Category: Yachting Culture

#26/0325. With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com.

The Yachtie Lifecycle: From Crew House to Country House

There is a fairly well-established lifecycle among yacht crew who come to Mallorca. Nobody plans it, obviously. They arrive in Palma in their twenties with a bag, an STCW certificate and the firm belief that they’re only here for a season. Fast forward fifteen or twenty years and there’s a reasonable chance they’re living somewhere in the middle of the island with a partner, two dogs and strong opinions about the best place to buy firewood. Somewhere along the way, Mallorca got them.

It generally begins in a crew house, that great yachting rite of passage where several complete strangers are thrown together on bunk beds while competing for jobs, fridge space and access to the washing machine. Everyone has recently arrived, nobody has much money yet and friendships form at extraordinary speed. Days are spent dockwalking, visiting agencies and trying to get that first break; evenings are considerably less productive. Your social circle can go from zero to twenty within a week, largely because nobody knows anybody else either. People come and go constantly as jobs are found, seasons begin and someone inevitably announces on Tuesday that they’re flying to Antibes tomorrow.

Then comes the first proper yacht job and, eventually, the first signs that Mallorca might be becoming something more than somewhere you pass through between contracts. You start knowing your way around Palma without Google Maps. You have favourite restaurants. People recognise you in bars. You stop saying you’re “based nowhere really” and start describing Mallorca as home, even though technically most of your possessions are still crammed into a crew cabin.

A few years pass and the crew house starts losing its appeal. Sharing one bathroom with six people no longer feels quite as hilarious as it did at 23, and the prospect of having an actual sofa becomes strangely exciting. Perhaps there’s a partner now, often another yachtie, because the chances of maintaining a relationship with somebody who doesn’t understand why you might disappear to Sardinia with twelve hours’ notice are fairly slim. There may even be talk of moving ashore one day, although everybody insists they’re definitely going to do “just a couple more years” first. Those couple of years have been known to last a decade.

Eventually, Palma itself can start feeling a little hectic. The bars and restaurants that were once the entire point of living there are still lovely, but suddenly you’re wondering whether you really need them on your doorstep. You’d quite like some space. Maybe a terrace. Somewhere to park. Then somebody mentions Alaró, Santa Maria, Calvia, Algaida or one of the other towns and villages inland, and before you know it you’re scrolling through property listings featuring exposed stone walls and phrases like “rustic charm”.

This is usually where the transformation gathers pace. A dog appears. Possibly two. Bicycles multiply in the garage. Weekends that once revolved around where everyone was going out now involve trips to garden centres, walks in the countryside and conversations about whether it’s too early to light the wood burner. The person who once came home at 5am is now getting up at 6am voluntarily because apparently that’s the best time to hike before it gets warm. Even more alarming, they’re happy about it.

Not everyone follows the exact same route, of course, and plenty of crew come to Mallorca, enjoy a few brilliant seasons and move on. But after almost twenty years working around the industry, I’ve watched an extraordinary number arrive here intending to stay briefly and somehow build an entire life instead. Yachting brought them to Mallorca, but careers evolve, people move ashore, businesses are started, children arrive and priorities change. Mallorca, meanwhile, quietly stops being the place where they work and becomes the place they want to come back to.

Every spring, another wave of young crew arrives in Palma dragging suitcases behind them, looking for their first job and asking where everyone goes out. They have absolutely no intention of settling down here.

Give them twenty years.

They’ll be living in the countryside wondering who’s going to feed the chickens while they’re away.

#YachtCrew #SuperyachtCrew #YachtJobs #YachtingJobs #YachtIndustry #CrewRecruitment #ELCREW #EricaLay #MallorcaBulletin #MallorcaYachting #TheFlyingFish #TheFlyingFishJobs

#26/0311.

The Michelin-Sysco Revolution: The Day Fine Dining Lost Its Soul. 

There was a time when a chef cooked! 
You could recognize him by his burned hands, his greasy hair, his permanent smell of garlic, and the expression of a man who had just survived a Saturday night with 200 covers and a broken combi oven.
Marco Pierre White. Gordon Ramsay in his early days. Mario Batali before the celebrity circus. Those were chefs who looked like they had actually been inside a kitchen.
Today, you walk into some kitchens and wonder if you accidentally entered a luxury hair salon.
Perfect manicure. Designer chef jacket. Exotic tattoos, Ponytail. Chanel reading glasses. You get the picture. 

“Excuse me, can I speak to the chef?”

