At sea with UAE female boat captain Patricia Caswell: 'Have confidence in everything you do'

“Good morning, Captain.” The greeting hails Captain Patricia Caswell as she walks through the brand new $100 million, 780-tonne, 175-foot long Gulf Craft Majesty superyacht languishing in the waters of the Arabian Gulf off Umm Al Quwain.

It’s a boat she’ll soon be taking right out to check, pushing it to its very limits before the owner takes possession, and with this thought, the engineers, carpenters, electricians, plumbers and cleaners quickly make contact with work as she passes through.

The marble-inlaid bathrooms, cool, modern cabins and coffee-coloured corridors are gleaming new as she heads past million-dollar details like the glass lift and the on-deck pool towards the bridge. Here, a bank of monitors, gauges and controls stretching the breadth of the sleek black console, quietly beep and flash under her watchful gaze.

To an outsider, it all looks slightly more difficult compared to the deck of the Starship Enterprise crossed with that of today's nuclear submarine. But also for Caswell, whose been on boats since she was 17, it’s her equivalent of opening a notebook computer and checking her email.

“Captain” is a greeting the 42-year-old Australian has been hearing for 21 years now, since she became qualified to utilize the title at 21. An age she admits is tender, not only for the industry as a whole, but also for a woman in a male-dominated field.

“Twenty-one is young to become a captain, and in the past there were only two other females who had done it before me in Australia,” she says. “They were my idols. One went to Antarctica, the other went to superyachts, and I was like: ‘These chicks are perfect. That is cool, I need to be involved in this’.”

Growing up in Brisbane, Queensland on Australia’s west coast, by her own admission Caswell was a “determined teenager”. Person who left home at 16, got her own place and a job at a bank straight out of senior high school, already exhibiting the kind of independence and self-reliance that could befit a woman about to go on a life at sea.

An invitation when she was 17 from her mother to go to her in the Whitsunday Islands in the heart of the Great Barrier Reef where she owned a travel company, proved the hook that set her on her behalf path.

“My mum sent me out sailing for your day upon this 80-foot yacht and I was like, that is awesome,” she recalls. “I never returned to Brisbane. I had someone finish off my bags and send them to me.”

Her first job wasn’t all plain sailing.

“I started on a catamaran as a stewardess. I got seasick my initial day plus they gave me the nickname ‘Chucky’,” she laughs. “It had been horrible. I went back the very next day and the captain said: ‘Really? You would like to have another go as of this?’ And I was like: ‘Yeah, let’s have another go’, and I stayed.

“As a stewardess, you’re serving drinks, making sandwiches and looking after guests, but I only lasted a few months because I wanted to be on deck, I wanted to be sailing with the boys, so I started understanding how to sail.”

Sailing around Australia and New Zealand in her early twenties sounds like the stuff inspirational Instagram accounts, which of course didn’t exist then, are constructed of.

Trips out to watch the America’s Cup, diving in Cairns and sailing around the superior waters of Papua New Guinea were all in a day’s work for Caswell, who, after a stint doing work for a New Zealand family, finally saved up enough money to go where she had always intended to head: Europe.

Once you get yourself a taste of it, you know there’s a large world and you intend to see it. I also wished to move onto superyachts

“I wanted to travel and I had always wanted to visit Europe,” she says. “Once you get yourself a taste of it, you understand there’s a huge world and you want to see it. I also wished to move onto superyachts.”

Caswell, who had to convert her Australian credentials to the UK’s Maritime Coastguard Agency (MCA) licences, returned to school, this time to a maritime college or university in Southampton, in which a phone call from a vintage friend from proved a game changer.

“She called me and said: ‘Where are you?’ I said: ‘I’m in England.’ And she said: ‘We desire a first mate, are you available?’” Caswell says. “I flew south of France to meet up the manager of the boat and when I flew back again to the UK, I thought to my friends: ‘Funny story, I got a job and I’m likely to the Caribbean tomorrow.’”

Of the post she took of first mate on the 300-tonne, 36-metre boat, Caswell says: “That’s how I were able to save up to return to school to accomplish the principle mate, so I could possibly be second responsible for larger vessels.”

Back beyond the 19th-century, women on boats were thought to bring misfortune for a range of superstitious reasons, from angering the ocean gods to distracting the sailors. Conversely, their wood-carved, often bare-chested occurrence as figureheads at the bow was thought to calm the ocean. And the perceived bad luck of women onboard didn’t stop sailors from naming their boats after females or discussing their vessels as “she”.

I won’t have bananas onboard. If guests arrive with bananas at hand, I make them eat them on the deck before they come aboard

On her behalf own part Caswell can be an adherent to the age-old superstition of not allowing bananas aboard her boats, a ritual that dates back beyond the 1700s and the belief that at the height of the trading empire between Spain and the Caribbean, nearly all ships that disappeared have been carrying cargos of bananas.

“I won’t have bananas onboard,” she says. “If guests arrive with bananas at hand, I make sure they are eat them on the deck before they come aboard.”

These days, the existence of women on boats keeps growing. A large proportion are in roles such as for example stewardesses and deckie's, although the numbers becoming first mates and captains is increasing. Caswell’s qualification of Master 3000, means she can command a craft as high as 3,000 tonnes.

“I qualified just as I turned 30,” she says. “That was my goal, I wanted to have my Master 3000 by the time I was 30 and I got it in the February after my birthday in December.

“Females only constitute something like 2 per cent of captains for superyachts globally,” she adds. “When I first qualified, there were only a dozen roughly within my level. Of course, it’s grown now and there are many females coming through, but it’s still a tiny per centage. It’s coming nonetheless it takes time.”

‘Whatever guests want, you find’

Capri, St Tropez, Antibes. The mere reference to one of the most glamorous places on earth conjures up images of sun, luxury and money, a good amount of it. But also for Caswell, these destinations are generally about reverse parking a 60-metre superyacht with just metres to spare on either side while trying in order to avoid other floating palaces.

“The Mediterranean could be intense in high season,” she says of the celebrity summer destination of preference. “There’ll be lots of individuals on the dock milling around taking photos, attempting to see whose boat it really is. And when you have high-profile guests onboard then you’ll have the paparazzi there too, all while your team is on the microphone in your ear, saying: ‘Two metres this side, one metre that side’.”

Captains are also not simply captains, they also undertake the role of uber-concierges.

“Over the years you can know the very best chauffeurs, marinas, and hotels," she says. "If guests want privacy or if they would like to be spotted by the paparazzi, whatever they want you need to be able to arrange these things.”