Everything about your vessel. One place. Finally simple.
Offline-first. Built for the moment the signal dies. Works at anchor in the Abacos. Always.
theONE replaces a dozen apps, spreadsheets, and group texts with a single iOS app — telemetry (NMEA 2000 ready), crew, planning, playbooks, and maintenance. Captain-grade, for power vessels 40 feet and up.
The only marine app that reads your boat's own record
Foresight™ — memory, not magic.
Every marine app can tell you an oil change is due in forty hours. That is arithmetic. theONE is built to tell you the thing arithmetic cannot: this is starting to look like what went wrong last July.
Foresight™
Every observation, issue, incident and job you log is a node; every link between them is recorded. A chain that reached a conclusion gets that conclusion stamped on it — and when a new chain starts to match one, theONE says so.
Hours Watch
The arithmetic, done properly. Intervals due and overdue, burn-rate anomalies, and hour meters that have started to disagree with each other — plus a stale-log nudge you can switch on.
Departure Windows
Ranks the next 72 hours on four criteria — daylight, wind at or under 15 knots, no active marine alert at your position, and a favourable tide — so you know when to leave, not just what the weather is doing.
It matches the shape of what happened, not your wording — which is why a chain that began on the port main can raise a flag on the starboard one. And every warning carries its evidence on the face of it: the prior outcome it matched and when that chain ended — with the whole chain walkable from there, every link scored and carrying the reason it was drawn. No black boxes. No magic.
Most marine apps work until the signal dies. theONE is built for the moment the signal dies.
Every critical feature was designed to work with zero connectivity — logging, maintenance, stowage, crew access, and the emergency tools you hope you never open. No marina Wi-Fi. No cloud round-trip. No waiting.
There is a second half to it that matters just as much: theONE never invents data it doesn't have. No placeholder values, no fabricated alerts. On a boat, wrong information is worse than none.
Every change is written into an ordered outbox the moment you make it, so nothing ever waits on a connection in order to be recorded. The other half — the transport that carries that outbox to your other devices and to your crew — is not switched on in this build. Settings says Local only, because that is what it is. Offline-first, then sync, is the hard order to build in, and it is the only one that produces software that still works at anchor.
Forty miles from the nearest cell tower is a terrible time to discover your boat app needs the internet.
Boat records don't die at the desk. They die in the twenty minutes between noticing something and having a hand free — in the engine room, backing into a slip, halfway through dinner with guests.
No category, no form.
Open a jot, type or speak the thing, add a photo. Done. Standing on a ladder with a torch in your teeth, that is the only length of interaction that actually happens.
Then route it, later.
From the inbox it becomes an observation, an issue, a work order, incident evidence, a vendor task, a trip or leg entry, or a note against a stowage item.
Nothing detaches.
Promote a jot to an issue and its photos come across. Everything else stays on the jot — and the jot stays linked to whatever it became, so the photo and the voice memo are always one tap from the job they belong to.
Not a task with a due date. A job — with a number you can say on the phone, a scope of items going to the yard together, a vendor, a cost, and an outcome somebody will read two years from now.
Four ways it starts.
Promoted from a jot, promoted from an observation, raised by a service interval coming due, or typed in directly. Every origin keeps its provenance, so the chain from “noticed” to “fixed” stays unbroken.
A scope, not a task.
The mechanic is coming Thursday, so the pump, the genset service and the trim tab go on one visit. Add the third thing you found while he was already aboard — and the additional-work email lists only what has genuinely never been sent.
Two questions at closeout.
Is the fault gone? And was the vendor's work good? Separate fields, because a yard that came late and did excellent work is satisfactory, and one that came on time and botched it is not.
What the vendor found once he opened it up is often the most valuable line in the record — so it is stored attributed to the vendor, with the captain as scribe. Both are shown. A finding presented as the captain's own opinion would be a small lie in a record people rely on.
A vessel record is read, eventually, by somebody who was not there — a surveyor, an insurer after a claim, a buyer's broker. It is worth exactly as much as its weakest entry.
Closed with a reason.
"Fixed" is not one thing. Eight typed outcomes separate a fault proven on a sea trial from one worked around while the part is on order — and a verified fix records who verified it and when.
Corrected, never erased.
Re-open a record closed by mistake and the original close stays in its timeline, word for word. Incidents are append-only after a short edit window. And where a record can be retired, archiving keeps it — deleting is the deliberate second choice, not the only one.
Six one-tap exports.
Vessel Briefing, Departure Brief, Trip Summary, Deck Logbook, Insurance Export, Owner Week Digest — each written for the person who will actually read it.