“He’s not here. He’s in the Caribbean doing a photo shoot for his new cookbook.” 
The Chef is not cooking, he’s influencing!

And then, my friends, came the announcement that would change gastronomy forever.
Sysco, the giant food mass production empire, had partnered with the Michelin organization.
The press release said:

“We are proud to bring Michelin-level culinary excellence to every kitchen on the planet.”

Michelin-level excellence from a truck?

Ladies and gentlemen, the future had arrived. And apparently, it was frozen.
The new Michelin experience! 
Long gone were the days of making sauces from scratch.
Why spend three days making demi-glace when Sysco could deliver a five-gallon bucket of something that had been reduced somewhere in Doral, Florida, by a man who had never heard of Auguste Escoffier?
Why spend six hours making sourdough when you could order “Organic Artisan Sourdough bread Previously Frozen Michelin Collection”?
Why make pastry when the pastry division could send you a box of perfectly identical desserts, each one looking like it had been manufactured by a Swiss watchmaker with no soul?
The new Michelin-Sysco catalog offered everything:
Award-winning salad dressings.
Farm-to-table vegetables providing the farm was located next to the truck and the table had enough freezer space.
Handcrafted sauces by somebody who pressed a button.
And, of course, the revolutionary Twelve-Course Tasting Menu in 60 Minutes.

The chef simply opened the freezer, pulled out twelve containers, arranged everything on beautiful plates, and voilà!

“Chef, how did you achieve such extraordinary execution?”

“Years of training, dedication, and a very reliable delivery driver.”

The Michelin inspector took one bite.
“Magnifique!”
The chef smiled.
“Thank you.”

He did not mention that “The Canard à l’orange” had arrived in a plastic bag.

But the real miracle was happening in yachting.
The modern yacht chef was now expected to be:
Executive Chef. Sous Chef.
Pastry Chef. Baker. Crew Chef. Purchaser. Provisioner. Storekeeper. Administrator. Galley cleaner and occasionally, the personal chef for the Captain’s family.
All in one person for 120 days without interruption. No crew cook. Limited refrigeration and freezer the size of a coffin.  
A pantry designed by somebody who had never cooked a meal a galley shared with the interior crew because apparently the stewardesses needed somewhere to store 400 glasses of champagne.

Meanwhile, the future employer writes:
“Seeking Michelin-starred chef for private yacht/estate. 
Must be flexible, organized, creative, and able to produce a 12-course tasting menu at short notice, yes Short notice?
My friend, I have just fed 16 crew members, provisioned the vessel, cleaned the galley, checked the food inventory, answered seven WhatsApp messages from the owner, and discovered that the Captain has taken half the chicken breasts home for his family.
Now you want me to produce a twelve-course tasting menu gluten free, nuts free and soul free. All ingredients organic of course.
Give me five minutes.
I will simply pull the ingredients out of my ass.
What else would a Michelin chef do?

The employer probably thinks Michelin is a magical word that turns one exhausted human being into six trained professionals.
This is not fine dining.
This is culinary science fiction.
And the chef is the unpaid special effects department.
I sometimes struggle to understand why people in the yachting industry still place so much importance on Michelin stars.
I have eaten in Michelin-starred restaurants. Some have been fantastic. I still fantasize about returning to The French Laundry in Napa Valley, Mirazur outside Monaco, and other extraordinary restaurants that  I had the  privilege of experiencing exceptionally tasting food.
But let me tell you something.
Those kitchens have brigades.
Eighteen, twenty-five, sometimes more, chefs working in perfect synchronicity.
One person makes the sauce, another handles the fish, another prepares the vegetables, another works pastry, another impeccably executes plating. Another supervises.  Everybody has a station. Everybody has a responsibility.
That is how you produce exceptional food consistently.

Now take that same expectation and give it to one yacht chef. One person.
One galley designed by Gucci. One house refrigerator, one chest freezer. One hundred last-minute requests. Different countries. Different suppliers,  ingredients.
Limited storage and counter space. No crew cook and no pastry chef.
No rest and the expectation is Michelin-level execution.
My friends, that is not a culinary challenge.
That is a psychiatric experiment.

What happened to good food?
The original idea of fine dining was never supposed to be about a star on the wall. It was about craftsmanship, seasonality, hospitality and respect for ingredients. Respect for the guest. Respect for the people doing the work.

