Charter captains are diplomats with tide tables. They will rarely tell you what they are thinking while you are aboard, which is why we sat one down on a dock in Coconut Grove on a Tuesday with no charter and asked him to say it out loud. Andre has run boats out of Miami for twenty two years, including the Bimini crossing more times than he can count.
What follows is lightly trimmed. The pattern in his answers is worth noticing: nearly everything a captain wishes you knew makes the guest's day better, not the crew's.
What is the single most useful thing a guest can say before boarding?
What the day is actually for. Not the itinerary, the reason. A proposal, a client you need to impress, a kid who gets seasick, a grandmother who needs a handrail. I build a completely different day around each of those. The paper itinerary is a draft. Your truth is the final edit, and I would much rather have it at the dock than discover it at the sandbar.
You moved a guest's date last week because of weather. How did that go?
Badly for about four minutes and then very well. People hear a weather call as caution. It is the opposite. A protected leeward anchorage on a windy day beats the famous sandbar in a chop every single time, and I would rather disappoint you at breakfast than at sea. The guests who trust the call get the best day of the week. The ones who fight it get the day they asked for, which is worse.
What happens in the first fifteen minutes that shapes the rest of the charter?
Whether people arrive on time, listen to the briefing like it matters, and introduce everyone by name. Crews mirror what they receive. A group that treats the boat like a home gets hosted like family, and a group that treats it like a rental gets a very correct, very polite rental. The difference is not something we decide. It is something we answer.
Is there a question guests ask that makes you wince?
Can we go faster. Almost never, and not because the boat cannot. Fuel burn doubles, the ride gets harder on the people at the back, and the whole point of the day is the day. The other one is asking for the sandbar on a Saturday in May with a group that wants quiet. I will take you, but I will suggest Elliott Key first, and I am usually right.
What do the best guests bring aboard?
A preference sheet they actually filled in, soft-soled shoes, sunscreen that will not stain the teak, and a willingness to do progressively less. The very best bring nothing but the sheet. We have had people arrive with coolers, speakers and a folding table. Everything they brought was already on the boat, and better.
How do you feel about the swim stop?
It is the most important half hour of the day and the one people most often try to skip because they are dressed. A group that has been in the water together is a different group. Nerves go away, the kids stop performing, the deal gets easier. I have watched a boardroom turn into a family at Nixon Sandbar in twenty minutes. Get wet early.
What do guests get wrong about the crew?
They think we want to be left alone. We want to be told things. If the music is wrong, say so. If someone is cold, we have blankets. If the birthday girl hates surprises, tell us before the cake is lit. We are very good at reading a deck, but we are not mind readers, and the guest who talks to us gets a better day than the one who is being polite.
Is the tip the thing that matters at the end?
It matters less than people think, and the thank you by name at the passerelle matters more than they know. A crew remembers who learned their names. Those are the guests we ask the office about when a good boat comes free on a holiday weekend, and there is no line item for that.
What would you tell someone booking their first charter?
Four hours is the honest minimum and eight is where it gets good. Book a weekday if you can. Tell the crew the truth about the group. And then stop planning, because a plan is the one thing we have plenty of. What we cannot supply is your reasons, and those are the whole day.
Andre went back to washing down the boat after that. The dock was quiet, the bay was flat, and it was, as he pointed out, a Tuesday.
If you would like to meet a crew like his, explore the fleet and tell them what the day is for.
Tatiana MendesLuxco Editorial Team