Embrace the Warmth of Community at Altaer Sauna

Photography by Wolf Matthewson

It’s a crisp thirty degrees out by the ocean. I’m standing with my mother and sister, all in our bathing suits. It’s been a tough few weeks, but we are standing here now, all together, and what’s been troubling us seems millions of miles away. I look up to the sky. The sun is trying to peek out, though silver clouds form a thick blanket that doesn’t allow for much light to shine through. The water is an ominous blue color, with choppy waves that look far from inviting, and we’re about to jump in.

Hypothermia won’t get us, not today at least. On shore, about ten meters from the water, sits a wood-burning sauna. Inside, a heavenly oasis awaits once we’ve dunked into the icy ocean. Snacking with a friend outside of the wooden structure is Kayla Sibilia, the sauna’s creator and owner.

Sibilia opened the mobile sauna, called Altaer, in 2023, but her journey and work with saunas began far before that. She experienced their benefits and learned the upkeep requirements at her family home in Vermont, where they maintained a ten-person, wood-burning Finnish sauna in their backyard. The only frequent users were family members, and Sibilia always felt drawn to it. Even when the sauna wasn’t lit, Sibilia would sneak out there to be in its sacred space.

“That’s why I named the business Altaer. To me, it’s a physical altar where you alter your biochemistry and perception of reality,” Sibilia says.

Cutting wood for the sauna and delivering it with her father helped Sibilia stay involved. Once she was old enough to partake in the sauna experience, she learned of its healing powers and benefits.

Photography by Wolf Matthewson

“When I was twelve, I was finally invited to use sauna with my aunts and mother. The tone of their voices changed in sauna. They used words and told stories I’ve never
heard before,” says Sibilia. “There was a sense of relief, youthfulness, playfulness and nostalgia. Almost like a ‘remembering’ — remembering why they loved each other so much. It was through the stories and experiences they had together that they shared in sauna that reminded them of their deep sisterhood.”

It was something she hoped to share with others, and in her adult years the pull to spread the joy of sauna became more intense. After spending time living in San Francisco, Sibilia moved back to a salt cove in her home state of Massachusetts. There, she jumped into the cold water two to three times a day, before blasting the heat in her car to mimic the effects of a sauna. After feeling guilty from wasting gasoline and emitting unnecessary toxins from the car’s heat, Sibilia brainstormed a more sustainable way to execute her daily ocean plunges.

“That’s when I thought about our family sauna in Vermont, my neighbor’s tiny home on wheels and access to open water. Voila — a mobile sauna by the sea,” says Sibilia.

Next came the build. Sibilia prioritized sourcing local materials and hiring local artists. She ended up working with Lzrbeams, Right Coast Carving, Coast Modern Construction and Lu Yoder to bring her dream project to life.

Each sauna has its own intention and name. The first sauna was named Ash. The intention behind Ash was for each guest to build a foundation based on belongings. Sibilia eventually sold Ash to a deserving sauna user. The second sauna is named Silky Sifaka. Silky’s intention is for each guest to feel connected to their gifts and feel secure enough to share their gifts with their community. The newest sauna will be called Gingko. Gingko’s intention is for guests to build social resiliency feeling regulated, held and nourished in all social dynamics.

“Saunas are living pieces of art; they are engaging sculptures with deep roots in nature,” Sibilia says. “We build these sculptures so that people can build a deeper bond with nature and themselves.”

Once Sibilia found a home for her sauna on the sands of South Shore Beach in Little Compton, she opened for business. Community interest increased shortly after. Attendees arrived in groups or solo, each excited to learn about the benefits of sauna, which include calming nervous systems, detoxification, pain relief and improved skin health, Sibilia says.

Photo courtesy of Altaer Sauna and Jessi J. Photography

“When we step into 180-degree heat and then plunge into forty- to sixty-degree water, our bodies enter what’s known as a hormetic stress response,” says Sibilia. “This is a mild, intentional stress that activates the body’s healing mechanisms.”

Standing before the frigid water — my mother on one side of me and my sister on the other — I am ready to discover the healing power of sauna. From behind, I hear Sibilia and her comrade cheering us on. Their shouts of encouragement propel me to take a deep breath, look straight ahead and charge into the ocean. One step, two steps, three steps. I hear their cheers as the wind whips through my ears.

My thoughts: ‘Why am I doing this?’ ‘I much prefer the beach in the summer’ and ‘My God, they’re still cheering for me.’ Waist deep and losing feeling from my legs down, I notice my mother and sister have already dunked. Mustering all my courage, I plug my nose and collapse into the ocean. The water is biting, despite my being under its surface for mere seconds. I break through the waterline and run back, feeling intense adrenaline pumping through my body.

My cheer squad back on shore is still shouting, their calls of support helping me put one foot in front of the other as I barrel toward the sauna. The shock of freezing temperatures means that I don’t notice — can’t feel — the huge smile spread across my face until I reach them. They’re giggling uncontrollably, as am I. My lungs hurt and my body tingles with numbness, yet I stand with them for a moment and let my giggles join theirs.

