My Yachting Debut - First 30 Days

I was incredibly lucky to find a job in yachting as quickly as I did. I landed my first gig as a deckhand on a 42m yacht with six other crew members.

But despite all the research I did before committing to this industry—reading books, blogs, and watching countless videos—nothing could have prepared me for the realities of this industry. And in hindsight, I do believe these experiences are unique to this particular yacht program, I’m excited to share the wild journey of my first month in yachting!

Joining the Crew

I was hired a week before a month-long trip to the Northeast United States in late September, an unusual time for yachts to head there. By then, most boats had already returned to Florida for the Caribbean season. But our Floridian owners wanted to experience fall foliage from the comfort of their yacht.

On my first day, the crew welcomed me with open arms. Most of them were older, ranging from their 30s to 60s, except for my roommate, Brooke, who was also in her 20s. As I settled into my cabin and started getting to meet everyone, the boat’s power went out. Being a green yachtie, and not quite understanding the intricacies of life onboard yet, I didn’t think much of it. Meanwhile, the first mate and engineer spent the day in the engine room troubleshooting the issue, so I used the downtime to bond with my roommate.

Later, we learned the outage was caused by a fire in the engine room which had damaged a critical part. This meant we’d delay our departure until the new part arrived.

First Night Out

While waiting for the replacement part, we were essentially on standby, which meant we were going out. Brooke and I joined the first mate for a night on the town, being his wing-woman for middle-aged ladies to set him up with (he was newly divorced). Let’s just say it turned into a long night, and the next morning, we were all nursing hangovers.

The first mate, still groggy, began filling up the water tanks, but as one does when they’re groggy, forgot to turn them off. By the time we noticed, water had seeped into our cabin. Brooke and I had to haul our soaking mattresses to the sundeck to dry while we rested in the crew mess.

First Passage

A week later, the part arrived, and we were finally ready to leave. Unfortunately, we were expected to meet some bad weather from hurricane residue, but  since we were already a week late, we had no choice but to depart.

I was excited but nervous. I most nervous about the possibility of getting seasick. The last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in front of my new crew. To make matters worse, our stabilizers broke on the first day, leaving the boat rocking uncontrollably. We stopped briefly and got the stabilizers fixed.

Once we were underway again, we faced 10 to 12 foot swells from the hurricane residue. At this point, I was on watch duty in the bridge with Brooke and the first mate. We all sat there in silence, trying not to show each other signs of seasickness.

The swells made it difficult to contain my nausea. I stared at the horizon, took deep breaths, and repeated to myself, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” I even attempted to reach a meditative state I didn’t know I was capable of, determined not to embarrass myself by getting sick in front of them. Meanwhile, the boat was rocking so aggressively that doors swung open and objects flew around the bridge.

Luckily for me, Brooke was the first to cave. She pulled out a white handkerchief, mumbled something about heading downstairs, and never came back up. Now it was just me and the first mate, Earl.

I stayed laser-focused on holding it together, but Earl soon pulled out his white handkerchief and stumbled outside to yack off the bow. When he came back in, I could see a streak of vomit on his neck. That was my breaking point.

Struggling to keep my composure, I say “you’ve got vomit on your neck.”

He grabbed a paper towel, swiped at it, and asked, “Did I get it?”

He hadn’t. And that was it for me. I sprinted for the door, gagging the whole way. I found myself on the other side of the bow, throwing up. By then, all three of us were down for the count.

Seeing the state of his crew, the captain decided to call it a day. We made our second stop in Georgia.

Caught in a Storm

After a few calmer days at sea, we finally reached our destination: Bar Harbor, Maine. It was breathtaking; whales and the natural beauty of Acadia National Park made it worth the journey. However, a tropical storm was brewing, and our captain decided to anchor next to moored whale watching boats thinking it would be the safest option.

Just before my 2am anchor watch, I woke to the sound of shouting and banging against the hull. Brooke and I rushed outside into torrential downpour and 60 mph winds. The tender’s lines kept snapping, and repeatedly crashing into the hull as the fenders were flinging upwards from the wind.

As I was holding the flashlight to secure these lines, I flash it around the entire vicinity and see that we are moving closer to another boat. The anchor was dragging.

We abandoned the tender to focus on the more pressing issue- collision. We sprinted to the bow, shouting out distances over the VHF: “Two feet and closing!” As those words went through the radio, the captain reversed the engines just in time to avoid a collision. Drenched and shaken up, we re-anchored in a safer spot and resumed our anchor watches. Oh, and somehow the tender survived with one line. But the hull of the yacht was absolutely demolished.

Guests Arrive

The next day, we docked at the marina and prepared for 12 guests arriving for a weeklong trip. It was a blur of provisioning, cleaning, and organizing, but everything went smoothly once they boarded. By the time they left, I felt both proud of our teamwork and relieved to head south again. I was ready to escape the cold.

Tender Troubles

We stopped in Newport, Rhode Island on our way down south. Our tender, was taking on water and needed repairs at a shipyard. We waited a week for the tender to repair. On the way back from the shipyard, the engines of the tender fried due to water damage. We ended up shipping it to Florida instead of towing it.

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I can’t even count all the things that went wrong during my first month in yachting; fires, storms, broken stabilizers, and karaoke so bad we were kicked out of a bar. But despite it all, I loved every second of it. This wild, unpredictable lifestyle is exactly what I signed up for, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.