faded toward
evening. When do we start?
Mason sat in the rotating room as
afternoon faded toward evening, watching
the automated window slowly turned to
frame the western sky. The lake
stretched out beneath them, peaceful and
endless. In the distance, he could see
the mountains of Vermont. Riley was
right there beside him, already
cross-checking calculations with her
phone, baffled at Theodore’s genius
plans. The next morning, both Mason and
Riley woke in the house’s guest bedrooms
to the gentle sound of water lapping
against the structure. Riley was the
first to emerge, already dressed and
examining the breakfast nooks windows.
“I’ve been thinking about this all
night,” she announced when Mason
appeared. “The load calculations, the
buoyancy systems. This isn’t just
possible, Mason. With modern materials
and updated engineering software, we
could make this even better. Mason knew
that. All right. He had spent the entire
night pondering the case. Although he
never had a clear plan for his future,
working to achieve his grand uncle’s
dreams was the last thing on his to-do
list. Somehow, he felt a huge burden now
resting on his shoulders. But in that
sense of responsibility was purpose,
something he didn’t have until he and
Riley showed up at the floating house.
By noon, Mason had made his decision. He
called the main coastal commission the
next morning. The contact information
was in Theodore’s files along with a
note. The conversation was surreal.
Apparently, the commissioner had been
awaiting his call. Theodore had ensured
that no one but his grandson would
undertake the project, and the
higher-ups made his words law.
Within a month, Mason had relocated to
Maine. He rented a small apartment in
Portland. Now, instead of trying to
squeeze housing onto expensive coastal
land, they would create new land on the
water itself. Mason worked with
architects to adapt Theodore’s purely
functional designs into something more
aesthetically appealing while
maintaining all the engineering
integrity. The first prototype emerged 3
years later. It was a sleek, modern
interpretation of Theodore’s vision.
Where the original Victorian house had
been charming but dated, this new
structure was all clean lines and
sustainable materials. They integrated
solar panels seamlessly into the roof
design, and the foundation used
Theodore’s advanced anchoring system
with modern materials that were even
more environmentally friendly. The
prototype attracted significant
attention. Architecture magazines
featured it on their covers. Housing
advocates saw potential for addressing
coastal affordability crisis. Mason
found himself invited to conferences and
symposiums to explain how the floating
house worked and pitch new ideas for
grants. However, instead of
modifications being implemented to
continue this possibility, the prototype
remained as a luxury item with some
celebrities and sportsmen looking to
build one. Life had a way of changing
priorities and this project was no
longer Mason’s sole focus.
Mason met Rosalind at one of the
conferences. She was a marine biologist
studying the impact of coastal
development on lake ecosystems.
Their shared passion for sustainable
living drew them together and they
married 2 years later. When their
daughter Mabel was born, followed by son
James 2 years later, Mason’s focus
naturally shifted.
The long hours required to build a
floating metropolis were devoted to
family nights and bedtime. The team
continued their work, but progress
slowed to a crawl. Investors grew
impatient. Government interest waned as
other priorities emerged. By the time
Mabel started school, the project had
stalled. They had successfully built
three floating houses, Theodore’s
original, Mason’s modern prototype, and
one commissioned by a tech entrepreneur
who’d read about the project. However,
the grand vision of floating cities
remained just that, a vision.
Mason often felt that he’d failed to
uphold Theodore’s legacy. The folders
full of blueprints sat in his study, a
constant reminder of unfulfilled
potential. But he did find hope in the
progress he had achieved. The three
floating houses had become legendary in
architectural and engineering circles.
Students made field trips to study them,
and the detailed documentation Mason and
Theodore had created had inspired dozens
of smaller projects around the world.
Theodore’s vision was living on, and
Mason had faith that the grand
metropolis would become a reality one
day. What an interesting story. What do
you think of the concept of a floating
metropolis? Let us know in the comments
below. Thank you for watching and see
you next time.