Is Vancouver home to the coolest sauna experience right now?

Knives. Thousands of them, piercing every inch of my skin. I force the air from my lungs and focus on kicking my legs to stay afloat. I know this is meant to be good for me, but right now I’m struggling to see the appeal. With every kick, the number of stabs seems to lessen. Warmth spreads, breath slows. It’s a welcome relief and an opportunity to appreciate the magnitude of my surroundings.

It’s January and I’m treading water in the middle of Indian Arm, a glacial fjord a few miles north east of Vancouver. Forested cliffs rise above the ice-cold, blue-green waters; snow-capped peaks loom in the distance. The only man-made structure is the one I’ve just jumped from — a square, cedar-and-glass structure that’s part boat, part sauna and is today’s setting for a morning of contrast therapy.

Alternating between hot and cold exposure, it promises everything from increased energy and alleviated muscle soreness to reduced stress and decreased swelling. And if there’s ever been a place for such practices to blossom outdoors, it’s Vancouver. In winter, the Canadian city averages around 180mm of rainfall a month, but here, people don’t moan about the weather. Instead, they actively embrace it. Even the sauna experience is enhanced by the elements.

“Some spas pantomime this nature,” Nate Morris, the fitness entrepreneur behind Sisu Swim Sauna and today’s captain, tells me from his spot on the sauna deck. “They pump in evergreen scent and use salt tablets for the water. But here, we’re surrounded by trees and seawater. Why not make the most of it?”

Today, we’ve got lucky. It’s one of those rare winter mornings where the sun’s rays seem to hang in the air, reflecting a sparkling silver film of frost on the shoreline. After what feels like a lifetime since my battle with the tiny knives (in reality, around 90 seconds), my body has gone numb, but my mind feels invigorated. I make for the nearby ladder and head into the warm heart of the boat, where floor-to-ceiling windows frame nature’s finest artwork — unparalleled views of Indian Arm.

There are nine of us aboard today (the boat can take up to 11) and conversation flows as steam rises from our post-plunge bodies. I’ve come to realise this is typical of the way Vancouverites socialise. After-work drinks are replaced by run clubs and kayak trips; Saturday mornings spent in the mountains or the ocean.

Nate built his sauna boat after spending time in Sweden, where he experienced coastal contrast therapy. Originally intended for personal use, the sauna boat proved so popular that he began chartering it to groups. With demand continuing to grow, he’s now preparing to launch a second vessel, High Tide Sauna, set to sail from False Creek in downtown Vancouver in March 2026. And he’s not alone in spotting the opportunity: operator Hot Voyage began running floating saunas in Indian Arm in November 2025, offering trips ranging from two to six hours.

For the rest of the afternoon, we alternate between fjord and sauna, becoming increasingly comfortable with the cold. Some of the others are brave enough to launch themselves from the boat’s upper deck, taking their time in the water, while others opt to ease in inch by inch before staying submerged for only a few seconds.

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“The hot-cold cycle gives you a real rhythm,” Nate says. “You float, heat, swim, repeat. Time seems to just fly by!” And I’m inclined to agree.What’s more, being afloat seems to remove the competitive sense of endurance that often defines contrast therapy. In the ocean, there’s so much more to focus on than just the cold, from your movement in the water to the surrounding landscapes. It’s not about how long you can last, it’s about embracing the discomfort and surrendering to the experience.

Later, Nate snaps us out of a sauna stupor to point out a bald eagle soaring high above the boat. “There’s so much wildlife to see here, both on and off the water,” he states, as we watch it slowly land atop a nearby pine. “Birds, jellyfish, orcas, sea lions you name it.”

As we drift back towards the dock, we receive a fleeting visit from one of the region’s many harbour seals. He gazes at me with a calm curiosity, head bobbing just above the water that once felt so sharp and unforgiving. I catch myself considering one final plunge.