Captain Sean P. Meagher holds a United States Coast Guard Unlimited Tonnage All Oceans license for both sail and power and is an advanced ice pilot. He has commanded some of the world’s most sophisticated and technologically advanced vessels. Sean has won numerous awards for exploration, conservation, and management, and speaks internationally on various topics at universities, corporations, and private institutions. He is a member of the Yacht Club d’Monaco’s Captain Club, The Saint Francis Yacht Club of San Francisco and the New York Explorer’s Club.
I began my journey on Cape Cod at the age of 8 when my mother gave me a Laser sailboat and told me to be careful and wear a life jacket. In today’s world, she probably would have been arrested. By age 14, I was hired onboard a sightseeing boat as a deckhand. The Prudence, built in 1911, had its original rope steering, and I was so short that I had to stand on a box to see over the wheel!
By 18, I had grown a few inches and obtained my first Captain’s License, a USCG 100-ton inland license. That same year, I was made Captain of the Prudence. From there, my license took me to many places. After the Prudence, I moved to New York City and worked for World Yacht, a company that ran dinner cruises around Manhattan Island. Then, I went west to the desert, an odd place to run boats. However, as I would learn, the Colorado River was one of the wildest bodies of water I had ever encountered. Running search and rescue boats and water taxis in 15 knots of current with rocks was a lot of fun.
Back across the United States, I went to Portland, Maine, where I ran a variety of vessels from ferries to whale watch boats. Without realizing it, I had worked for some of the best managers I would ever encounter. They shaped and molded me into the Captain and manager I am today. On Cape Cod, at Hyline Cruises, I worked with Captains like Riche Bowen, who had been with the Ballard expedition to discover the Titanic, and Bud Conroy, one of the youngest Unlimited Masters in history who had commanded some of the largest vessels on the planet.
In New York, the Colorado River, and Maine, I worked with amazing teachers who not only taught me boat handling but also how to get the best out of my crew and myself. The list of great people I have learned from is too long to detail here. Equally valuable, though and thankfully much shorter, is the list of bad managers from whom I “learned.”
In Maine, while working on a whale watch boat, I was teaching a deckhand to use the radar. Afterward, the head Captain came up to me and said I should be careful doing that because, in a few years, the deckhand might have my job. I was baffled! Weren’t we supposed to be teaching our crew? My response was not flippant but matter of fact: “Kevin, he is welcome to it because I won’t be here in a few years.”
A harder lesson came when, in the mid-90s, while I was working as mate on a 45m vessel. The Captain I worked under was not a great leader and not the mentor I was looking for. It seemed the harder I worked, the more I just couldn’t get right. Eventually, I was fired from the job. It was the first time I had ever been fired from anything. He even suggested that I look for another career.
I took it pretty hard and did exactly what you shouldn’t do after a bad relationship: I jumped right back into the saddle, running the MV Crossrip, a 35m passenger ferry between Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard. That first month was tough; I second-guessed myself, was a bit of a tyrant to the crew, and for the first time was “nervous” behind the wheel.
One afternoon, the wind was blowing about 40 knots off the dock, which was sandwiched between yachts and rocks. The Crossrip had no bow thruster and was not a great handling boat on the best of days. As I was backing into the slip, I heard a loud bang and lost my starboard engine. I had approached from an odd angle to minimize the set as I was backing. I was in a bad position when the power failure happened.
They say that circumstances make the man; however, I believe that circumstances “reveal the man.” Up until that moment, I had doubted myself and was full of fear. As soon as that engine exploded, it was as if something welled up inside me and said to that fear, “step aside.” I was back. All my years of reflexes driving single-screw boats kicked in, and I put the Crossrip on the dock as if I had two engines and the day was calm.
Afterward, on my way home, I realized that all of the “fear” was just in my head. I vowed to myself right then and there that I would continue to upgrade my licenses, study management, and invest in the development of my crew and myself.
When I interview a candidate for a position onboard, one of the questions I ask is, “If you could be anything—an astronaut, an actor, a brain surgeon—what would it be?” I ask this question to see if they have goals and aspirations. My view is that it’s selfish to approach candidates with the attitude of “what can you do for me?” That is not sustainable and is what I believe accounts for the lack of loyalty and crew burnout that plagues not just our industry but our society today. If you want to get the most out of your people, you have to put the most into them. I am not talking about money. If you know a person’s hopes, dreams, and aspirations and help them achieve them, they will help you.
I have used this philosophy to build some of the most dynamic programs in our industry and, as a byproduct, produce some of the best crew in yachting. Isn’t that why we are here? To leave the industry better after we are gone. Isn’t that why our crew took the time to nominate us for this amazing award?
To quote Arnold Schwarzenegger: “I didn’t make it that far on my own. I mean, to accept that credit or that medal would discount every single person that has helped me get here today, that gave me advice, that made an effort, that lifted me up when I fell. The whole concept of the self-made man or woman is a myth.”
I humbly thank all my crew who took the time to nominate me and to those who have gone on to be Captain’s, Chief Engineers, Commercial airline pilots, Estates managers, Authors, Cinematographers, business owners and great parents.
I am so proud of you all.
Captain Sean P. Meagher
