What do you love about being a superyacht Captain?
Captain Kelly J. Gordon It is. You would think that it would be the big flashy boats. You would think it would be, you know, the the amazing places that we go and and no doubt all of that. But my crew are really what make my my job what it is.
Have you seen the superyacht industry change over the last five years, sort of post-COVID bubble?
I have. One of the things I’m really passionate about is improving the welfare and mental health of crew. I’d like to think some of the progress comes from my own efforts—screaming from the rooftops, giving seminars, doing talks—about bettering the mental space for crew. I’ve been hollering about it for the last five years, and I’ve seen the industry start to listen. There’s more awareness now, more conversations, more crew speaking out. It’s not moving fast enough, but it is moving in a positive direction. From a technical side, the boats keep getting more complex every year.
Owners’ demands increase, but not always with more support. We’re exploring places like the polar regions now, and the demands on us are higher. The industry is often reactive rather than proactive, but yes—it’s definitely changing.
What do you think the big challenges are that the superyacht industry will need to solve in the next 10 years?
Taking better care of crew. The superyacht industry needs to professionalise itself more. Compared to commercial shipping or cruise ships, they’re light years ahead. For example, drugs and alcohol are strictly prohibited in commercial, but you’ve still got yachts where crew are partying alongside owners. In the next decade, we need to up the ante, professionalise, and maybe take a page or two from the commercial industry’s playbook.
What about trends in design and technology—are they affecting your day-to-day operations?
Yeah, it’s good and bad. I remember driving an old boat with hardly any technology—simple, analogue gauges in the engine room. Now everything’s complicated. It’s great when it works, but awful when it doesn’t. Some days I love the tech, some days I miss the simplicity of the old boats.
What do you think are the most challenging elements of your job? Has this changed recently?
It’s the same thing I love most about my job: crew. Driving a boat is driving a boat. The real complexity is managing people. You’ve got a tiny space filled with people from different countries, ages, backgrounds, all with different baggage, and suddenly they’re family for months on end. I dearly love my crew, and I put a lot into them, but some days I feel like I’m filming an episode of Below Deck on my own boat. People aren’t like machinery—you can’t just flip a switch. For example, today one of my young crew came back from seeing her family and was sad. We ended up having a cry together over coffee when really, I needed to be tackling my emails. But that’s part of it.
How do you see the new generation of crew compared to previous years?
They’re more focused on taking care of themselves, mentally and physically. My engineer, who’s 52, and I were talking about rotation. He’s old school and thinks not everyone should get it. Part of me used to think that too—like, I paid my dues, so others should as well. But maybe the younger generation has it right. They’re saying, “I value my time, my health, my family. I’m not going to work myself into the ground.” A young crew member told me she wouldn’t work on a boat without rotation.
At first I thought, “Really?” But then she said, “It’s not worth sacrificing my mental health.” She’s right. Maybe they’ve figured out what we should have been doing all along. They also bring new skills—like social media management—which some boats now have full-time. It’s cool to see things evolve. And yes, I catch myself sounding like my granddad sometimes, grumbling about “kids these days,” but honestly, there’s a lot to be learned from them.
How do you handle the pressure-cooker environment of crew relationships, morale, and conflicts—especially when guests are onboard?
It’s hard work. Just today, the dock master asked about my hiring process because my crew kept everything running while I was away for exams. The truth is, it’s about the tone I set. People know I don’t tolerate drugs and alcohol, so I attract a certain type of crew. Once I have them, it’s about taking care of them. Sometimes that means sitting with someone who’s upset when I’d rather be working through my to-do list. It’s about being authentic—owning my mistakes, being honest when I don’t know something, showing when I’m happy or grouchy. If you can be authentic, you’ve won.
What strategies help you retain high-quality crew?
Advocating for them. When it comes to pay raises or perks, I fight for them. I’ve always got their backs, and they know it. I treat them like humans—being kind, spending time with them, showing interest in their lives. Even small things, like having coffee together in the morning, matter. It’s not always easy to be nice when there’s pressure from owners or management, but being decent goes a long way.
Have you been part of any mentoring, or seen mentoring in the industry?
Absolutely. I was mentored hugely in my early days, and it made a massive difference. It wasn’t formal; it just happened organically. The man who mentored me said it was because of my drive and thirst for knowledge. Now, I try to do the same. It’s easier to mentor someone who’s hungry than someone just along for the ride, but mentoring doesn’t need to be a formal program. Keep your eyes open and grab those opportunities when they come.
What are your thoughts on mental health and burnout in the industry? How do you support your crew and yourself?
Honestly, I probably do a better job supporting them than myself. I speak internationally about this. We all share the same work ethic—we work long hours and feel guilty taking time off. I’ve been trying to do better the last few years. I’ve told my crew: you’re adults, you know you have time off. If you want it, ask me. I try to say yes whenever the boat can handle it. If someone needs days for moving house or to see family, I make it work. Even small things like starting a holiday weekend early can make a big difference.
Have you had to manage unexpected guest requests without compromising safety?
I’m good at saying no, and more captains need to be. Someone once told me: would you rather have a job, or a licence? That stuck with me. An owner also said, “I pay you to say no.” None of us want to say no—I always want to find a way to yes—but sometimes it’s not safe, or it’s just a bad idea. My job is to keep everyone safe, and if that means saying no, I will.
Do you notice any trends with younger owners coming into superyachting?
I haven’t had much experience with younger owners yet. My current boss is about 65, a Midwest, salt-of-the-earth guy. He’s kind, knows what he wants, and genuinely cares about our welfare. I also think you attract the kind of owners who fit the energy you put out. A rogue owner won’t want to work with me because they know I won’t tolerate certain things. What you project is what you get back.
What are your thoughts on the mounting regulatory load, and how do you manage it?
