At a recent industry conference, a billionaire yacht owner shared frustrations about the performance of his captains. “Some don’t handle the boat the way I would,” he complained. Others, he noted, “seem timid in rough seas.”

It was a telling moment — not because of what it revealed about the captains, but because of what it said about the owner. Here was someone who had built an empire, likely by taking calculated, often bold, risks. He assumed that kind of decision-making could translate seamlessly to the helm of a 200-foot yacht. But yachts aren’t spreadsheets. And the sea doesn’t care about balance sheets.

• Most superyacht captains didn’t arrive at the bridge by accident.
• They grew up in the business, drawn first by the adventure, then by a realization that their skills and judgment could sustain a career.
• They know what the sea can do. They’ve seen gear fail, crew falter, and seemingly minor calls become catastrophic.

The boat, they’ll tell you, can take more punishment than the crew ever could.

I’ve felt this firsthand. I commanded two Navy ships — a privilege that came only after years of learning and practical training. Part of that preparation was service on four other ships with increasing responsibility and completion of countless underway evolutions in every kind of operational condition.

In recreational boating, I went further than most, pursuing a U.S. Coast Guard offshore master’s license to improve my skills and judgment in that distinct environment. Not because I lack confidence — but because I understand what risk really looks like when things go sideways. It’s not bravado that gets you home. It’s discipline. And discretion.

Which brings me to a broader point, one underscored in The Genius Myth, a book I’m reading now. We tend to confuse brilliance in one domain with universal mastery. It’s an intoxicating illusion — to think that success in business, politics, or investing somehow grants us instinctive superiority elsewhere. We love narratives that reward perseverance, hard work, bootstrapping and overcoming…but they are more often a myth that helps us organize and summarize a person’s success.

Real mastery is context-specific.

That same lesson applies in my advisory work with federal-facing companies. I’m not an acquisition expert, and I don’t pretend to be. You read that correctly. There’s a whole cottage industry of former contracting officers and program managers who can decode those contracting nuances better than I can. But like a seasoned captain, I help clients see the bigger picture.

A helmsman may react to the individual waves, but the captain sets and approves the course given the anticipated conditions. I focus on positioning: making sure a company knows how to read the federal sea state before deciding how fast to go or which port to chase. It’s not about reacting to every wave — it’s about knowing how the entire system works together and anticipating the right time to move.

And then there’s accountability — the part many owners forget. This particular yacht owner had clearly churned through a few captains, despite being relatively new to the world of very large yachts. In his mind, firing someone who doesn’t match his risk profile is easy.

But accountability doesn’t shift with the paycheck. When something goes wrong at sea, it’s not the owner who answers for it — it’s the captain.

• If a guest slips and is injured
• If a crew member is hurt during operations
• If a piece of critical equipment fails underway
• If the vessel pushes through marginal weather and something goes wrong

The responsibility lands squarely on the captain.

Maritime law is crystal clear on this point: the captain is accountable for the safety of the vessel and everyone aboard. Insurance companies understand this reality — which is why they direct questions and scrutiny to the captain, not the owner. That risk calculation — subjective though it may be — lives with the one on the bridge.

Business is no different.

• Ownership is not the same as leadership
• Decision authority doesn’t (or shouldn’t) always rest with the person who signed the check
• And when the wind picks up or visibility drops, it’s not courage that matters — it’s judgment, experience, and accountability.

How many geniuses are in your circles? Or are you the genius?