There was a time when grabbing a Big Mac meant stepping aboard what looked like an old-fashioned riverboat docked on the Mississippi.
For folks in St. Louis during the ’80s and ’90s, that wasn’t just a fantasy—it was a reality.
And thanks to a fresh wave of vintage photos making the rounds online, the world’s first floating McDonald’s is once again turning heads.
The Grand Opening That Surprised Everyone
Back on March 11, 1980, St. Louis got something no other city had: a floating McDonald’s.
It was anchored just south of the Gateway Arch and designed to look like a 19th-century paddleboat—complete with a charming deck and riverside views.
Built on a repurposed cement barge, the 702-ton restaurant could hold 134 diners inside and another 200 outside on the open-air decks.
At the time, McDonald’s execs were brimming with confidence, even predicting it would generate over $100,000 in tax revenue each year.
But not everyone was thrilled about the idea.
Locals Thought It Would Be Tacky—Until They Saw It
Many St. Louis residents were skeptical. Was a fast-food joint really the right fit for such a scenic riverfront? Some feared it would cheapen the view.
One commenter, Marilyn O’Neill, later admitted on Facebook, “I thought at first McDonald’s would make the riverfront look cheap, but it was pretty cool for a while.”
It turns out, it was more than just cool. For a couple of decades, it was a beloved landmark—equal parts tourist attraction and hometown gem.
Kids Thought They Were Eating on a Fancy Yacht
Whether you were a local or just passing through, stepping onto the McBoat felt like a special experience.
Kids in the ’80s especially saw it as something magical—like eating on a luxury cruise ship, but with fries and milkshakes.
It became a part of the city’s memory bank, one bite at a time.
Then, Without Warning, It Vanished
After 20 years of floating burgers and riverside views, the floating McDonald’s quietly shut its doors on November 6, 2000.
There was no big farewell or flashy press release.
McDonald’s simply said the structure needed “extensive renovation” and the costs didn’t make financial sense.
That was it. No one really knows what happened after that final day.
The boat disappeared, and it hasn’t been seen since.
Where the Idea First Came From
The floating McDonald’s was born from a bit of creative thinking.
In 1979, the company’s real estate manager, Samuel Haynes, explained that McDonald’s was looking to feed large crowds—and with the Arch drawing over 3 million visitors a year, the riverfront was the perfect spot.
Originally, they wanted to open under the Arch itself, but federal rules blocked that plan.
So they looked to the river—and that’s when the vision of a McBoat began to float.
The Big Plans and Bigger Dreams
They signed a 25-year lease, and the project took shape fast.
The 185-foot-long, 50-foot-high restaurant was built with flair and ambition.
A 200-person staff wore specially designed uniforms just for the floating location, and the decor featured 19th-century murals and art to match the paddleboat theme.
Even Dr. Benjamin H. Davis Sr., who owned the franchise, embraced the vibe by wearing an admiral’s outfit on board.
It Wasn’t Just a Restaurant—It Was an Experience
People didn’t just come for the burgers. They came for the novelty, the view, and the stories.
Author Cameron Collins once wrote about bringing his parents to the floating McDonald’s: his dad tried to step into the Mississippi while his mom yelled at him, and they all shared a meal under the shadow of the Arch.
Those kinds of memories are what made the McBoat unforgettable.
A Piece of Nostalgia That Still Lingers
Today, all that remains are the photographs—grainy black-and-white snapshots and vibrant color prints that capture the quirky, joyful essence of the floating restaurant.
The only thing that ties it to the modern-day McDonald’s we know is the red and yellow branding.
But for the people who remember, it’s much more than just a fast-food joint on a boat. It’s a floating time capsule.
The McBoat Is Gone, But Its Legend Still Floats
Even though it quietly vanished, the floating McDonald’s left behind a unique legacy in St. Louis history.
It may never return, but for those who remember it—or are just now discovering it through old photos—it’s proof that even the most unexpected ideas can float.
