Rental Woes
Lessons Learned from Navigating Thunder Bay’s Wild Rental Market
Editorial by Chloë Grande
It’s been just over a year since I uprooted my life in Niagara and moved to Thunder Bay. I’ve loved being closer to nature, meeting new people, and stepping outside my comfort zone. What could I do without? The excruciating apartment-hunting crusade.
I was warned that Thunder Bay could be cliquey. I was warned about the neverending winters. But no one warned me about the housing crisis.
My partner and I started searching a few months in advance, which turned out to be too early. Even so, we quickly learned just how competitive the rental market was. Our responses to ads often went unanswered, even when we replied the day they were posted. One landlord told us he had received more than 600 inquiries for his basement unit. Whenever a landlord did reply, we jumped at the chance to see the place, even if it didn’t meet all our criteria. We told ourselves we were simply being flexible and open-minded.
The first place we viewed fell far short of expectations. It was cramped, unkept, and featured a bizarre layout. The second seemed more promising. It was clean and updated, with modern appliances. This could be it! Then, as the tour wrapped up, the current tenants—a young couple around our age—pulled my partner aside. “You seem nice, and we wanted to let you know why we’re leaving,” they said. The apartment next door, they explained, was the site of frequent illegal activity, including one incident involving a SWAT team. Yikes.
Eventually, we found what seemed like a gem: a spacious main-floor unit with backyard access and on-site laundry. The landlord even sent us a detailed video tour. We saw no red flags, and a quick Google search showed the landlord was a well-reviewed real estate agent. But when we requested a viewing, we heard nothing. We followed up. Still nothing. We’d been ghosted.
Finding a suitable rental in Thunder Bay felt like swimming Lake Superior without a life jacket: possible, perhaps, but unpredictable and treacherous. You never knew when the next wave would knock you down or when you’d get too tired to keep treading water.
When I spoke to others, most echoed our experiences. I heard stories about tenants not receiving keys on move-in day, landlords requesting extensive background checks and four references, and rental scams asking for upfront payments just to arrange viewings. Others pointed to rising prices. Rentals seem to be approaching southern Ontario prices, without the perks of living in a major city.
Applicants have had to get creative: posting on Facebook, asking friends for leads, living in student residences or finding places through work colleagues. For us, it came down to creating a “rental resume.” We used Canva to showcase our pertinent information in an eye-catching format, complete with an adorable picture of our cats. Somehow, it worked. We’re lucky to now live on a tree-lined street near a beautiful park and several cafés. Our cats love the large windows and high ceilings. And for the first time in years, I’m living above-ground.
I don’t have a proposed solution, but I do know this is part of a larger societal issue: the cost-of-living crisis and its impact on housing affordability. I know how incredibly stressful it is to uproot your life and move to any new community, let alone one experiencing a housing crisis. My advice to anyone new to Thunder Bay is simple: be patient, get creative, and remember—it’s not personal. It’s just the reality of apartment hunting.