I dip my feet into a water bucket to remove the sand, urgently open the door and join my mother and sister in the sauna.

I’m hit with a wave of dry heat and the scent of lemongrass burning from the stove. The sauna has two seating levels, my sister on the top bench and my mother and I on the bottom. The stove is to my right, its flame keeping the warmth alive in the intimate space. Before me is a glass window almost the length of the entire structure. All three of us gaze at the ocean, processing that just minutes before we were in its wintry waters.

The sauna is quiet; the only sounds are our dripping bodies and the stove’s crackling. We all sigh as warmth envelopes us. We then let our eyes shut or rest on the view before us.

After ten minutes, it’s time to cold-plunge again. This time, running into the salty water is easier, our bodies looser from the heat. We sprint back to the sauna, swiftly
entering the space now that we know the routine.

Before long, Sibilia joins us, donning a bright, knowing smile as she basks in our peaceful energy.

“Would you all like some steam?” she asks.

We nod yes. A Finnish sauna isn’t considered a sauna without steam, she says, as steam represents the energy and movement within a sauna. Sibilia grabs her handcrafted ladle, scoops the water and gently pours it over the burning stones. We all inhale and absorb the steam together. I could be experiencing this with complete strangers, and it would still feel lovely. I look around and take in the beauty of the comfortable silence. I tell Sibilia how special it is that she created a space like this for people to come and connect. I then ask her if building community through the sauna was intentional. She says it was.

Photo courtesy of Altaer Sauna and Jessi J. Photography

“I lost my first non-family and non-college friend in SF. When he was in the hospital, he said to me, ‘Kayla, I’m scared. I feel so alone.’ Those words will never leave me,” says Sibilia. “Loneliness is such a threat to humanity, to our species. I promised myself and his soul that I’d try harder, that I’d do more. That promise is part of what’s driving me to nourish Altaer. It’s my way of combating loneliness, building social resiliency, so that people aren’t left to feel alone.”

Her words cause my throat to catch, because I understand them and the threat of loneliness far too well. Just three weeks before, I almost lost my sister to a mental health situation. The need for community is something I understand more now in a way I never have before. I look over to my sister, sitting in the sauna, knowing how needed this day is for her. I look to my mother, her eyes closed from bathing in the first sense of peace she’s felt since that night weeks ago.

I look to Sibilia. She’s wearing a giant winter coat and hat. A sheer layer of sweat forms on her face. It doesn’t seem to bother her. I don’t just see her, and I don’t just see her vision: I believe it. What Sibilia has created isn’t just an escape from the moments in life that make us struggle; she’s created a space that allows us to swallow and process the ugliness of life that much easier. Loneliness does kill. It almost killed my sister, and it will no doubt affect others.

It’s time for us to make room for the next family to have their own Altaer experience. When we first arrived, Sibilia gave us a walk-through of the process, mentioning how the Finnish end their sauna sessions by cold-plunging one last time without retreating to the sauna. When she originally told us this, it sounded crazy. But stepping out of the sauna into the cold, I ask my mother and sister if they want to do one final dip. They agree. Just like we’d done the two times before, we run into the ocean, knowing we’d have to brave the cold without the heat of the sauna to rely on afterwards. One last time, we walk out of the ocean hand in hand, all gasping and smiling from our final dip. For some reason, we aren’t as cold this time around. Sibilia runs up to us and wraps us all in a hug before pulling away and pointing up.

“Look,” she says. “You all brought the sun.”

We look to the sky to see blue patches pushing against the gray, allowing the sun to bathe us in its warm glow.

“Thank you,” I say to the sky before locking eyes with Sibilia.

“Thank you.”

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Stay Sweaty

Unable to get to Little Compton? Check out some other spots around the state that will soothe your soul.

NORTH

The Sauna at Little Engine

This urban sauna is part of Little Engine Gym in Providence. Complete with a fully equipped sauna and a seasonal cold plunge station, The Sauna at Little Engine welcomes gymgoers to soothe their body after workouts. Nonmembers can take part in the sauna experience with separate sauna memberships. littleengineri.com/sauna

EAST

Small Wave Sauna

Located at Second Beach (Sachuest Beach) in Middletown at Surfer’s End, Small Wave Sauna offers an ocean cold plunge and sauna experience. Open 8 a.m.–dark most weekends, the sauna welcomes individuals for private sessions and groups for social gatherings. Each session is sixty minutes and there is ample parking in the Surfer’s End lot. smallwavesauna.com

SOUTH

The Lion Zen

Tattoo artist Tara D’Agostino of Iron Lion Tattoo recently opened the wellness spa The Lion Zen in Warwick. The spa offers infrared sauna treatments, salt cave halo therapy, cold plunges, sound baths and more. thelionzen.com