From Olympic campaigns to two America’s Cups and a world championship title, Captain Nik Pearson has lived the high-adrenaline life of a professional sailor. These days you’ll find him at the helm of SY Unplugged, where he’s swapped start-line chaos for creating dream holidays. But the competitive fire hasn’t gone anywhere – it just looks a little different when you’re fighting for the best anchorage in the Med.
What’s your background before yachting?
Dinghy racing and professional yacht racing. I was involved with Olympic programmes, Admirals Cups, 2 Americas Cups as a sailor and winning the Etchells World Championships amongst other things.
What’s the most nail-biting moment you had in professional racing? Any close calls or “squeaky bumhole” stories?
Where to begin! Every day on an America’s Cup boat is nerve-shredding. I was a bowman, stood right up front where the cameras always seemed to find me – not ideal when you’re trying to sneak a nervous pre-race pee behind the sails, only to gybe and be met by a wall of press boats!
I’ve been T-boned badly – we almost sank a Swan 90 called Kora – but perhaps the scariest was a race finish in Trapani. We were charging downwind in 30 knots with barely a mile between the finish line and the cliffs. The spinnaker had to come down fast, but the gear wasn’t holding. Long story short, I was out on the end of the pole when the boat turned, and I swung like a pendulum – one way until I smashed against the rig, then back the other way until another line stopped me dead. For a few seconds I was literally dangling over the sea like a rag doll until the guys could crank me back to safety. I was not impressed after that one.
Who were the biggest characters you sailed with during the America’s Cup campaigns? Any tales fit for print?
There are the legends – Neil MacDonald, Santiago Lange, Jules Salter – people whose presence fills a boat. And then there are the natural motivators like Stirfry or Freddie Carr, guys who could lift you even after weeks of wet, freezing training. They have an ability to fire you up and that is a talent few have. I’ve never understood why the ’leader’ of a race boat is automatically the helm. For me, it’s the person everyone listens to because they want to, not because they have to.
When and how did you join the yachting industry?
After the 2007 America’s Cup I was burnt out by the politics of racing. An owner I’d raced with before asked me to captain a new 24m sailing yacht, cruising the world’s best diving and climbing spots. It was a dream gig. Sadly the 2008 financial crash killed the project a couple of years in, but by then I’d crossed to the so-called “dark side” for good.
Any achievements or special moments stick out?
I shifted my goals from winning for my country to creating the best holidays for guests. Things like securing the perfect anchorage, timing it so we pass through the Corinth Canal with the sun setting ahead, or quietly diverting around a storm so the guests never know it was there. Every day has a competitive edge – and I like to nail it.
What’s the best thing about your job now?
It’s the people. Making a guest cry happy tears after the perfect week. Watching a nervous junior stew blossom into a confident pro. Seeing a crew member help a child swim in deep water for the first time. Turning those into little “wins” is what makes the job rewarding.
What’s harder – keeping a racing crew focused at the start line, or keeping charter guests happy when the itinerary changes?
Charter guests, no question. Race teams are easy – everyone wants to win. Most guests are fantastic too, but once in a while you get a boatload of alphas who all try to dictate the itinerary individually. Then you’re stuck juggling half a dozen versions of “what we’re doing today.” I’ve learned to gather them as a group and put decisions to the collective before they can wear me down one-by-one. But even then, it’s exhausting.
Do you miss the adrenaline of racing, or do you get the same buzz running a yacht?
Racing is a drug, and yes, I miss it every day. But I’ve channelled that competitiveness into cruising. I have to get the best anchor spot, even if it means moving the boat a few lengths. I push the crew to be the fastest at launching toys or tidying up after docking. It might look calm from the outside, but inside I’m still racing. I can’t live without being competitive.
What’s a lesson from your racing career that still shapes how you run a yacht today?
Look after the little people. In Cup teams, the shore crew and cleaners often ended up with whatever kit was left – sizes wrong, no choice, just “get on with it.” I saw how demoralising that was. Now I make sure the lowest-ranked crew member gets looked after first – whether it’s time off, a perk, or just being the one I trust with errands. When they feel valued, the whole team works better.
And of course there’s the old coach Jim Saltonstall’s mantra: “Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance.” The seven P’s are gospel, even now.
What’s the strangest superstition or tradition you’ve seen on board?
I still throw money into the sea as an offering to Neptune when we leave port. Once I even had to throw in a note because there were no coins onboard.
Who throws the best parties – racing teams or yacht owners?
There is no party like an ‘oh f*** we’ve been knocked out party’ in the Americas Cup. You’ve just lost your job, your home, and your family of teammates in one day – devastating. But also, months of stress vanish instantly. You’re free of the pressure to make a slow boat fast, and suddenly you’ve got nothing to lose. The parties are wild – bittersweet but unforgettable.
You’ve worked with incredible owners – what makes a “great” owner in your eyes?
Decency. I was told early on: there are plenty of good boats, but not nearly as many good owners. I’ve been lucky. On Unplugged I’ve had the same owners for 12 years, and they’ve been respectful and grateful throughout. We’ve built up trust and loyalty over time, and that matters more than any new or bigger boat.
What would you like to do next?
Bigger boat with a decent size Captain’s cabin would be nice. Oh and a window! But I am very lucky. Jokes aside I have amazing owners and that’s worth more than any newer bigger boat so what I want to do next is keep my current job!
What advice would you give your younger self when you were green?
You can’t rush experience. Qualifications get you up the ladder fast, but experience helps you make the right calls once you’re there. Too many people chase a Master 3000 and can’t park a boat or read a sea breeze. Learn, watch, absorb – it all counts later.
What’s your dream yacht to work on?
An explorer style motoryacht going to amazing off the beaten track places or, a state of the art eco sailing cat that is constantly developing and pushing the limits for regenerating power or using solar energy.
What’s the most memorable guest request you’ve had?
One owner came back from Pacha in Ibiza and demanded we move the yacht to Mykonos while he slept, so he could party there the next day. He had a private jet sitting on the runway, but insisted the yacht had to make it – in eight hours. I told him it wasn’t possible, and he called me a liar. Let’s just say I didn’t hang around after that.
Who would you most love to have on board and why?
Scientists. I’ve lived next to or on the sea for all my life and to have someone teach you things as you go along would be great. Captains do a lot of teaching but don’t get taught often! It would be amazing to have a marine biologist or ocean scientist or meteorologist to chat with as and when we see something interesting. Oooh, or a master mariner. I love to hear about boat handling of big ships and compare notes.
Any final thoughts or pearls of wisdom?
Where to start! Maybe don’t take life for granted, live everyday as if it’s your last as you never know when that day will be but that’s another story!