So, what do you love about being a superyacht captain?
That’s pretty simple. I like the autonomy. I’ve been with the same owners for 34 years. In the beginning I had to prove myself, of course, but now I’ve got a fair amount of freedom to run things the way I think best. I don’t do well being micromanaged, and luckily, that’s not the case here. It works for me—and for them. They’re busy people, and they don’t need to worry about every little thing.
Amazing. OK, how have you seen the superyacht industry change over the past five years, especially post-COVID?
That’s a tough one. It just feels a little different. Some vendors are sharper than ever, while others seem more lackadaisical—like you might not get billed for months. It’s inconsistent. When COVID hit, I wasn’t surprised at all, and we reacted immediately. We stocked up on oxygen makers, PPE, masks, converted all our scuba tanks to Nitrox 40, and made sure we were prepared if things got worse. We kept operating the entire time without missing a beat, and nobody on board got sick that first year. The crew handled it really well. Instead of locking themselves away or drinking, everyone became more active—more kayaking, biking, and exercise. That focus on health has carried forward to today.
What do you see as the big challenges the industry needs to solve in the next 10 years?
Finding and keeping good crew. You need people who want to stick around, learn, and grow. That’s hard in any industry, but especially here. Then there’s the shortage of skilled technicians and craftsmen to service these increasingly complex boats. And as yachts keep getting bigger, where are we even going to put them? Not many docks can handle a 400-footer. There’s also the long-term question: what happens when these yachts are 50 years old? Do we scrap them? Rebuild them? That “cradle to grave” ownership problem is coming.
What trends in design or technology have made the biggest impact day-to-day in recent years?
Easy one—Starlink. Having high-speed internet everywhere has been a game changer. We used to juggle fleet broadband, VSAT, Iridium, and cell service. Now we’ve got 167 devices talking to each other on board, and the bandwidth keeps up. We still keep backups, of course. But Starlink makes a huge difference—for work, entertainment, and crew morale. On the flip side, phones have made people less social. Everyone’s staring at screens instead of talking. There’s too much junk information out there, and separating the wheat from the chaff is harder than ever.
What’s the most challenging part of your job? Has that changed recently?
HR. Always has been, always will be. Managing people—crew, owners, communication—that’s the toughest part. Vendors and suppliers are generally fantastic. But it always comes back to people.
How do crew enter the industry today compared to the past? Any trends in skills or mindset?
Honestly, a lot of new crew come in with very few skills—just a pulse, really. But if they’ve got the right attitude, we can teach them. That matters more than anything. Back in the day, people arrived with real skills: woodworking, welding, hospitality, wine knowledge. That’s less common now. Still, if someone shows up eager and committed, we can work with that. When I started, I wanted to learn everything—fix everything. It wasn’t about money. These days, I don’t always see that same drive. Some people call it entitlement, but I don’t like painting with that broad brush. What matters is fostering an environment where learning and growth are encouraged.
how do you retain good crew?
We invest in them. Training, cross-training, good pay, more time off, travel allowances. Our average retention is six and a half years, which is strong for this industry. We promote from within whenever possible. If someone gets a certification, we bump their pay and give them more responsibility. And we keep things feeling like a family. We eat together, do things together, and even with guests on board, the crew are involved. That sense of belonging makes a huge difference.
How do you handle crew relationships and morale—especially when conflicts come up?
Honestly, we don’t have much drama. It’s very self-policing. If someone slips up, the others jump on them right away—“knock it off, that’s not how we do things here.” Problems are corrected quickly and in a friendly way. No drama, no punishments. Just accountability and mutual respect.
What about mental health and burnout?
We’ve had a few meltdowns over the years, but not many. You’ve got to pay attention. If someone needs a break, give them a day off or some time to recharge. That said, younger crew tend to burn out faster. Sometimes they don’t have the stamina. I remind them—this is the peak of the maritime world. It’s not desperate work. You’ve got your own bed, the roof doesn’t leak, nobody’s shooting at you. It’s a privilege, not a punishment. Still, you’ve got to watch people and make sure they’re doing okay.
How do you handle unusual guest requests?
“No” isn’t in our vocabulary. As long as it’s legal and safe, we’ll make it happen. Preparation is key—having Plans A through E ready to go. We’re not afraid to spend money upfront to have options in place. Guests and owners appreciate that reliability. Most of our people want active, healthy, cultural experiences—hikes, kayaking, diving. That makes our job easier, because those are the things we love too.
Do you worry about regulations piling up?
Sure. I got into boats to avoid rules, but they’re everywhere now. Luckily, I’ve got great officers who stay on top of it. Environmentally, we’ve run biodiesel for years—about 85% cleaner, with only a small power loss. We’ve cut out almost all single-use plastics. We recycle, we do science projects, and we keep the crew thinking environmentally. We’ll never be “green,” but we can do our part.
If you had a magic wand, what’s one thing you’d change about the modern industry?
I wish younger crew had more appreciation for what it took to get here. The centuries of explorers who came before, the evolution of navigation from sextants to GPS. We’re at the pinnacle of the maritime world, but many arrive without any foundation beneath them. If everyone had that perspective—and a real passion for the sea—they’d leave their egos at the gangway and fall in love with this life for what it truly is.
