Sam van Putten & Vrindavan Spirit 72 Yacht | A Captain’s Ocean Adventure

Every so often, a sailor’s story reads like a film script. In Sam van Putten’s case, it also is one, after all, James Bond once took the wheel of his yacht. From a restless Dutch teenager to a solo captain mastering a 72-foot Spirit yacht, Sam’s journey has been equal parts daring, determination and the occasional naked rugby team! This is the tale of a man who swapped the sports fields of the Netherlands for the world’s oceans and never looked back.

Sam van Putten, 33, was born in the Netherlands but found his compass pointing far beyond home. Today, he’s the captain of Vrindavan, a Spirit 72 wooden maxi yacht so beautiful she once starred alongside Daniel Craig in Casino Royale. “Even her name is cool,” Sam grins. “Vrindavan means ‘God’s sacred place.’ It’s the name of the place in India where Hare Krishna was from.”

But his route to the helm was anything but straightforward. Straight out of high school, Sam enrolled in a four-year CIOS Sports course in a small northern village. On paper, it sounded ideal, qualifications in sports instruction, from diving to sailing to snowboarding. In practice, the location didn’t fit. “I realised quickly I didn’t want to spend four years there,” he admits. “I wanted the certifications but on my own terms.” While he enjoyed the course activities, the thought of four years in that little village wasn’t for him. After just a year, he walked away, determined to gain those qualifications in his own way.

His next move came courtesy of Google. Typing “sailing abroad” led him to a Skipper Academy in Croatia. Within weeks, he was on a one-way flight, 21 years old, confident and unafraid to grab the wheel literally, “When the instructor asked, “Who wants to be Captain of the day?” my hand was always first up.” He studied hard, learned fast, passed and suddenly found himself with a skipper’s ticket and the burning question, what next?

The answer was The Yacht Week, a flotilla-fueled baptism of fire. Picture fifty to a hundred small yachts, hopping from port to port, each stop a party. The energy was relentless. “It was great fun but full-on. The longest stretch I did was seven weeks without a break. It nearly killed me, but I loved it!” That role demanded quick thinking, endless stamina and the ability to manage groups of strangers who had mostly come for the same thing, a week-long floating festival. “It was a twenty-something skipper’s dream but after a while I wanted more than just parties. I wanted to really sail.” So, Sam swapped the flotilla lifestyle for private family charters, trading in neon-lit marinas for quieter anchorages and deeper connections with guests.

Sam prides himself on being able to sail any vessel, “Just show me the on switch” but admits Vrindavan holds a special place in his heart. Single-handedly running the yacht, he’s learned every quirk and curve on the job. “Although it’s hard work at times, I absolutely love her.” 

The freedom sailing offers is something Sam struggles to put into words. “Living in the moment, surrounded by the beauty of the ocean…but it’s more than that. I love entertaining people and creating a space where they can completely relax, forget about land life stress and just enjoy the moment. A holiday you’ll never forget, that’s what I aim for.”

That beauty has its wild side. Sam recalls a three-month unpaid Atlantic crossing on a 34-foot Sunbeam. Grenada to the Netherlands, via Martinique, St Maarten, Bermuda and the Azores where danger was a frequent guest. Diesel filter failures meant running the engine from a jerry can, the main sail ripped, sometimes the boat leaked like a tap and everything was intensified by the boat’s small size. “When something broke, it felt bigger because there was nowhere to escape it.”

Then there was the encounter with a killer whale. “It came right up next to us while we were fixing the autopilot. One eye, watching our every move. On re-starting the engine, it swam away but when we turned the autopilot back on, it silently came back alongside. We stayed calm even though we may have needed a bigger boat! It was so surreal! This massive creature following us felt both terrifying and amazing at the same time!”

The most hair-raising stretch was Bermuda to the Azores, 20 days non-stop with nothing but ocean in every direction. “We were in survival mode but the sunrises were incredible out there…watching the black night sky shift to grey, then yellow to blazing orange was our reminder, hell yeah, we made it through another night.”

