When the ocean has no rules, a maritime lawyer can be the last line of order.
"You never know what's going to come across my desk," says maritime lawyer Michael Moore. "The ocean is still the outlaw sea. There are rules, but it's the only place where you can be out there by yourself — and things happen."
He's referring to the calls that come at midnight. A captain in a panic. A customs officer not convinced. A yacht detained, a passport flagged, a local official suddenly discovering their own authority.
"I deal with captains every day," he says. "I'm their shoreside resource. Their counsellor. Sometimes their father figure." Then he laughs — just enough to hint that every story contains a lesson.
Because even the most elegant ship can find itself in the most inelegant situation.
One morning, Moore received a call from a captain entering the United States.
The Coast Guard had boarded the vessel. They wanted him to explain a passenger onboard — a young woman.
"She had no passport," he says. "She had no identification of any kind. Just a handbag. The captain said she was 'his girlfriend.' It was, how do I put this politely… unconvincing."
The captain was arrested. The yacht seized. The "girlfriend" was removed by immigration.
"We managed to get the boat back," Moore says. "But you see what I mean — things happen. Quickly."
In Moore's world, wealth is not what makes a superyacht owner powerful.
"I represent people who don't want their name on anything," he explains. "The yacht might be flagged in one country, the company in another, with crew from everywhere. My job is to build a structure that keeps the owner shielded — and legal."
"Choosing the wrong flag can attract all the wrong questions. And the U.S. has a very long arm. They can go after anybody, anytime."
A superyacht may appear to float above borders — but in Moore's world, borders float too.
He has handled weapon cases that sound like they belong in a spy thriller — and a comedy script.
"A boat was seized because they found a gun onboard," he says. "Except it wasn't a gun — it was a flare pistol. Perfectly legal. But once authorities latch onto something, you must unwind it very carefully."
"When tension rises, the lawyer needs to be the calmest person in the room."
"Money isn't the issue," Moore says. "They want things done right."
He talks of billionaires who have already won — business, recognition, status — and now want to translate that into something lasting.
"One gentleman called me — he was 90 years old. Wanted to buy a large yacht. Not to show off. Been there, done that. He wanted to be philanthropic. To have a vessel that can help the ocean rather than just enjoy it."
Moore loves when the work isn't just defensive — it's progressive.
"That's where I see the future: protecting the ocean that gives these vessels their meaning."
"There are only 3,000 billionaires in the world," he says, "and only around 187,000 people with a net worth over $30 million. It's a small community. If you think it… a very exclusive club."
"Yachting is personal. You have to like the people you represent, and they have to trust you. When trouble happens — and it will — they need one phone number they can call, day or night."
Moore doesn't posture. He doesn't dramatise. He simply understands the laws of a realm many will never encounter — and the people who command it.
"The sea is freedom," he says. "But freedom still needs a framework."
So he builds the invisible scaffolding that lets owners chase the horizon without fear of what lies beyond it.
His closing line is delivered with a softness that only comes from experience:
"You stay calm," he says. "You keep everyone safe. And you get the boat ."