But somewhere along the way, we started confusing expensive with exceptional.
A $100,000 menu budget,  famous chef, a spacious mediocre dining room that most of the time is empty.
A bottle of wine that costs more than a crew member’s monthly salary.
And suddenly, everybody is an expert.
But ask some people to identify a real tomato from a supermarket tomato, or explain what seasonal cooking means, and you get the same expression as a guest who has just been told the Wi-Fi is not working.
Perhaps some people were raised on microwave dinners and television trays. Perhaps they never had the opportunity to develop a food culture.

And perhaps the industry has done a magnificent job convincing them that a star is more important than the food itself. I don’t know.
But I do know this:
A Michelin star does not automatically make a meal meaningful.
And a chef without a star can cook food that makes you remember your grandmother, your country, your childhood, and the reason you fell in love with cooking in the first place.
That, to me, is worth more than a thousand corporate press releases.

Now thanks to The  Michelin-Sysco  partnership, the chef of the future will have everything he needs.
Sysco will be his sous chef.
The app will tell him how to reheat the product.
The truck will deliver the premade food.
The freezer will store the product.  Let’s pray the freezer is big enough and  the Michelin organization will provide the emotional support.

“Chef, your twelve-course tasting menu is ready.”
“Chef, your Michelin star is ready.”
The only thing missing is the chef.

But don’t worry.
The stew cook can do it.
After all, she has been making breakfast, lunch, dinner, crew snacks, guest snacks, cocktails, laundry, housekeeping, and flower arrangements for the last six months.

Surely she can execute a Michelin-level tasting menu with Sysco help.
Sysco is a blessing!

Finally, we have found a way to make a stew cook deliver Michelin-star standards.
Bon appétit, everyone.

Behind the beautiful plates, the perfect photographs, and the expensive menus, there is often a human being.
A chef who has sacrificed his health, his family, and his peace of mind for a star that may not even mean what it once meant.

And for what?
Who is judging us?
Who are we cooking for?
And who is educating the public to appreciate the food and wine we are working so hard to produce?

When the pursuit of excellence destroys the person delivering it, something has gone terribly wrong.
A chef is not a machine.
Give him the right conditions, proper rest, a functional galley, enough hands, and a respectful crew. Then watch what he can do.

Because real culinary excellence does not come from a five-gallon bucket.
It comes from knowledge, discipline, passion, ingredients, teamwork, and a little bit of madness.
The good kind of madness.
The kind that makes you wake up at four in the morning thinking about a sauce.
The kind that makes you travel across the world to find the perfect ingredient.
The kind that makes you cook for people because you genuinely want them to feel good.
That is what food is about.
Food is about happiness, life, emotions and long lasting memories.
And if we forget that, we have already lost the plot.

To all the chefs gradually being substituted by the stew cook, 
I wish you: A spacious, functional and safe galley.
A patient and compassionate crew. Respectful guests.
An owner who understands that a chef is a human being.
And enough rest to remember why you started cooking in the first place.
May your sauces be from scratch, your ingredients be seasonal, your freezers be large, and your Michelin stars be optional.
Because at the end of the day, my friends, the greatest award is not the star on the wall.
It is the smile on someone’s face when they take a bite and say:

“Chef, this reminds me of home.”

Now that’s fine dining and no delivery truck can manufacture that.

Cooking Was The Easy Part. 

Chef Raffie

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#Yachting #YachtChef #SuperyachtChef #ChefLife #ChefLifeStyle #YachtLife #YachtingLife #YachtingIndustry #Superyacht #Superyachts #FineDining #FineDiningChef #MichelinStar #MichelinGuide #Gastronomy #CulinaryArts #CulinaryExcellence #FoodCulture #RealFood #CookingFromScratch #ChefCulture #ProfessionalChef #ChefLife #GalleyLife #YachtCrew #YachtCrewLife #CrewLife #YachtIndustry #YachtingCulture #TheFlyingFish

#26/0307. With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com

The Great Yachtie Fitness Arms Race

Nobody ever plans for it to happen… It starts innocently enough… One crew member buys a Garmin watch because they want to get a bit fitter. Another signs up for a local 10km race. Somebody else starts cycling on their days off. Nobody thinks much of it. Then, somehow, everything escalates.

Six months later, the crew mess is full of conversations about VO2 max scores, resting heart rates, protein intake and whether cold-water immersion is genuinely beneficial or simply a way for grown adults to make themselves miserable before breakfast.

Welcome to the Great Yachtie Fitness Arms Race.

