I'm asked this question more than any other, usually by someone who has just watched a documentary about the Mediterranean season and decided this is the life for them. I never discourage anyone. Superyachting has given me a career, friendships, and a view of the world that I would not trade. But I do tell them the truth: the industry is small, the standards are high, and the people who succeed are not the ones with the most polished CVs. They are the ones who understand what they are walking into.
If you are serious about landing your first role, start with the right paperwork. An STCW Basic Safety Training certificate and an ENG1 medical are non-negotiable. Without them, no reputable captain will even read your application. Beyond that, a Powerboat Level 2 and a Food & Hygiene Level 2 will move you ahead of half the dock walkers in Antibes. These courses are not expensive in the context of a career — treat them as the cost of entry, not a hurdle.
Your CV matters less than you think. What matters is the photo at the top, your visa status, and whether you can be reached on WhatsApp inside of ten minutes. I have placed crew who were hired in the time it took to walk from the marina office to the passerelle. I have also watched beautifully designed CVs sit in inboxes for weeks because the candidate listed a landline.
The harder truth is that the industry rewards a particular temperament. You will share a cabin the size of a wardrobe with a stranger. You will iron the same shirt three times in a row because the principal changed his mind. You will work fourteen-hour days through charter season and then be expected to smile while serving canapés you cannot eat. The crew who last in this business are not necessarily the most talented. They are the most adaptable, the most discreet, and the most genuinely interested in the work.
When you do walk the docks — and you should, no matter what anyone says about applying online — present yourself the way you would expect a stew to present herself on day one. Pressed shorts, polo, clean trainers, no perfume, no sunglasses on your head. Hand over a single-page CV with a passport photo, smile, ask if you can help with day work, and leave. Do not linger. Do not pitch. The captain or chief stew will remember the person who was useful for an afternoon long after they have forgotten the one who talked about their dreams for fifteen minutes.
Finally, work with a reputable agency. A good crew agent does not just submit your CV — they coach you through interviews, advise you on which boats run a tight programme, and tell you honestly when you are not yet ready for a role. The agencies who place at the top of this industry are not always the loudest. They are the ones who have been doing it long enough to know that one bad placement costs them three good ones.
Start with the certificates. Walk the docks. Be useful. The rest follows.