A Day in the Life: Paper Seas
With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. #26/0046. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew.
Day in the Life: Paper Seas — Diary of a Yacht Manager
By Erica Lay, Superyacht Crew Agent and Author of Superyacht Life: How to Start, Succeed, & Stay Sane. Out now on Amazon.
06:30 – Wake, Panic, Repeat
Wake up, check phone, immediately regret it. Twelve emails marked urgent arrived overnight. None actually are. One’s a crew member asking if his Wi-Fi allowance covers Netflix, another’s a captain forwarding a ten-page spreadsheet with no context, and one’s a yacht owner wondering if VAT is “optional.”
07:15 – Coffee & Crisis
Boot up the laptop. My inbox looks like a live crime scene. Crew contracts, insurance renewals, flag-state inspections, MLC compliance — all due yesterday. I make a list, then immediately lose it under another pile of lists.
08:00 – Budget Ballet
Open Excel. Discover someone spent €2,400 on “miscellaneous supplies.” I dig deeper. It’s candles. Scented. “For ambience,” says the purser. I breathe deeply and remind myself that prison orange isn’t my colour.
09:30 – Call with the Captain
He’s in the Med, I’m in Mallorca, and the Wi-Fi sounds like it’s routed through Mars. “Can you hear me?” he asks. No. I can’t. Not his words, not his excuses, not the sound of my youth slipping away. We discuss fuel budgets, provisioning, and crew turnover. He ends with, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” That’s the most worrying sentence in the industry.
10:45 – Insurance Insanity
Broker calls. The owner wants to add “two experimental water toys” to the policy. They’re basically floating jet engines with Bluetooth. The insurer says no. The owner says “but Elon has one.” I email everyone a polite, professional “we’ll review coverage options,” while muttering, “we absolutely will not.”
12:00 – Lunch (Theoretically)
Half a sandwich, eaten one-handed while drafting an email about an incident report that somehow includes the phrase “slippery sushi.” A chef slipped, a guest laughed, and now there’s a medical bill in Monaco and a lawsuit in motion. Pass the antacids.
13:15 – Crew Drama Hour
Chief stew wants to fire her second stew for “bad vibes.” Engineer wants a pay rise “to reflect his value.” The captain wants to swap both out “for morale.” I suggest team-building. They suggest I walk the plank.
14:30 – Compliance Purgatory
Open an email from the flag state. It’s 14 pages of regulation updates written in legalese and spite. I forward it to the captain with the words, “For awareness,” which is yacht-management code for I’m not reading this either.
15:45 – Owner Check-In
Video call with the owner, who’s sitting on his terrace in the Bahamas, cocktail in hand. “How’s my boat?” he asks. I glance at the report showing an engine alarm, a damaged tender prop, and a missing deck cushion. “She’s in great shape,” I say. “Just routine maintenance.” He smiles. I smile. We both lie beautifully.
17:00 – Accountant Acrobatics
Reconcile invoices. One crew member submitted a €600 charge for “crew motivation.” It’s tequila. I question it. He says, “It lifted spirits.” Hard to argue with that logic. I approve half. For science.
18:30 – The Paper Tsunami
Finish one report, start another. Compliance logs, budget forecasts, meeting notes — all due before the next full moon, apparently. My screen time is obscene, my caffeine intake criminal, and my left eye has started twitching Morse code.
19:45 – The Twilight Texts
Just as I’m packing up, the captain messages: “Small issue with the generator, but we’re managing.” Small issuetranslates to “half the yacht is dark, and someone’s crying.” I pour another coffee and reopen the spreadsheet.
21:00 – False Finish Line
Close laptop. Feel fleeting satisfaction. Phone pings: WhatsApp group chat, “URGENT – FIRE DRILL REPORT.” The drill was today. They set off the wrong alarm. Again. One stew fainted, one guest complained, and the dog’s still traumatised. I reply with: “Noted, thank you,” which in yacht management language means “I hate all of you equally.”
22:15 – Rosé & Reflection
Pour wine. Sit on the balcony. Watch the lights of the marina twinkling below. Every yacht out there runs because someone like me spends their days neck-deep in spreadsheets, bureaucracy, and diplomacy. We’re the invisible life support of floating empires.
Then the phone pings again. Another “quick question.” There’s no such thing as quick. Not in this job.
I sigh, sip, and type back with my best fake cheer: “Of course – happy to help!”
Because in yacht management, you don’t retire – you just eventually merge with your inbox.