Like most things in yachting, it begins with good intentions and rapidly spirals out of control. I’ve seen it happen countless times over the years. One crew member starts running and suddenly everyone is running. Somebody enters a triathlon and before long half the marina is discussing training plans. One person buys a bicycle and within a year they’re riding something made entirely of carbon fibre that costs more than my first car.

The strange thing is that yacht crew aren’t naturally competitive at all.

Only joking.

Yachting attracts ambitious, driven people. Put a group of them together and almost anything can become a competition. If somebody hikes ten kilometres, somebody else immediately wants to do twelve. If one person signs up for a half marathon, another decides a full marathon sounds more impressive.

And if somebody mentions they’ve completed an Ironman, there will almost certainly be a yachtie somewhere quietly Googling Ironman entry requirements before the conversation has even finished.

So yeh, technology hasn’t exactly helped. Once upon a time, people simply went for a walk. Now they track the walk. They analyse the walk. They compare the walk with previous walks and then upload the walk to an app so everyone else can admire the walk. “Let’s be Strava friends!” is something we never thought we’d hear young people saying to each other but here we are, liking, sharing, congratulating each other on our activities. 

I know all this because I’m almost just as guilty. Some years ago, after I got properly into hiking (which coincided with our Big Move to the countryside and adopting a rather feisty German Shepherd who needed a lot of exercise), my husband Jimmy bought me one of Garmin’s all-singing, all-dancing watches. Officially, this was because I have a remarkable talent for falling over absolutely nothing, and he felt the emergency features might prove useful if I disappeared into the Tramuntana. Or perhaps more accurately, off the side of part of the Tramuntana. 

Unofficially, I suspect he realised that if I had an accident, our German Shepherd Nala would be about as much use as an embarrassed teenager. Rather than raising the alarm, she’d probably pretend not to know me and wander off looking for sheep to play with.

The safety features were sensible. The obsession that followed was not. What began as a way to track hikes quickly became a fascinating source of statistics. Distance. Elevation. Heart rate. Recovery times. Sleep scores. Training readiness. Suddenly every walk, hike and run generated data. And once you start collecting data, it’s surprisingly difficult to stop.

The same thing seems to happen throughout the yachting community. Before long, conversations that once revolved around crew parties and marina gossip are replaced with discussions about training plans, hydration strategies and whether anyone has signed up for the next race.

Of course, there are worse obsessions to develop… I tell myself. 

Many crew discover that exercise provides balance alongside a demanding career. It creates friendships, improves mental health and encourages people to make the most of being berthed in places like Mallorca. If the occasional fitness gadget helps motivate somebody to get outside and explore the island, that’s probably no bad thing.

Still, it’s difficult not to laugh at how quickly things escalate.One minute you’re buying a watch because it might help in an emergency. The next you’re standing in a marina comparing recovery scores with a chief engineer and wondering whether your sleep quality has been negatively affected by that second coffee.

And somewhere nearby, a newly arrived yachtie is looking on in confusion.

Give them a year… They’ll have a Garmin too.

#YachtJobs #YachtingJobs #SuperyachtJobs #CrewJobs #YachtCrew #YachtLife #YachtingLife #StewDeck #SoleStew #DeckStew #MotorYacht #PrivateYacht #SouthOfFrance #FrenchRiviera #YachtCrewWanted #CrewWanted #YachtCareers #SuperyachtCrew

Day in the Life: Diary of a Superyacht Nanny

By Erica Lay

#26/0305. With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com

06:30 – The Human Alarm Clock

Awake to find a small child standing beside my bed staring directly at me. Not crying. Not speaking. Just silently watching. It’s somehow more unsettling than any emergency alarm I’ve ever heard.

“Are you awake?” they ask. I wasn’t. I am now.

07:30 – Breakfast Negotiations

One child wants pancakes. One wants cereal. One wanted pancakes until the pancakes arrived and now wants cereal instead. Chef produces breakfast spread fit for royalty. Somebody asks for toast cut into dinosaur shapes. Chef gives me loaded look. I visibly wither.

09:00 – Operation Holiday Magic

Today’s itinerary includes treasure hunts, paddleboarding, beach games, arts and crafts and a private movie night under the stars. The children would like to play with a cardboard box. The cardboard box wins by unanimous decision.

10:30 – Sunscreen Wars

Apply sunscreen. Reapply sunscreen after an unauthorised swim. Apply sunscreen again after somebody uses the swim platform as a waterslide. By lunchtime I’ve personally handled enough SPF 50 to protect a small nation. Avoid the death stares from stews cleaning small sunscreen handprints off every single surface on board.

