Building a Maritime Career: Cruise Ships, Superyachts and New Zealand Ferries
- Yachting International Radio
- Aug 10
- 6 min read
Chief Officer Ashley Ogborne has built a maritime career across three distinct operating environments. He trained through a Carnival UK cadetship, spent five years aboard cruise ships, moved into professional yachting for five and a half years, and now works aboard ferries in New Zealand. Each transition changed far more than the type or size of vessel. It introduced a different operating rhythm, crew culture, recruitment system and relationship between life at sea and the future being built ashore.
His route is a useful reminder that maritime progression does not always follow a single track towards one command, one sector or one definition of success. Qualifications may transfer, but the lived experience of working aboard a cruise ship, a privately operated yacht and an inter-island ferry can be markedly different. The right position depends as much on personal priorities as professional ambition.
Leaving the Cruise Sector at the Worst Possible Time
Ogborne’s entry into the maritime world began while he was completing philanthropy work in Greece during his early twenties. A friend had secured a deck officer cadetship and encouraged him to consider the same route. Ogborne had been thinking about returning to the military, but the prospect of a career at sea offered another direction.
After applying to several companies, he secured sponsorship from Carnival UK. The cadetship provided structured training, sea time and a clear pathway towards becoming a qualified deck officer. Five years aboard cruise ships followed.
Cruise operations can provide exposure to complex passenger vessel procedures, large onboard departments and highly structured systems. Ogborne’s frustration came from the particular ship and schedule he eventually found himself working on. Its repetitive transatlantic programme involved relatively few port movements, leaving him concerned that he had reached a comfortable position before gaining the operational variety he wanted.
Yachting had already been part of his longer-term thinking. Friends who had crossed into the sector were earning considerably more, and the prospect of greater variety was difficult to ignore. In January 2020, Ogborne resigned and committed to making the move.
The timing was brutal. COVID began closing borders and suspending operations just as he entered an industry he did not yet understand.
Although already a qualified officer, Ogborne believed he needed to dock walk in search of work. Even the language created confusion. In the cruise sector, he understood “deckie” as a reference to a deck officer. In yachting, the same term commonly referred to a deckhand. He found himself discussing officer-level stability calculations with people looking for their first entry-level deck position.
It was a humorous mistake, but it exposed an important reality. Moving between maritime sectors requires more than presenting a certificate. Every part of the industry has its own language, expectations, hierarchy and recruitment culture. Professional experience remains valuable, but it must be translated into the environment being entered.
What Changes When an Officer Moves into Yachting
Ogborne’s first opportunity came aboard a 34-metre yacht that was itself effectively confined by lockdown. From there, he went on to spend five and a half years in professional yachting, discovering that the sector could not be understood as one uniform workplace.
Every yacht is shaped by its owner, guests, itinerary, management, captain and crew. Two vessels of a similar size can offer entirely different experiences. Salary and leave may look comparable on paper while the onboard culture, operational expectations and quality of life bear little resemblance to each other.
For Ogborne, the financial attraction was genuine. So were the social and professional rewards. On the right yacht, a small crew can develop the trust and familiarity of a family. He found this particularly evident aboard vessels below roughly 50 or 60 metres, where departments are less separated and daily operations can feel more flexible and personal.
That atmosphere can be one of yachting’s greatest strengths. It can also be connected to one of its most difficult compromises.
Smaller yachts are often less likely to offer rotation. Crew may enjoy good salaries, strong relationships and considerable responsibility, but spend long periods away without a predictable division between work and home. Larger yachts may be more likely to provide rotational structures, although increased scale can bring greater departmental separation and a more formal working environment.
The decision therefore extends beyond vessel size or monthly income. Crew building relationships, planning families or supporting responsibilities ashore must consider how much time the job allows them to be present.
Higher earnings can create security, but they cannot recover missed years. Rotation can provide time at home, but it does not guarantee a healthy onboard culture. A close crew can make months at sea enjoyable, while an attractive employment package can quickly lose its appeal on the wrong vessel.
There is no universal answer because there is no universal yacht job.
The Problem with Chasing the Unicorn Gig
Comparison is embedded in crew culture. Somebody always appears to have secured a better salary, a more generous rotation, a stronger itinerary or an owner who invests heavily in crew welfare.
Ogborne describes the result as a constant ladder. Reaching one milestone simply creates a new vantage point from which to see somebody else’s supposedly better position. The ideal role remains one move ahead, usually aboard another person’s yacht.
The industry often calls it the “unicorn gig,” a rare position combining excellent pay, substantial leave, a supportive owner, professional leadership, a strong crew and an appealing programme. Such jobs exist, but expecting every advantage to appear within a single role can make a good position feel inadequate.
Every vessel involves compromise. More money may mean less time. Rotation may come with a different salary. A prestigious yacht may offer progression while creating a more impersonal working environment. A smaller programme may provide loyalty and belonging without the leave structure needed for a sustainable family life.
The real challenge is deciding which compromises remain acceptable. Without that clarity, professional ambition can become a permanent state of dissatisfaction.
A Maritime Career Does Not Have to Follow a Straight Line
Ogborne’s move to New Zealand was not an escape from yachting. It was a deliberate decision shaped by the life he and his partner want to build.
During a previous visit, they bought a camper van and travelled through the country, considering where they might eventually settle and establish a business. Their long-term ambition is to buy land and create a small wellness retreat. To make that possible, Ogborne first needs residency and a suitable maritime position in New Zealand.
The available roles matching his qualifications and career expectations were limited. Inter-island ferry operations presented the clearest route, providing work aboard vessels carrying people and freight between New Zealand’s North and South Islands.
The opportunity developed through initiative rather than a straightforward application. During a ferry crossing, Ogborne secured a bridge tour and obtained contact details for members of the marine management team. He initially treated the idea as a distant possibility, but once the residency requirements became clear, he followed up.
The timing happened to align with recruitment for a single position. The company could not simply bypass local employment requirements, but the conversation created a route forward if Ogborne could secure the necessary visa and relocate.
It would be easy to describe the outcome as luck. Luck played a part, but so did asking for the bridge tour, building the contact and sending the email when the opportunity became relevant.
His present role aboard New Zealand ferries is neither a continuation of cruise work nor a retreat from superyachting. It is a separate operational environment serving a specific purpose within a wider life plan.
Ogborne has not ruled out returning to yachting. The right vessel, role and timing could still bring him back. That possibility does not diminish the value of the direction he has chosen now.
A maritime career can move between sectors without losing coherence. The certificate may open the door, but personal priorities determine which door is worth walking through. Cruise ships, superyachts and ferries each offer different versions of life at sea. The most successful choice is the one that still leaves room for the life waiting ashore.
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