Callista: The Crew’s Perspective

Callista: The Crew’s Perspective

This is a treat! I asked our captain Roland if he would contribute a little to my story of buying Callista. It’s a lot of fun to hear what this life is like from their perspective. Roland and Vanessa have lots of experience with crewing sailboats in the Caribbean. You can read more about them here. But for now, take it away, Captain…

Cheryl asked if we would put a few words down on our thoughts about our last two years on Callista. My knee jerk reaction was “YES” and then I felt a little intimidated, followed by a feeling of mutual pride in ALL that we have accomplished in what could be perceived as a short time.

Bear with me as we reflect and ponder over what has been an incredible journey. I haven’t kept notes, so I will draw inspiration from the emotions we feel right now, sitting at the chart table enveloped by Callista in all her entirety and guided by her moods.

The beginning…

We had a pretty good idea that Bill and Cheryl were serious, but we weren’t convinced they would go through with it.

Like many crew, we have had guests who after seven nights are so completely immersed in this emotional charter experience that they decide then and there to buy a boat. They fly home thinking, “It’s so simple. Let’s just buy our own boat.”

The reality is they get Stateside, and as hard as they try, as much as they push back, real life takes over inch by inch until they concede and tap out.
Not this family!

Hurricane Irma came and went, which is a story in itself. Just before Maria came by to say hi, we were on the phone with the Drury family from Dominican Republic. They ‘invited’ us to hide away from Maria at their home. Remember, we have only really just met them. We had spent 7 nights with them on charter and, they are opening their hearts and home to us hurricane refugees! (I have to add that at that point we hadn’t even heard from our then-current employer of two years.)

We discussed everything, slowly working towards what we all hoped would be the same result. I recall one conversation where we were quite sure that, after being involved first-hand with Irma and Maria, the Drurys would take this opportunity (one of many!) to get out of this pending relationship. I mean…horses…farm…kids in College…kids in High school…business…life in general… Bill and Cheryl’s response was “We like a challenge.”

Three months later we found ourselves in Palma de Mallorca, Spain, as the newly appointed crew of Callista, a one-year-old 62-foot Lagoon Catamaran proudly owned by Bill and Cheryl.

It’s been a pretty steep learning curve, more so for the Drurys, I suppose. We had it figured out, we liked each other, and the owners recognized the importance of placing their crew first, literally and figuratively. They hired us before buying the boat and that spoke volumes for us. We were important to them and were valued.

Crew thrive on affirmation and this is a huge compliment. We in turn will respect your substantial investment AND your family and do the very best we can. From our perspective the Drurys have done everything they could possibly do to make this relationship work, and that’s what it is: a relationship. Their actions have made us look good, plain and simple. For first time boat owners, I’m quite sure they may do a few things differently (hopefully not too many!) the next time around.

We agreed on a contract with a three-year term. That is about to come to an end soon; however, owner and crew have both acknowledged that we would like to extend that indefinitely and evolve into whatever it might be.

To prospective boat owners reading this, and not to put a damper on this otherwise amazing incredibly enriching experience, don’t do it for the money! I didn’t really want to bring this into the subject matter; however, it’s a huge part of it. Cheryl asked what, if anything, they could have done differently or better. My answer: honestly, nothing. Even as relatively new boat owners, you have done it right. You didn’t do it for the money—because there isn’t any! The best we can do is manage the loss. If an owner wants to make money and then tries to micromanage to a sometimes ridiculous degree, this creates friction and frustrates the crew. And the crew then move on.

One regret is that we truly wish we could see the owners more on charter. We were on track to perhaps play host to the Drury family five or six times during 2020. It’s not to be, I’m afraid. Enter the dreaded Corona Virus. We have seen the Drurys only once this year, at New Year’s.

Any outsider would think this industry is crazy. The owners invest a huge sum of money into a boat. If the boat is put into commercial charter in an attempt to offset some of the overhead, then the owner could get to be on their yacht perhaps half a dozen times a year. The crew live on this beautiful luxury boat full time AND gets paid a salary, and the owners’ overhead is 20% of the capital cost. Who is the fool here?! Shhhhh, don’t tell a soul. It’s our secret!

But all is not what it seems. This job/career as commercial charter crew is not for everyone. It certainly looks glamorous to outsiders. To be frank, we wouldn’t want to be doing anything else right now. But it’s awful if you are here for any other reason than you love boats and being on the water. It’s not fair on the owner, it’s not fair on your guests, it’s not fair on your partner, and it’s not going to end well.