11:45 – Toy Story

The yacht is carrying enough toys to open a small amusement park. SeaBobs. Paddleboards. Kayaks. Towables. Inflatables.The children’s favourite activity today involves throwing pebbles into a bucket and naming them after Disney characters.

Money truly cannot buy happiness.

13:00 – Lunch & Logic

Chef presents beautiful homemade pasta. One child requests chicken nuggets. Another announces they’re “not hungry.”Three minutes later they’re starving and attempting to steal chips from their sibling. Civilisation begins to unravel.

14:30 – The Missing Item Emergency

Every day has one. Today’s crisis concerns a missing flip-flop.A full-scale search operation is launched involving crew members and two tenders. The flip-flop is eventually discovered on the child’s foot. No apology is forthcoming.

16:00 – Educational Activities

Attempt to teach children about marine life. Conversation quickly derails into whether sharks have birthdays and if dolphins pay taxes. Honestly, I’ve heard worse questions from yacht owners.

17:30 – The Parent Effect

Parents emerge from a relaxing afternoon. The children immediately become polite, charming and suspiciously well behaved. One offers to help tidy up. I briefly consider asking if they’ve been swapped for better models.

19:00 – Dinner Diplomacy

A guest compliments the children on their impeccable manners. I smile warmly while remembering somebody licked jam off a handrail this morning.

20:15 – Cat Herding

Parent asks me if I’m enjoying my “holiday”. I answer by blinking twice at the Stew who interrupts to serve them more wine as I continue my battle of corralling their offspring towards their beds. Spend fifteen minutes wrangling small wriggly dictators into pyjamas.

20:30 – Bedtime Stories

Read one story. Read a second story. Read a third story because apparently the second story “ended too suddenly.”Negotiate hard. Lose. Read a fourth story.

21:30 – Debrief

Children asleep. Cabin finally quiet. Discover enough sand in my shoes, pockets and hair to start my own beach. Review tomorrow’s programme and notice the words “pirate day.”Excellent.

22:00 – Attempt Adulting

Migrate to crew mess. Eat some dinner. Attempt meaningful interaction with other adults after spending fifteen hours with tiny overlords. Discover everyone else is also feeling brain dead and head to bed with sleepy tea.

22:30 – Lights Out

Collapse into bed. Today involved treasure hunts, sunscreen, missing shoes, emergency snack requests, pirate voices and explaining why mermaids probably don’t use jet skis.Tomorrow will be broadly similar.

And despite the chaos, somewhere in the middle of it all, a family has made memories they’ll talk about for years. Which is rather lovely.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have approximately six hours before somebody appears beside my bed and asks if I’m awake.

#26/0176. With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com

The Palma Superyacht Cup: Formula 1… But Floating

Every June, Palma de Mallorca suddenly becomes even more glamorous than usual. The marina fills with more enormous sailing yachts, the waterfront starts buzzing with crew in matching polos carrying armfuls of rope, and people strolling along the Paseo Marítimo begin asking the same question: “What exactly is going on?”

The answer is the Palma Superyacht Cup, Europe’s longest-running superyacht regatta and one of the biggest sailing events in the Mediterranean. This year’s edition takes place from 24 to 27 June and marks the regatta’s 30th anniversary, with organisers already confirming the biggest fleet in almost two decades. Go on, have a look at their website: thesuperyachtcup.com

For those outside the yachting bubble, however, the whole thing can feel slightly mysterious. From shore, it can look like a collection of very expensive boats zooming around the bay while wealthy people drink rosé. In reality, the Superyacht Cup is proper serious racing, just wrapped in a very Mediterranean layer of sunshine, linen shirts and dockside cocktails.

The yachts competing are not small. Many are worth severalmillion euros and are crewed by highly trained professional sailors and yacht crew who spend months preparing for these events. Some are sleek modern carbon-fibre machines built for performance, while others are classic sailing yachts that look as though they belong in a vintage Bond film. This year’s fleet is expected to include everything from elegant J Class yachts to newer performance multihulls, reflecting how the event has evolved over the years.

One reason the event works so well here is simple: Palma Bay is almost purpose-built for sailing. Mallorca offers (fairly)reliable sea breezes, beautiful conditions and enough sunshine to make even the hardest northern Europeans emotional. Add in Palma’s enormous marine industry, world-class shipyards and marinas, and it is easy to see why the city has become one of the superyacht capitals of the world.

