Between Watches: How Crew Spend an Atlantic Crossing

One crew took covers up to the sun deck at night and listened to War of the Worlds. Afterwards, as one of them put it, they “just lay there floating in space for a while”.

It was one of the memories shared in Yachtee’s Atlantic crossing survey. Others involved a fiercely competitive game between the engine room and deck crew, a harmonica at sunset, and a birthday surprise waiting in the crew mess after a midnight watch.

Then there was the answer that needed only three words: “sleep sleep sleep”.

We asked about life between watches: the activities, traditions and small moments that fill a passage. Alongside their activity choices, 84% of respondents shared a written answer. Together, they describe crossings with very different amounts of free time, and plenty of different ideas about how to spend it.

The ocean was the most popular answer

Watching the ocean and sky was the most selected activity, appearing in 68% of responses. Exercise followed at 60%, films and series at 57%, and catching up on sleep at 51%. Respondents could choose several activities.

The written answers gave those selections detail: dolphins, sunsets, shooting stars, fishing, and time spent looking out at the horizon.

Karin Harvey remembered staying outside long after dark:

“One thing I’ll always remember is sitting out on deck until two in the morning, listening to music and watching the sky for shooting stars.”

Someone else recalled playing a harmonica in the cockpit at sunset. Another described taking photographs and videos of the ocean before joining the crew outside for dinner. The person who remembered War of the Worlds on the sun deck captured a similar pleasure: having time to stay outside and listen together.

These were small, specific memories. For the people who shared them, watching the passage unfold was an activity in its own right.

Games that last longer than an evening

Games and competitions were selected in 37% of responses, with written answers ranging from card games in the crew mess to organised trivia nights.

Poker, Shithead and Sitaratas were all named in the answers. One crew played Shithead in the crew mess every day. Another described after-dinner games of Sitaratas on their phones, comparing it to Oh Hell. By breakfast, someone in that crew was usually asking for a rematch.

One anonymous contributor summed up their own crew’s card-game routine simply:

“We always play poker and we have fun.”

One crew played Call of Duty in two teams: engine room versus deck. The respondent remembered calm seas and a very competitive contest. Another crew sent baby photographs to the captain, then tried to work out who was who.

Several contributors described versions of a game they called “killers”, “the murder game” or “kill the crew”. Their accounts involved assigned people, objects and places, or getting another player to hold a particular object. The game could continue through the crossing, giving people something to talk about beyond a single evening’s entertainment.

There were movie nights in the skylounge, karaoke sessions and quiz nights too.

The arrangements varied, but the shared activity gave those crews a reason to get together when their schedules allowed it.

Exercise, books and projects of your own

Selected in 60% of responses, exercise was the second most popular category. Some crews found ways to connect their workouts to the journey itself.

One respondent described a challenge of one push-up per nautical mile for the duration of the crossing. Others mentioned squats and crunches tied to distance travelled. Another crew added up the miles completed on a rowing machine for their own race across the Atlantic.

For one contributor, the goal was personal: fitting in training for a future triathlon. Others mentioned yoga, gym sessions and exercise before or after their shifts. These are accounts of what individual crews did, with the space, conditions and time available to them.

Quieter projects had a place too. Books and podcasts were selected in 32% of responses, and music and creative hobbies in 28%. The written answers included studying Spanish, taking courses, baking for the crew and reading Shantaram.

One contributor described filling a journal with thoughts about a life divided between home and the sea:

“Between watches, I wrote.”

— Garry, Between Two Seas

The account recalled coffee before dawn, a notebook balanced on a knee, and pages written beneath a sky full of stars and satellites.

Finding time for each other

Hanging out with crew was selected in 41% of responses. The stories behind it often centred on meals, conversations and finding a moment when people were free together.

Mike Bowen recalled evening gatherings that were among the few times the whole crew sat together. On some smaller boats, crew took turns cooking lunch and dinner, and the cooking became competitive. He also used crossings to practise rope work, including splicing and knots.

A respondent with one crossing behind them particularly valued conversations across departments:

“For me it was really great to bond with the crew when there was nothing else to do but chat.”

They explained that the crossing gave them more time with people they would not usually get to speak to as often.

One of the most memorable accounts began with a slightly suspicious handover. Finishing a watch at midnight, a crew member was told that the second officer had heard strange sounds in the crew mess. They went to investigate and found a surprise party: it was their birthday.

Traditions also drew mixed reactions. One contributor described a Neptune ceremony on a passage that crossed the equator. Another remembered being given a necklace made from dead flying fish during a first Atlantic crossing ceremony. Their verdict was one word: “Awful”.

A crew tradition can be memorable for very different reasons.

Sometimes there was very little downtime

Some responses described long working days, seasickness or a strong preference for being left to rest.

One person who had completed a single crossing listed rinsing, washing, polishing stainless steel and scrubbing teak, then wrote:

“There was no down time. Work and sleep.”

Another, writing about interior work, questioned how other crews seemed to get so much time to relax. Their crossings still involved long, normal working hours.

There was loneliness too. One respondent had hoped for board games and movie nights but found that everybody kept to themselves. They described that as mentally difficult, and spent their time watching films and sleeping. Another said the crew dynamic made the crossing less enjoyable.

These accounts give the sleep result more context. Catching up on sleep was selected in 51% of responses, but the checkbox alone cannot tell us whether someone was enjoying a chance to recover, exhausted from work or feeling seasick. All three experiences appear in the written answers.

An article about crossing activities needs room for the people whose answer is that they had little time or energy for any.

Settling into the rhythm

One contributor who reported at least 20 crossings described the first few days as strange every time. The distance ahead felt enormous. Gradually, watches, exercise, food and rest became a routine, until preparations for arrival brought a different pace again.

Mike Bowen offered another perspective. He recalled telling his crews that a boring crossing meant he had done his job, because nothing had gone wrong.

The memories people sent us were often very precise: a crew member with a harmonica, a game between departments, a birthday at midnight. Alongside them were quieter answers about reading, sleeping and watching the sea.

Thank you to everyone who shared a part of their crossing with us—including the stories about how difficult it could be. They give a fuller picture of the days between departure and arrival.

Cover and article photography courtesy of Bruno Piper.