Almost 3 years ago we didn’t know the Drury family. They arrived, like any other guests, and we, crew and guests, were thrust together immediately into each other’s personal space for 7 nights…BAM! It takes a special kind of person to want to charter and a special kind of person to want to be crew.
When the charter is over, the guests disembark, some guests repeat the experience and some never want to set foot onboard a boat again, EVER…and some BUY a boat!

For those who don’t know, and are curious as to what we do, it’s simple: EVERYTHING! Off charter we do repairs, preventative maintenance and clean, clean, clean….and then clean again. Wash, rinse, repeat!
Living onboard during COVID-19 is pretty much the same as normal, although we have to time when we go to the stores or for fuel for the generator, etc. Yacht living is pretty much living in self-quarantine and the epitome of social distancing. It’s what we do— we live in our little bubbles (yachts), smile and wave at other folks going past in the distance.

Living onboard we try to ‘work’ regular hours. We roll out of bed between 6-7am, stumble past the coffee machine and switch it on. Next, check battery levels and water/fuel tank levels, and then switch off the generator and A/C. Open the cockpit sliding doors and the fresh Easterly Tradewinds (most times) greet you with enthusiasm. Open the salon windows to create a fresh draft. Walk to the aft transom and prepare the swim ladder. Do a quick recce of the situation to see that no one has dragged anchor. Check wind direction, clouds etc. and gulp in fresh sea air like it’s the last…and dive into the Caribbean Sea.

When coffee is ready, I try to always bring Vanessa her first cup in bed, but sometimes she will beat me to it. We chat, slowly unfold from our slumber, check Facebook, and check emails as South Africa is 6 hours ahead. We discuss whether we are taking a walk and which trail. If we are staying put, Vanessa does Yoga upstairs on the fly bridge and I do my pushups in the cockpit. If we aren’t anchored close to a trail or the opportunity for a walk onshore/beach, we will do exercises onboard…well, at least we will think about it. That’s followed by breakfast, and then I will glance over my preventative maintenance spreadsheet and/or pressing repairs. Vanessa prepares lunch. Lunch is typically a salad and protein at 1pm-ish followed by a swim/snorkel/dive. Dinner is quite often a braai (BBQ) whilst enjoying the never disappointing view/sunset over the Caribbean Sea. Switch on the generator, reverse osmosis water maker, battery chargers and A/C…and close the windows and sliding doors in preparation for the night shift. We don’t have access to regular TV, so Vanessa reads a lot, or we binge Netflix shows till around 10pm.

Most times we are on anchor (as opposed to being in a slip in a marina). During this lockdown, we are permanently on anchor. When we prepare for a charter, we will typically be in a marina tied to a dock to collect provisions, etc. Being on anchor means being more aware of the weather and possibility of our anchor dragging or my neighbor’s anchor dragging, and basically ALWAYS being aware all of the time for possible fire/flooding 24/7.

We are the guardians of our employer’s property 24/7 and not only when we have guests onboard. Our bubble is 62ftx32ft. We love this lifestyle and yes, it certainly feels like ‘cheating’ at times and the gains are pretty impressive. But rest assured, the losses are just as big whilst living a transient lifestyle away from home, away from a network of friends and family, never really being ‘off duty.’ Our employers are very sympathetic to the challenging issues crew are faced with, and they do their utmost to assist where they can.

It’s a choice to work in this industry, we are eternally grateful, especially during these trying times. Being in the recreational industry has its risks; when times are difficult, recreation is the last thing on many people’s minds. However, these beautiful boats still have to be monitored and maintained, and the show goes on in preparation for when the situation turns around. We go about our tasks diligently and with purpose. By default these recreational vessels are usually in beautiful remote locations away from the mainland city craziness, and again, we are grateful for that. We have our lockdowns, our social distancing and irregular shopping for necessities, but I’m not that naïve to think it’s as hard for us as it is in the major centers. We are extremely thankful and appreciative for our blessings.

Cheryl again here. I am so very appreciative to Roland and Vanessa for putting this together! If you’ve got questions I know they would love to hear them, so please feel free to leave them in the comments. This is the end (for now) of my look at the boat. Time to start writing about other interesting things. See you soon!

Leave a Reply