Of course, one of the most confusing things for spectators is understanding who is actually winning. Unlike Formula 1, where the first car across the line wins, sailing is full of handicap systems and different yacht classes. The Superyacht Cup uses a rating system specifically designed for superyacht racing, meaning yachts of different sizes and designs can compete fairly against one another. 

So yes, the giant yacht that appears to be miles ahead may not technically be winning at all. Sailing fans will happily explain this to you in enormous detail after approximately two glasses of wine.

And while the racing itself looks graceful from shore, life onboard during regatta week is anything but relaxed. Crew are up early preparing the yacht, polishing every visible surface, organising sails and checking equipment before the racing even begins. Once underway, it becomes a high-pressure combination of teamwork, tactics and controlled chaos. Before race week, the interiors are usually stripped out of everything except the essentials – nobody needs champagne glasses launching themselves across the saloon as the yacht heels dramatically to one side. Plus, less weight equals faster boat. Which is why you’ll even see things like washing machines getting hauled out onto the dock. 

The atmosphere ashore is a huge part of the event too. The regatta has built a reputation not just for competitive sailing, but for its social side. Owners, captains, crew, sponsors and industry figures all descend on Palma for several days of parties, sorry, not parties, “networking events” and dinners. There is an unmistakable vibe of summer officially startingaround the waterfront during regatta week.

For locals and visitors, the good news is you do not need to own a superyacht to enjoy it. Some of the best viewing spots are simply along the waterfront itself. The area around the Cathedral offers fantastic views across the bay, while Portixoland the Paseo Marítimo provide excellent vantage points to watch the yachts heading out to race. Even seeing them moored in the marina is impressive enough. 

Perhaps that is why the Superyacht Cup has become such a fixture in Palma’s calendar. It combines elite sport, luxury lifestyle, serious sailing and classic Mediterranean atmosphere in a way very few events manage. Even people with absolutely no interest in sailing often find themselves stopping to watch.

And if you still do not fully understand the racing rules by the end of it, don’t worry. Just nod thoughtfully, say something like “beautiful sail trim,” drink your rose, and continue enjoying the view.

By Chef Raffie. #26/0137.

Dedicated to Remo Maute!

Dear Remo;
thank you for saying publicly what some of us have been trying to explain for years.

Now let me start with a public service announcement to the future chefs in the yachting industry! If it is too good to be true, it’s not true!

Somewhere along the way, social media convinced people that being a private chef for UHNW families is mostly sunlight, marble countertops, slow-motion olive oil pours, and filming yourself cutting chives while soft jazz or techno music plays in the background.

Meanwhile, in the real world, the actual professionals are too busy working 14-hour days, changing menus 17 times, managing allergies, last-minute guests, security protocols, impossible logistics, and learning the fine art of disappearing while somehow making everything run perfectly.

The irony is that the best private chefs in this world are usually the least visible ones.

Because if you truly understand discretion, trust, and the level of responsibility involved in these households… your first instinct is not to pull out your phone and become a lifestyle influencer.

And sadly, a very large percentage of people entering this industry today don’t yet understand the difference between “content creation” and actual service at the UHNW level.

Ah yes… the sacred final stage of the yachting lifecycle.

Some chefs, instead of quietly retiring into the sunset with dignity, suddenly discover their true calling — becoming “elite mentors” online the moment the charters stop calling.

One day they’re screaming at a broken dishwasher on a 42-meter with no dry storage…
and the next day they’re on Instagram selling a $2000 masterclass titled:

“Manifesting Your Dream Life as an Ultra High Net Worth Yacht Chef.”

One gets likes.
The other gets trusted.

Big difference.

Thank you again, my friend, for bringing a little reality back into the conversation without the garnish.

#26/0134. With Courtesy of Erica Lay. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com

So You Want a Job in Yachting? Here’s Where to Start

By Erica Lay, Superyacht Crew Agent and Author of Superyacht Life: How to Start, Succeed, & Stay Sane. Out now on Amazon.

Every year, especially as spring hits us in Mallorca, I start getting the same message: “I want to work on yachts. Where do I begin?”

The short answer? With a bit of realism.

The longer answer? Getting into yachting isn’t complicated, but it does require preparation, patience and a willingness to start at the bottom. Behind every glamorous photo you see online is a crew member who turned up early, learned quickly and proved they were reliable long before the fun parts kicked in.