Most of what keeps a vessel safe is not written down anywhere. It is in one person's head — the order they check things in, the step everyone forgets. That works until the person with the head is not aboard.
Nine kinds of playbook.
Pre-departure, underway, anchoring, refueling, post-trip, maintenance, emergency, extreme weather — and custom, for whatever your boat needs that nobody thought of. Each item is assigned to a crew position, not a person.
A run, not a tick.
Every check carries who did it and when, with notes and photos. A skip has to say why, rather than silently reading as done. And the run is pinned to the playbook version it used, so a March checklist is auditable as it read in March.
Readiness you can tap into.
Open items roll up by department — engineering, deck, interior, bridge, electrical, hull, safety — into a departure score on Mission Control. Tap a department to see exactly what is done and what is left, with a name against each one.
A cruise is not a departure and an arrival. It is a chain of hops, each with its own tide, its own crew, and its own moment where somebody decides whether to go.
Legs, not endpoints.
Each leg carries its own ETD and ETA, the tide at arrival, costs, notes and voice memos. Start one, end one, and the next is ready.
The marks in between.
Name a mark you actually round and theONE resolves it to a position, then draws the leg on the chart with distance and time to run.
A file every plotter reads.
Save the route as GPX and load it on Garmin, Simrad, Lowrance, B&G, Raymarine or Furuno by card or companion app. No proprietary format, no re-typing at the helm.
Follow it live.
Your boat as a puck on the same NOAA chart the planner drew, with speed over ground, distance to go and cross-track error. A view of the leg you are actually on.
She draws her own track.
A fix every five seconds under way, once a second through dock-out and dock-in. Pause — or drift under half a knot — and the track shows a dotted break rather than a straight line pretending you went that way. Scrub it back afterwards.
And the tools for out there.
Anchor watch armed at the GPS fix, a one-tap Emergency Drawer with a GPS-timestamped MOB pin and DSC procedure, float plans filed in under a minute with an overdue monitor behind them, and telemetry on your wrist and lock screen.
Auto-routing on the water is a hard problem at any distance, and it gets dramatically harder the further you go — which is why the marine apps that offer it tend to offer it for a harbour hop and quietly decline the passage you actually wanted planned.
Including the long hauls.
Legs up to 400 nautical miles point to point. We have measured a 246 nm passage laid out in under three minutes. The overnight run — not the last two miles into a marina.
It won't guess your draft.
No draft on file and it stops and asks, then carries on. A wrong guess could mark a six-foot sounding "safe" for a nine-foot keel. From the draft it derives the boat's minimum operating depth — one and a half times draft plus two feet — and that is the figure the router holds to in open water. In a charted maintained channel it relaxes to one and a half times draft, because a dredged cut is surveyed; it can only ever relax there, never tighten. Set your own instead and yours wins.
A proposal, not an instruction.
It draws the route over your own straight-line plot in faint red, tells you the distance, the waypoint count and the depth it respects, and lists what it kept you clear of. Accept, edit, or reject. Nothing changes until you say so.
And when there is no route to give — the margin tighter than the water, a passage closed — it says so, and draws what stopped it, rather than handing you a line that ignores the limit you set. We won't tell you it always finds a route. We will tell you it never invents one.
A schedule is arithmetic. What turns it into a maintained boat is everything around it — the hours the intervals count from, the spare you need before you can start, and the yard that did it last time.
Schedules that start populated.
Templates for Volvo Penta, MAN, CAT, Cummins, Yanmar, Onan, Northern Lights, MerCruiser, Seakeeper, Side-Power and Lewmar. A blank schedule is one nobody fills in.
Hours, two ways.
Log them by hand on a schedule you set — or connect your NMEA 2000 network and engine hours write themselves as they accrue, at most once per engine every fifteen minutes so the history stays readable. Depth, temps, voltages and tank levels stream live, and you save a reading whenever one is worth keeping.
Systems, not “the engines”.
The port main, not mains. Genset 1, not genset. Make, model, serial, install date — and every job, document, spare and hour reading hangs off the specific unit it concerns.
The parts to actually start.
A spare moves needed → ordered → received → on hand, and only the last one has a stowage location — because the other three genuinely don't. Then it's plain-word search: spare impeller, flare kit, the good corkscrew.
Vendors, and what they actually did.
A yard is a card with contacts, work sessions and sign-off history — not a phone number in a note. That history is what the Insurance Export draws on.
