My life runs on a schedule that sounds fake when I say it out loud – it’s the reality of working on a superyacht.
I work for two months straight on a superyacht (no, not a cruise ship).
Then I disappear for two months and live like a retired woman with the world’s longest skincare routine and absolutely nowhere to be.
There is no in-between.

When I explain this to people, there’s always a pause. Like they’re waiting for the punchline.
There isn’t one.
This is just… my job.
(I know.)
It’s called a rotation – specifically a 2:2 rotation, or “time for time”. Two months working, two months off.
When I’m working, I run the interior of a very large superyacht. Guests, team, logistics, provisioning, and about a million tiny details that no one notices unless shit hits the fan.
When I’m off, I wake up whenever I want, train in the gym for hours, read in the middle of the day, and sometimes don’t speak to another human for weeks.
Both versions are intense.
Just in completely opposite ways.
What I Actually Do (Because Everyone Asks)
This is what working on a superyacht actually involves day to day – not the Instagram version people usually see. I’m a Chief Stewardess, which basically means I run a floating luxury hotel where everything has to look effortless.
It is not effortless.
I manage:
- the interior team
- all guest-related purchases
- and everything guests might want during their stay, plus what crew need day to day
Drinks.
Flowers.
Snacks.
Toiletries.
Sunscreen.
Tea.
Cereal.
Random hyper-specific items that no one sells anywhere nearby.
If a guest wants something, it’s my job to make sure it appears onboard.
Sometimes that’s easy.
Sometimes it makes me want to roll my eyes into the back of my head.

A Very Normal List of Very Not-Normal Things
To give you a realistic idea of what this job actually involves, here’s a very non-exhaustive list of things I’ve had to organise:
- Honey Nut Cheerios flown in from the UK by a crew member I’d never met before, who arrived the next day with six boxes in their luggage.
The guests never asked for them.
(Again: normal.) - A very, very specific tea with less than 48 hours’ notice – not available locally, not elsewhere in Europe, not online anywhere. I phoned a flagship store in London with a plan to courier it to someone’s house so it could be flown out.
They didn’t have it either. - A request for a diet, low-calorie, gluten-free IPA under 2% alcohol, with less than 24 hours’ notice.
No brand name.
No idea if it existed.
Just vibes. - On one boat years ago, before I was in charge, the guests wanted ice from a nearby mountain for their drinks – so the helicopter went up to collect it.
None of this is unusual.
How My Rotation Works (The Practical Bit)
I work two months on, two months off.
This kind of rotation schedule is quite common when working on a superyacht as a Head of Department, mainly on the big boats, however, rotations vary a lot in yachting.
Some people do 5:1, 3:1, 4:2. Some boats don’t offer rotation at all and just give around 45+ days leave per year.
For me, 2:2 means:
- all flights to and from the boat are paid for
- I get paid during my time off
- I accrue leave one-for-one (work eight weeks, get eight weeks paid leave)
On paper, it sounds insane.
It is insane.
But it comes with a VERY specific way of living.
Life Onboard: When You’re On, You’re On

When I’m onboard, I don’t “go to work”.
I live at work.
What That Actually Looks Like
Here’s an extreme example (but a real one):
Last summer, I did a three-month stint on board and left the boat twice in three months.
Total time off the boat: two hours.
I took two half-days off in those three months. When we didn’t have guests on, I worked roughly 7am to 11pm. During charters (when guests were on), I did at least 18 hours a day, and several back-to-back 24-hour shifts, slept for a couple of hours, then started again.
I was absolutely wrecked by the end.
Not proud.
Not romantic.
Just reality.
It was one of those periods where I was new to the boat, had a brand-new team, and a LOT happening all at once.
During busy guest periods, 16-18 hour days are normal. As Chief Stew, everything runs through me – so when guests are onboard, my entire world narrows to service, logistics, and keeping things moving.
But during quieter times, for example, a winter season where the guests don’t want to use the boat, a lot of the time you’ll just work 8-5 like a normal job.
“But How Do You Work Out?”
Short answer: sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.
On some boats, the programme is more relaxed, and I can train every day (which is fabulous!). On others – especially during busy seasons – I might manage the gym once a week. Or once a month.
Not because I don’t care.
Working out is genuinely my favourite thing in the world. And if my body, energy and schedule allowed, I’d work out every day.
But when I’m at work, my sleep matters more.
During guest trips, I’m on my feet all day and easily walk 20-30km a day, so I stay active in other ways and accept that not every season is for perfect routines.
Food Onboard (A Reality Check)
Yes, we have chefs onboard.
That sounds amazing. And often is.
But you don’t get to choose what you eat or when.
A few years ago, I tried to go vegan. The chefs wouldn’t make vegan protein, so I had no choice but to start eating normally again (RIP to my vegan era, which lasted about 2 days)
The lack of control over food is honestly one of the hardest parts for me. At home, I’m a steamed-veggies-and-fish girl (+ snacks) and will happily eat the same thing every day.
So, not being able to eat what you want for months at a time is harder than people realise.
Some days the food is amazing.
Other days it’s fine.
Just not what I’d choose.
You just learn to adapt.
Life at Home: Absolute Freedom (and Why It Hits So Hard)
Then my leave starts, and my nervous system shuts down almost immediately.