If you’re thinking about joining the industry, here’s a brief intro – if you want to do a deep dive, well, buy my book. 

Step One: Get the Basics Right

Before you do anything else, make sure you’re medically fit to work at sea by completing an ENG1 medical with an approved doctor. It sounds obvious, but you’d be surprised how many people book courses before confirming they’re eligible.

Next comes STCW Basic Safety Training. It’s the foundation for almost every role onboard, covering firefighting, sea survival, first aid and personal safety. It might not be glamorous, but it’s essential and shows captains you’re serious about the job.

After that, keep your training relevant to the role you want. Deck crew often start with Powerboat Level 2, engineers with an Approved Engine Course, and interior crew with Food Hygiene Level 2. You don’t need a long list of certificates before your first job. Start with the essentials and build from there once you know the industry suits you.

Step Two: Understand Your Transferable Skills

One of the biggest misconceptions is that you need previous yacht experience to get hired. You don’t. What you do need is experience that translates well onboard.

Hospitality, customer service, childcare, trades, fitness, watersports, engineering, events, all of it counts. Yachts are essentially floating businesses, and captains are looking for people who can adapt quickly and work well within a team.

The key is presenting those skills clearly on your CV. Focus on reliability, professionalism and real-world experience rather than trying to sound impressive.

Step Three: Be Where the Jobs Are

Location still matters. In the Mediterranean, spring and early summer remain prime time for green crew to arrive in hubs like Palma. Autumn can also be busy as crews reshuffle after the season.

While online applications are part of the process, showing up professionally and networking in person often makes a bigger impact. Introduce yourself to crew agents, attend industry events, and yes, dockwalking is still a thing.

It can feel old-school, but a polite introduction and a good first impression can open doors faster than sending dozens of emails from home.

Step Four: Adjust Your Expectations

This is where the reality check comes in. Your first role is unlikely to be on a brand-new superyacht cruising the Caribbean with unlimited downtime. More often, it’s early mornings, long hours and learning the basics alongside a busy team.

That’s not a downside, it’s how you build credibility.

Captains are increasingly selective with green crew, looking for attitude and work ethic over social media presence. Showing initiative, staying positive and being willing to learn goes a long way.

Step Five: Play the Long Game

Yachting isn’t just a job, it’s a career path with room to grow if you stick with it. Many of the senior crew I work with started exactly the same way, knocking on docks, taking daywork, and learning from every opportunity that came their way.

The first job is often the hardest to secure, but once you’re in, momentum builds quickly. Treat every daywork role like a long-term audition. Be early, be prepared, and remember that this industry runs heavily on reputation.

If you’re ready to work hard, stay professional and keep a sense of humour when things don’t go exactly to plan, yachting can take you further than you might expect.

Just don’t forget, the real magic doesn’t start with a sunset photo, it starts with showing up and doing the basics well.

SIDE PANEL 

5 Mistakes Green Crew Still Make in 2026

1. Overloading the CV with courses
More certificates don’t automatically equal more job offers. Captains would rather see a solid attitude and relevant experience than a five-page course list.

2. Turning up without doing basic research
Know the marinas, understand the season, and learn the difference between private and charter yachts before you start knocking on passerelles.

3. Treating social media like a job application
Yes, the lifestyle looks amazing online. No, captains aren’t hiring based on sunset selfies. Professionalism still wins every time.

4. Expecting instant results
Some crew land work quickly, others take weeks. Consistency matters more than luck. Keep showing up, stay visible, and don’t disappear after a few quiet days.

5. Forgetting it’s still a professional industry
Dockwalking in beachwear, turning up late, or oversharing personal drama won’t help your chances. First impressions in yachting stick longer than you think.

#Yachting #Superyacht #SuperyachtCrew #YachtCrew #YachtLife #YachtJobs #GreenCrew #YachtingCareers #YachtingLife #CrewLife #DeckCrew #InteriorCrew #YachtStewardess #Deckhand #STCW #ENG1 #Dockwalking #PalmaDeMallorca #MallorcaYachting #MedSeason #YachtingIndustry #SuperyachtLife #YachtingTips #CrewAgent #NewToYachting #YachtingAdvice #TheFlyingFish

#26/0110. With Courtesy of Erica Lay. Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com.

The Real Backbone of Mallorca? It Floats.

By Erica Lay, owner of EL CREW CO International Yacht Crew Agency and author of Superyacht Life: How to Start, Succeed, & Stay Sane.