Do you think the environmental regulations that are here and coming are going to affect your team significantly?
A little. Global issues will have a bigger impact over time. You can’t have AI without more energy—and everyone loves AI until they realize it might just turn off our lights so it can run. One day, we could end up as the robots’ pets. But seriously, we’ve got to solve the energy problem. I’m a big believer in enhanced geothermal—drilling deeper to tap the Earth’s mantle. Once the well is in place, it’s zero emissions, unlimited energy. Put the wells where power plants already exist—use the turbines, the infrastructure that’s already there. We’ve got 30 million years of heat under our feet.
Of course, you’ll get resistance from big energy companies and governments. But it’s the way forward. Nuclear could play a role too—Fedship even joined an international nuclear group recently. Who knows, maybe private yachts will one day run on fusion or fission. Or we could just row, like the old days!
Regulations—are they consistent across countries and ports?
No, they’re not. Every place has different rules. What we are seeing more of are zero-discharge zones, which I think is a good thing. The key is building a conservation mindset among crew and owners. Regulations push that a bit, but real change is cultural. At the end of the day, it often comes down to the bottom line. People think they’re being “eco-friendly,” but really it’s about cost. If energy prices go up, people conserve.
What changes could make superyachts more sustainable?
Wider availability of biofuel would help. In Washington and California, we bought it cheaper than diesel, probably subsidized. In Europe, it was twice the price. But it’s not green if you’re clear-cutting forests or palm groves to make it. The newer generation of biofuels is better—made from crop waste, animal fats, things that would otherwise be discarded. That’s closer to Rudolf Diesel’s original vision: his engine was designed to run on vegetable oil. Our engines didn’t need modifications to run on biofuel, and even the fuel centrifuges handled it fine. If everyone made the switch, it would help. Same with cutting single-use plastics. These aren’t yacht-only issues—it’s everyone’s problem.
Has technology integration changed your role as a captain?
Not much. Starlink has been the big shift—it makes connectivity seamless. Guests don’t really come aboard to watch Netflix, but the crew benefit from it. We’ve got 25,000 CDs and movies stored onboard, but nobody uses them anymore—they just stream. As for the bridge, I don’t like fully integrated systems. If one thing fails, everything fails. I prefer standalone systems with data shared across them. If lightning strikes, I’d rather still have working instruments—and a sextant as backup.
Do you worry about cybersecurity?
Not really. We’ve got firewalls, VPNs, password protocols. But there’s nothing valuable to hack here. Nobody’s getting rich stealing our Netflix login.
What about autonomous systems—could they change the role of captain in the future?
We already use dynamic positioning—push a button and the boat hovers. It’s spectacular. But full autonomy? I don’t see it soon. Superyachts are about people and service. Robots might help with tasks, but they won’t replace hospitality. That said, AI will keep creeping in, especially in navigation and safety. Still, the ocean is unpredictable—floating logs, whales, storms, lightning. A billion-dollar AI system could get knocked out in an instant. At the end of the day, this is still a dangerous environment. That human judgment, that seamanship, remains essential.
Speaking of hazards—what about “deadheads,” those massive logs?
Radar sometimes picks them up if it’s calm, but often they disappear in sea clutter. That’s why we built Archimedes ice-strengthened—with thicker plating forward. Hitting one is still dangerous, especially if it reaches the propellers. But we’ve got redundancy, including dynamic positioning to limp home if needed. Up here in British Columbia, those logs can be six feet thick and forty feet long. They’ll stop a boat dead. The waters around Campbell River and Quadra are no joke—tides running 15 knots, opposing currents. You’ve got to respect those passages.
Do you have concerns about misinformation online about superyachts?
Not really. We’ve had the occasional bad press—accusations that weren’t true—just because we’re a big, expensive-looking boat tied up somewhere. I get it. Some yachts are part of the problem. We try not to be. On the positive side, the professional forums are fantastic. Captains share knowledge, solve problems, help each other. I’m active in the Med, Caribbean, and Fedship forums. Information is power, and that sense of community—without ego—really helps the industry.
Do you think public perception of superyachts is mostly negative?
Fair? Maybe. Accurate? Probably not. Shows like Below Deck don’t help. I know people who love it, but reality TV isn’t reality. It gives a distorted view.
If you could change one thing about the modern industry with a magic wand, what would it be?
I’d give younger crew a sense of history—what it took to get here. We’re at the pinnacle of the maritime world, but many start with no base at all. I wish they appreciated the explorers before us—Cook, Vasco da Gama, the ones who sailed without GPS or even a way to measure longitude. That context builds passion and humility. I was lucky to come up the hard way, and I still love it. I still do celestial navigation, even now. It connects me—to my roots, to the ocean, to the planet. It keeps your brain sharp, and it reminds you not to take any of this for granted. That’s what I’d change: I’d want every crew member to leave their ego at the gangway and fall in love with the ocean, with learning, with the craft of seamanship itself.
That’s powerful.
Maybe. But it’s what keeps me going.