I get two full months off, which as a single woman in her 30s is genuinely elite.
At a basic level, life slows right down.
Gym.
Long walks.
Sun.
Reading.
Rest.
Proper, unrushed time with my family – full days together, not squeezed-in visits. Being able to spend weeks at a time with my parents is something I’ll never take for granted.
My home routine is simple and very me:
wake up → gym → walk → potter → write → read → skincare → bed by 7pm.
And then there’s the other side of it.
Because rotation life doesn’t just give you time off – it gives you flexibility.
It means I can wake up one morning and think:
- Do I want to go to Bali for a month? Why yes. I do.
- Do I want to go to Ibiza with my best friend for ten days and casually upgrade our hotel room without spiralling about money? Also yes.
- Do I want to fly to England to see my parents for three weeks, fly back to South Africa… then hear my brother is home for a long weekend and think “actually, I want to be there too” and fly back again?
Completely unhinged.
Still yes.
I don’t have to cram life into annual leave.
I don’t have to ration trips.
I don’t have to choose between seeing family, travelling, or resting.
I can do all of it – slowly, properly, and without that constant “I should be back at work” feeling hanging over me.
Some months I travel loads.
Some months I barely leave the house.
Some months I do both.
People ask if I get bored being alone for weeks.
I don’t.
Onboard, I’m constantly around people – shared cabin, bunk bed, every meal together, zero personal space.
Being alone at home feels like luxury.
And honestly? That level of freedom is addictive.
The Hard Bits of Rotation (Because It’s Not All Vibes)
Rotation life is amazing, genuinely.
But it’s also hard, in other ways than just long hours. Here’s why…
1. Privacy does not exist
Sometimes you just want to poo in peace.
Instead, your cabin mate walks in or someone radios you asking, “can I find you somewhere?”

2. Yachting friendships are complicated
Friendships in yachting are intensified x100000.
You live together, work insane hours together, share cabins, eat every meal together, go through stressful situations together – your crew genuinely become your family. You swear you’ll always stay in touch, always meet up, be best friends forever and ever and ever.
And then you leave the boat.
And a lot of the time, you’ll never actually see each other again.
Not because anything bad happened – just because life, rotations, different boats, different countries, different schedules.
Some friendships last years. Some burn very bright and then disappear completely.
All of my closest friends are yacht crew, which also means our schedules rarely line up. My best friend and I met in 2014, and since then, we’ve had periods where we’ve not seen eachother for 3-4 years (horrendous, I know, but also #yachtlife lol).
We’ve recently vowed to do at least one holiday a year together and protect it like it’s sacred.
Anyway – friendships are intense, beautiful, and a little bit brutal – all at the same time.
3. Friends at home move on
Kids.
Marriages.
Routines.
Catch-ups turn into quick coffees. It can sometimes be really hard to relate to people back home because our lives look so incredibly different. Neither is better or worse, just different.
4. Romantic relationships are hard
Some couples get to work on the same boat together, but a lot don’t, which means long distance. For me, two months apart is manageable. But four, five, six months apart, then a week together, then goodbye again – SO much harder.
A lot of relationships don’t survive, as people drift apart, but ofcourse, there are those absolutely solid couples who make it work, which is always so refreshing to see!
5. You miss out on a lot at home
Birthdays. Christmases. Weddings.
You miss a lot, as this industry doesn’t just let you fly home whenever you have an important date.
But you do gain something most people don’t.
Time.
The Nosy Questions Everyone Asks

#1. Is it good money?
Yes. It is.
I wouldn’t work this hard, live at work, sleep in a bunk bed, and miss half of normal life if it wasn’t. The pay reflects the hours, responsibility, and intensity – and the fact that your life is very much not a standard 9–5.
#2. Do you get paid the whole time?
Yes. Work eight weeks, get paid for eight weeks off.
#3. Do you live onboard?
Yes. The boat is home during your rotation.
#4. Do you get flights?
Yes. Economy is standard.
Some Heads of Department get Business class. I’m still ✨manifesting✨ my business era.
#5. Are you allowed home?
During leave, yes. Outside of that, sometimes – but only if the programme allows.
#6. Don’t you get seasick?
Not often.
This year I worked around seven months and was properly seasick for maybe five days.
When it does happen though?
Think your worst hangover – now imagine being stuck inside a metal tin that won’t stop moving, and you can’t escape from.
That’s seasickness.
So… Is Rotation Life Worth It?
For me? 1000000%.
I value freedom more than almost anything – and the time off is unreal. But I also love routine. I ‘ve just had to adapt to two of them.
When I’m onboard, I wake up at least two hours before work. Coffee. Getting ready slowly. Write my blog. Read. Work out.
That little pocket of calm keeps me sane, even if the rest of the day goes off the rails.
Because of that, I can go all in at work. I work hard and give it everything – because I know I’m only there for eight-ish weeks.
Then my leave starts, and I switch into my other routine.
Not work hard, play hard.
More like work hard, rest hard.
Some people would absolutely hate this life.
But for me? It works.
And I absolutely love it.
If reading this has made you seriously consider working on superyachts, how you present yourself at the start really matters. I’ve put together a Superyacht CV Guide + editable Canva CV templates that help you explain your experience clearly and professionally, without sounding generic or overdone.
How does this lifestyle sound to you? Do you think you’d enjoy it? Let me know in the comments!
If you’re curious how to get into yachting, you’ll love this post So you want to work on a superyacht. Or for everything else yachting, check these posts out. Or if you want to laugh out loud, check out the Delulu Diaries.