Spend five minutes in Palma and it’s easy to assume the nautical industry is all about glossy hulls, linen shirts and the occasional glass of something cold. And yes, there’s plenty of that. But scratch beneath the surface and you’ll find something far more important quietly powering the island year-round.

Because here’s the reality: the yachting industry isn’t just part of Mallorca’s economy. It’s one of the engines keeping it running.

Palma has firmly established itself as one of the Mediterranean’s key refit and service hubs, with facilities like STP Shipyard Palma attracting yachts from across the globe. These aren’t quick polish-and-go pit stops either. We’re talking months of work, serious budgets, and a constant flow of skilled trades walking through the gates every morning.

And the numbers behind that activity are not small. A single large yacht in refit can spend hundreds of thousands, and in many cases millions, of euros over the course of a winter period. Multiply that across dozens of vessels passing through Palma each year, and you start to get a clearer picture of the financial weight this industry carries.

And those trades? They’re not flown in for the season and sent home again. They live here. They spend here. They build businesses here.

From marine engineers and electricians to painters, riggers, carpenters and project managers, the knock-on effect is enormous. One yacht in refit doesn’t just employ its crew. It supports a network of local professionals, subcontractors and suppliers, many of whom rely on this work not just as a bonus, but as the backbone of their annual income.

Then there are the chandlers, logistics companies, provisioning services, uniform suppliers, florists, fuel docks, tech specialists… the list goes on. Yachting isn’t a single industry. It’s an ecosystem. And Mallorca sits right in the middle of it.

It’s also worth noting that the development and ongoing investment in Mallorca’s port infrastructure hasn’t happened in a vacuum. The demand created by the yachting industry has played a significant role in shaping and funding the evolution of marinas, shipyards and associated facilities across the island. Quite simply, without the yachts, a lot of that development wouldn’t exist in the same way it does today.

Then there’s the part people often overlook. It’s wandering through Santa Catalina on a Tuesday night with a pay packet and a group chat that says, “Dinner?”

Crew. Hundreds of them.

Every season, Palma fills up with yacht crew from every corner of the world. They arrive for work, for opportunities, for “just one summer”… and then, more often than not, they stay a little longer than planned. And while they’re here, they spend.

Not cautiously, not sparingly, but enthusiastically.

Restaurants, bars, cafés, gyms, supermarkets, taxis, hairdressers, nail salons, physios, tattoo studios (questionable decisions may have been made here)… the ripple effect of crew spending is huge. These are young, working professionals with low to zero living costs onboard and a strong appetite for enjoying their downtime. And Mallorca gives them plenty of places to do exactly that.

Walk through Palma in winter, when the beach clubs have packed away the cushions and the flip-flop brigade has thinned out, and you’ll still find life. Busy restaurants. Full terraces. Bars with actual atmosphere. That’s not just luck. That’s yachting.

It also brings a level of stability that seasonal tourism simply can’t match. While the summer months are driven by holidaymakers, the nautical industry keeps money moving through the quieter periods. Refit season in particular turns what could be a slow winter into one of the busiest times of the year for many local businesses.

Of course, it’s not all smooth sailing.

There’s a tension that exists, and it’s worth acknowledging. Not everyone loves the sight of ever-larger yachts covered in plastic high on scaffolding dominating the Palma skyline, or the challenges that come with an industry built around high net worth individuals. Conversations around space, sustainability and long-term impact on the island aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

But here’s the thing. Strip the yachts away, and you don’t just lose a few flashy visitors. You lose jobs. You lose businesses. You lose a significant stream of year-round income that supports families, not just for a season, but for the long haul.

Few industries manage to combine high-value investment, skilled employment and year-round economic impact in quite the same way.

Mallorca has carved out something quite unique. It’s not just a destination where yachts come to anchor for a few days. It’s a place where they come to maintain, refit, recruit, provision and base themselves. That distinction matters. It’s what turns a fleeting visit into long-term economic value.

And as the Palma International Boat Show rolls around each year, it’s easy to get caught up in the spectacle of it all. The launches, the networking, the perfectly staged decks. But behind the scenes, the real story is much bigger.

It’s in the early morning deliveries. The late-night dinners after a long day in the yard. The small businesses quietly thriving because the work keeps coming. The crew who arrived for one season and are now bringing their families, signing leases, joining gyms, fostering dogs and building lives.

So yes, the yachts are impressive. No one’s arguing that.

But the real value of the nautical industry in Mallorca isn’t what you see tied up in the marina.

It’s everything that happens because of it.

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