At first, I always heard older, more seasoned captains say, “Regulation is bad; we don’t want more.” But having run on AUS flag for years and having to fight for basic things with owners, then moving to a foreign flag with more regulation—even though the paperwork is laborious—I like it. On AUS flag, when you’re private, you don’t have things like minimum manning. You don’t even have to carry a life raft. It’s so deregulated that you end up fighting for crew, fighting for safety equipment—fighting for regulation.
Now that I’ve moved to a foreign flag, even though I’m going through growing pains, I like it because it keeps things professional and stops me having to fight an owner if they were a “bad” owner. He can’t say, “We’re going to run a 142-foot boat with three crew,” because I can point to minimum manning. He can’t refuse safety equipment because flag state requires it. It’s a lot of work, but it professionalises the industry and helps us.
Are recent environmental rules effective, and are they enforced consistently between ports and countries?
On this side of the world, I don’t see strong enforcement, and that’s sad. In France, for example, they’re particular about the seabed and anchoring. The Bahamas is improving—they’re putting in mooring balls so you have to pick up a ball instead of dropping anchor. I’d say your side of the world does a better job, but then you look at the lack of sea life in the Med. Enforcement could be better—there’s room to improve.
What changes would you like to see to make superyachting more sustainable?
A real rule on plastic. I just had a Spot Zero system installed because the amount of plastic water bottles we went through drove me nuts. Now we fill assigned Yetis straight from the tap. If you can get a handle on plastic in yachting, that’s huge.
How has increasing technology integration changed your role as captain?
You’ve got to keep up—there’s a lot to learn and stay on top of. When I started, the owner had ripped out all the electronics and never replaced them, so I navigated with charts. The engine room had analogue gauges right on the engines—super simple. If a gauge broke, the sending unit was right behind it. Now everything’s complicated. We went to get underway and I couldn’t get the boat to clutch in—we ended up towing to the shipyard. On older boats you could fix a simple sending unit; now you’re waiting weeks for parts to ship across the pond and coordinating three different tech support teams in different time zones. It’s lovely when it works; when it doesn’t, it’s a headache.
Is cybersecurity becoming a bigger concern onboard? How do you protect yacht and guest information?
Very big concern—and growing. My engineer is strict about who connects, how they connect, and what systems we allow. There’s a monitoring system I’d like, but he and I go back and forth because of the security risk. My boss has a whole tech team advising what apps he can use and how to connect. We’ve talked about engaging his onshore security team more now that we’ve bought a new boat and he’ll be aboard more often. I was in a class where they described an incident on a cruise ship: someone got into the ship’s systems and made it think it was going one way when it was going another. Terrifying. The team caught it because they were doing proper paper plotting. If you don’t have a land reference, you can’t tell by looking out the window—you could be headed somewhere completely different.
With that in mind, how important is it to maintain traditional navigation skills?
One hundred percent important—at least the basics. Younger mariners still need to understand paper charting. But we also have to accept change. My granddad used a slide rule; I’ve done math my whole life without one. Some legacy skills may not be essential anymore. Older mariners need to be careful not to get stuck in their ways while still ensuring we can navigate safely without screens if needed.
Will autonomous systems and remote monitoring change captaining in the future?
Yes—and I don’t think it means we lose jobs. My mindset comes from academia: when online teaching arrived, many instructors resisted. I leaned in, learned to build and teach online courses, and ended up with more work than I could handle. Same here—AI and autonomy won’t replace you if you learn to use them and adapt your role. You’ll be more valuable.
Public perception: what concerns do you have about misinformation about superyachts?
People are increasingly gullible. AI can make fake boat crash videos and folks will believe them because they saw it on social media. You still have to filter, ask if it makes sense, and fact-check. You can swing any story negative if you chop it the right way.
What about the growing number of superyacht groups and forums online? Helpful or overwhelming?
Too much. And I’ll say something that might get me tsk-tsk’d: the explosion of “women in yachting” groups concerns me. I’m a female captain—I’ve fought hard to get here and I absolutely support women. But I worry we’re creating segregation and a sour tone among some men. The truth is, men in this industry helped get me where I am—they supported and championed me. I was invited to a women-in-yachting event where my plus-one had to be a woman. I wanted to bring my boyfriend—my chief engineer—and my chief officer is another huge supporter of women on deck. Excluding them feels counterproductive. As for chat groups generally, I’m in more WhatsApp groups than I can count—and they’re all on mute now. They’re best for targeted things—vendor recommendations, hiring leads—not constant chatter.
Is the public perception of superyachts negative? Is it fair—and should we try to change it?
A lot of people have a knee-jerk attitude—“that’s the rich guy.” But who funds so much philanthropy? Breast cancer orgs, humane societies, research projects, Boys and Girls Clubs—so much comes from wealthy donors. Yes, some wealthy people can be jerks—so can people in every class. Pound for pound, wealthy individuals, yachting or not, do a lot for society. The blanket negativity is unfair.
Magic wand: if you could change one thing about the modern yachting industry, what would it be and why?
Zero-tolerance drugs and alcohol while crew are signed on—at sea, at the dock, or in the yard. If you changed that, you’d change the whole industry. Think about anything bad that happens in yachting—alcohol is almost always involved. Commercial has this right: they pair zero tolerance with proper rotation. If you expect someone to be dry for months, you give them real time off at home to live their life. I run a dry boat. People say, “If you’re tied to the dock, it’s different.” No—boats can catch fire or start sinking at the dock, too. I can’t have a drunk crewmember who’s on my fire team.
I tell my crew, if you want to get plastered, call me; I’ll get you a hotel—just don’t come back to the boat. That’s a big reason my turnover is so low. Pair zero tolerance with proper rotation, and you improve safety and quality of life across the board.