Watching the clouds pass by New Haven Harbor one evening, I held another set of clouds in my hand, printed onto a can of something citric and herbal with an ebb-and-flow of hops and fresh pine. Its fruitier side reminded me of a shandy, and it wasn’t so long before I started to feel a special kind of buzz.
That buzz was special because the thing in my hand wasn’t, as implied, a beer. It was a can of Float House, whose non-alcoholic, hemp-derived THC- and CBD-infused “brews” are formulated to taste like beer—really good beer—and deliver a high, all without invoking many of the health and wellness concerns that have lately diminished consumer demand for alcohol.
Based in Windsor, Connecticut, with roots in the New Haven area, Float House is a part of, but also apart from, a quiet explosion of hemp beverages for sale around the state and country. Most THC-infused drinks, which must, as a matter of federal policy, be non-alcoholic, come in the style of a seltzer, a soda or a cocktail. Beer, it turns out, is a harder format to approximate, which helps explain why Float House is one of just a few makers nationally who’ve dared to go for it. (Another cause for reluctance is the tangle of regulatory burdens and gaps, even thornier than the federal, state and local ones being navigated by the industry as a whole, surrounding the specific ingredients and processes needed to make THC-infused products that taste like beer.) Float House is notable as well for being a startup working out of its own dedicated facility—a rare level of commitment in a budding category whose entrants are mostly extended, turnkey, from pre-established beverage operations, including as contract brews.
The brand was publicly launched in 2025, after several years of increasingly formal development. With a decade of brewing industry experience under his belt, including at Stony Creek in Branford and Twelve Percent in North Haven, Float House CEO and Redding native Gordon Whelpley, whose duties include formulating the recipes—two of which, the THC Lite and the THC IPA, have so far been released—had been looking for a way to strike out on his own. After a few years of dead ends and pivots, Whelpley realized he needed a team, which, like Float House’s brews, would come in a four-pack. Orange native Joe Duplinsky, Float House’s chief operations and financial officer, and Jon Lafrenaye, chief science officer, joined him, with Jared Emerling, chief commercial officer, rounding out the founders in 2023. Emerling, a Milford native and former New Havener who cut his teeth at Two Roads in Stratford and Sixpoint in New York (and once upon a time brewed up stories for Daily Nutmeg), had been independently mulling a venture in the emerging THC-infused beverage space. So Float House, as it hadn’t yet been named, was a natural fit.
Today, things are moving quickly. The brand is already carried, by my count, in well over 100 stores throughout Connecticut, including Hollywood Package in New Haven, Coastal Wine in Branford and Wines and More! in Milford. Meanwhile, I’m told, major developments are imminent, including the launch of ground distribution in Rhode Island—at package stores, dispensaries and, unlike in Connecticut, where it isn’t currently legal, bars.
In addition to 6 milligrams of CBD, whose effects aren’t quite clear to me, each 12-ounce can of Float House delivers 3 milligrams of THC, a “low dose” that matches Connecticut’s maximum allowable concentration. The dosage is high enough that people who don’t often consume THC should experience noticeable psychoactive effects even from a single can, albeit not as harshly or quickly as they would if they’d inhaled it. It’s also low enough that frequent THC users can stack it to their liking, all while savoring the sensory pleasure of sipping something tasty and the social pleasure of having a can in hand. (In certain circumstances, Whelpley and Emerling point out, drinking THC isn’t just the sociable but also the socially responsible way to consume it. “When you’re at a family gathering, and there are kids, you don’t want to be smoking a joint,” Emerling explains.)
Back at the edge of the harbor, after finishing a can of the Lite, I cracked open a can of the IPA, whose stronger nose and palate marked a nice progression. It was brighter on the pine, sweeter on the lemon and a little yeastier, with an earthy, mineral, slightly sour finish. Still really clean and not much hoppier than the Lite, the IPA was easily crushable, with a trace of lime teasing out as I neared the bottom. It paired great with the Deep River potato chips I’d brought, a classic combo of fat, crunch and salt cut with crisp beery tang.
Meanwhile, two brews and 45 minutes in, I noticed that Float House was fulfilling the promise rounding the rim of the can: “Day-Night / Hits-Right.” I felt invisible pillows resting gently above and below my frontal lobe, cushioning and weighting it and muffling that anxious inner voice that sometimes prevents me from relaxing. I started smiling more easily. I got a little giggly. I booped my designated driver, who was fortunately my girlfriend, on the forehead, and I even said the word, “boop.” In noticing all of this, the little voice threw off its cover and told me to fight the feeling. I tried to do that for a minute, before the little voice relaxed, too.
Nature soon went in a different direction. Dark clouds covered the sun. The temperature dropped. Sheets of rain off to the west were shafts of dark light, translucent tendrils of a giant jellyfish.
My mind stayed easy, albeit prone to a dazed and detached sort of hyperfocus. The high then began to crest in waves, the strongest of which came after we’d arrived back home, about an hour after I’d first started to notice a change. And yet, after another 15 minutes, the high had totally passed, and I was floating in a different way, while seriously considering whether this isn’t the future of casual drinking.
Written by Dan Mims. Images provided courtesy of Float House. Image 2 features, from left, Float House founders Jon Lafrenaye, Gordon Whelpley, Jared Emerling and Joe Duplinsky.