The binder aboard is authoritative and out of date. The drawer at home is complete and ninety miles away. The inbox has the current one and no way to find it. A document you can't produce when somebody asks for it is functionally a document you don't have.
A scanner that would rather ask.
Blurry, glared, skewed or under-resolved pages are flagged before you're shown a result you might believe — because a text recogniser fed a bad page doesn't fail, it hallucinates confidently. OCR runs on the device, into a searchable PDF.
It knows what it's looking at.
Tap “Insurance” and scan the USCG documentation and theONE catches it, instead of quietly poisoning your record. Below its confidence floor it asks rather than guesses — and a value you typed yourself is never overwritten by a scan.
Expiry, and what replaced what.
Eighteen categories, six-rung expiry warnings — with a 90-day early rung for USCG documentation, because federal renewals are slow. Scan this year's certificate and it offers to archive the one it replaces. Nothing is deleted.
Everyone on the same vessel. Everyone on the same page.
Owner, manager, captain, crew — six ordered roles, enforced in the code rather than by hiding buttons. A role cannot grant an authority it does not hold.
A vendor is not junior crew.
A mechanic needs the engine's service history, not your crew's private notes or your guest list. Vendors sit outside the hierarchy entirely, with access granted per card for the work in front of them.
Authority that expires.
The captain needs an owner-level edit while the owner is on a plane. That is a grant with an expiry — recorded, visible, and it lapses on its own, because taking it back is the step nobody remembers.
Private notes, logged overrides.
Crew keep notes that are theirs. The owner has a legitimate override — and using it lands in the trail, so crew can write candidly and an override is a deliberate act.
The one screen you open first. Today's leg, readiness, what's overdue, what needs a decision — the boat's state in a glance, not a menu to go hunting through.
Apple Watch glances
Underway heading, SOG and depth. Tanks and MOB on the wrist, so the essentials never require reaching for a phone.
Live Activity
Active leg, ETA and telemetry in the Dynamic Island — readable mid-passage without unlocking anything.
Anchor Watch
Arm it at the GPS fix. If the boat moves outside your radius you get the drag alert, not the morning surprise.
Emergency Drawer
One tap for a GPS-timestamped MOB pin, USCG contacts and DSC radio procedure. Cold hands, no time, zero signal.
Siri Shortcuts
Eyes stay on the water. Log an MOB pin, a watch change or a logbook entry hands-free.
Search across everything
One field over trips and legs, work orders, observations, incidents, playbooks and runs, documents, routes, stowage and supplies, vendors, crew and jots. Every hit is a door straight to the record.
Calendar
theONE creates a calendar named for your vessel on your iPhone, so trips, legs and service dates sit alongside the rest of your life — and a manager or relief captain can see the boat's schedule in the native Calendar app without opening theONE at all. Once a day it surfaces what's past due — with no time window, because if it isn't done it still needs doing.
Trace
See how today's observation connects to last summer's incident. Every entry sits in its full history, not in isolation.
Ships Directory
Crew, guests, vendors, float-plan and emergency contacts in one place with one search — every row a door to the card that already exists elsewhere.
Fleet
More than one boat? Switch between them from a grid, the header, or your launch preference. Each vessel is a completely separate record. One boat and the tab never appears.
Your account
Sign in and your boat travels with you — the same record on your phone, your iPad, and your crew's devices, each one holding the whole thing rather than a window onto a server. Sign-in is what links them; it is not what makes the app work.
Boat IT
Wi-Fi passwords, marina codes, gate access — the small keys that run a modern boat, Face ID locked and one search away.
Ask
Nearly 200 in-app help articles, and growing. One tap from any screen, no manual required.
Six ordered roles, enforced in the code rather than by hiding buttons — a role cannot grant an authority it does not hold. Access is enforced on the device, so it holds with no signal.
Owner
Full access. Sets the vessel, holds the data, grants and revokes everything below.
Manager
Schedules, vendors and paperwork. No helm-side noise.
Captain
Runs the boat day to day. Plans trips, logs runs, manages maintenance.
Crew
Logs hours, completes checklists, sees the trip plan and the weather.
Vendor
Not junior crew. Near the bottom of the ladder, inheriting nothing from it — what a vendor can actually do is granted per card, scoped to the job in front of them.
Guest
The bottom rung, and it writes nothing. Someone aboard for a leg who is not crew, carrying the one thing the whole crew needs to see: allergies.
The first 50 captains get early access to theONE before public launch and a direct line to the team. In return we ask for honest feedback from real trips — including the ones where the signal disappears. Request your spot below.