That trip also marked his 24th birthday and Sam celebrated with a quick (very quick) dip! “I’ve never swam back to a boat so fast in my life! The ocean feels different when you’re a thousand miles from land. It’s beautiful but you never forget how small you are.”

Of course, the job isn’t all sunsets and spray. Loneliness is the hardest part, weeks without seeing his girlfriend, family or friends. Running solo means Sam is also his own engineer and cleaner. “Oddly enough, I find polishing all the varnish very therapeutic,” he laughs. “It’s the kind of job you can do with music on, the sea in the background and your thoughts just drifting.”

To keep sane on owner and charter trips, Sam taps into his boundless energy. “Wind Foiling is my latest obsession. And swimming, nothing beats jumping in the water after eight straight hours of sailing.” Sometimes, even a garbage run to shore can have its perks. “A cheeky mojito works wonders.”

When guests arrive, his approach is simple, never save the best for last. “I always blow their minds on the first day. After that, everyone trusts you.” He scouts hidden coves and beauty spots, anticipates needs before they’re spoken and makes it his mission to give guests a holiday they’ll never forget. “It’s not about overcomplicating things it’s about paying attention. People relax faster when they feel seen.”

That doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing. Sam’s pet hate? Guests with unrealistic plans. “Once, a group insisted on visiting an island despite bad weather and wrong winds. They came back seasick and miserable. Was it my fault for letting them go? Or just stubbornness? You can’t please everyone all the time.”

Then there are the hilarious moments you just can’t plan for, like his very first charter, with seven Welsh rugby players on a too-small boat. His toilet-saving policy was clear: S.O.S. (“Shit On Shore”). They took it to heart… perhaps too literally. 

“Every morning, they’d hang naked off a line behind the boat to do their business. Effective? Mostly. But two of three toilets still clogged by the end of the week.”

Over the years, Sam has sailed much of Croatia, Greece and Turkey, waters he knows so well he sometimes jokes he’s more local than the locals. He loves exploring the southern islands of Split and finding anchorages where the water is so clear you can see the anchor settle on the seabed. But his bucket list still stretches far, French Polynesia, Bora Bora, the Galapagos and remote Indonesian islands. “I want to see raw nature, jungles, volcanic islands and places untouched by humans. I’ve dreamed of the Galapagos since I was a kid.”

His proudest achievement remains that first Atlantic crossing. It even impressed his Yachtmaster examiner enough to suggest handing over the certificate on the spot. “I passed the old-fashioned way but skipped straight to Offshore, no Day Skipper or Coastal.” He’s equally proud of mastering Vrindavan solo for over two years, learning her systems inside-out and knowing that, come what may, he can handle her.

Sam’s advice to anyone considering yachting is refreshingly direct, “Do it. The world is huge and beautiful. Explore it from a yacht while working. Appreciate how lucky you are, don’t complain too much and always trust your instincts more than the Windy app.”

If he could speak to his 20-year-old self, he’d say start aiming higher, sooner. “I stayed in the Croatian charter scene too long. I should’ve pushed for bigger yachts earlier. I was qualified but having too much fun.”

The future, for Sam, will always involve the ocean. Winters are spent sharpening his skills with new courses, summers, exploring fresh regions with fresh boats. He talks about possibly venturing into high latitude sailing or taking on new builds where he can be part of the process from keel up. “There’s still so much to learn. The ocean doesn’t run out of lessons.”

Finally, Sam adds that the beautiful Vrindavan is for sale, so please get in contact with him if anyone is interested. Vrindavan’s owner hopes to charter her next year. 

Sam van Putten’s story is a reminder that the ocean rewards those who are willing to leap without knowing exactly where they’ll land. From Croatia’s party flotillas to the lonely vastness of the Atlantic, he’s built a career on instinct, skill and a refusal to stand still. And if you ever find yourself on Vrindavan, you’ll quickly discover why his guests trust him from day one! Just don’t ask about the Welsh rugby team! 

Contact Sam: +31 6 46522802‬ – vrindavansailingyacht@gmail.com

‬