Sometimes I forget that I live on a yacht. No seriously, hear me out. For me, the yacht is home. It’s where I eat, sleep, work, and everything in between. So sometimes I forget that if I look out the window, there may be people staring.
When we are at sea (and thus not coming across other human beings), I put little effort into my appearance. Since I’m not technically a member of the crew, I don’t always have to be in a certain uniform, at least when our owners aren’t onboard (which is usually the case). Therefore, if we’re at sea and I’m stuck on the boat taking care of a 20 month old rascal, whatever I have slept in may just do the trick.
However, like i said, there is always the possibility that someone might be watching.
Last month we sailed from Victoria, BC to Seattle, WA and unbeknownst to me, we had to go through a lock canal system to reach the dock. Knowing E would get a kick out of seeing the locks from the inside, we rushed outside to take a look. Not realizing that this particular lock system (the Hiram M. Chittenden locks for those who are interested) was listed as a top attraction in Seattle, E and I were met by about 100-200 people merely feet away from us, lining around the perimeter to watch us pull in and grab a photo. This would have been fine had my look been anything but my hair in a messy bun, glasses on in lieu of contacts, and ever present toddler stains decorating my pajamas worn sans bra.Oh yes. At least I had a sweatshirt on so I could hide my bra-less glory. Too bad we happened to arrive on the only warm day we had experienced yet in the Pacific Northwest and all I wanted to do was take my sweatshirt off, but I decided to spare the masses that vision.
Today we made the same trip but this time, I was prepared. Hair neat, acceptable clothing (even in a uniform zip up- check me out), and most of all, appropriate undergarments.
For years there has been talk about a “yachting reality show” in the works in the industry rumor mill which has subsequently been followed by much controversy and mostly disdain for the idea. Well, no longer a rumor, the new series “Below Deck” will be airing on Bravo come July 1st.
Now, I haven’t seen any of it (obviously since it hasn’t aired yet) and the two sneak previews Bravo has added to their site aren’t accessible from the marina I’m sitting in in Canada, so any criticisms I’m about to make are mostly speculation. However, from my experience (albeit limited) over the past year and half working on a yacht (and two and half years since I initially took the plunge, so to speak, and earned my first yachting certification) I can tell you one thing; If this show is going to have any following, then it probably isn’t an honest representation of typical daily life for yacht crew.
Not so much…
Here is the show’s summary on Bravotv.com:
“This series follows a groups of crewmembers living and working aboard “Honor”, a 164′ mega-yacht. The upstairs and downstairs worlds collide when this single crew, known as “yachties,” live, love, and work together on-board the luxurious, privately-owned yacht while tending to the ever-changing needs of their wealthy, demanding charter guests. While each crew member brings a different level of experience, they all share a love for this lifestyle that enables them to travel to some of the most beautiful and exotic locales in the world.”
First of all, from my understanding the crew have been hand picked for this show, so much like MTV’s “The Real World”, I assume they have intentionally placed big personalities together to spur drama and furthermore, the charter guests know they are being filmed, so these won’t be your normal guests looking for an escape from the world onboard their private oases. Yes, real drama with guests and owners exists, but this is presumably going to be dramatized as it is made for television.
Crew Life: ironing pillowcases
Second of all, day to day life while owners or guests are onboard is nothing to write home about; days are long, work is plentiful, and free time is non-existent. I was asked to write a “day in the life” type of piece for an online publication once and was met with the request to change it to a typical day when I am OFF the boat because that’s how mundane our true daily routine is. One commenter on a Dockwalk.com forum put it perfectly; “Stews- beds, heads, laundry… beds, heads, laundry… beds, heads, laundry; Deckies- clean, polish, scrub… clean, polish, scrub… clean, polish, scrub”. Does that sound like an exhilarating and captivating reality show? Not really. Sounds more like watching paint dry. There’s a reason I haven’t posted that “day in the life” piece on this site; however, I’ll happily post a video of our second engineer cleaning the sewage, that might actually be entertaining.
That’s more like it…
Lastly, all the “exotic locales” that are visited while guests are onboard, will mostly be seen only from the porthole for most crew members. This is a vacation for the guests, not the crew. Granted, there will be a day or two here and there for relaxation, but if it is truly a charter season, those days in between guests will be full of cleaning and detailing the boat for the next guests. Not very much time for beers on the beach as seen in the featured image for the series.
Just as my friend living on the coast in New Jersey despises the representation of her hometown on “Jersey Shore”, so will many “yachties” inevitably abhor the portrayal of their profession. It will be interesting to see what effect this show will have on the yachting industry after it airs and what it will do for the future careers for the cast members. Just like those who decide it’s a good idea to go on MTV’s “Real World”, I can’t see it being a shining star for one’s resume.
I’ll try to keep up with it as best I can (which will be difficult because the boys don’t share the remote and even if they did, ironically our owners will be onboard for the first few weeks) and see what direction the show takes. Turns out, trashy reality television is my guilty pleasure (I never said I was perfect!).
I love my job, but I understand that it might not be for everyone. Here’s how to tell if you should just stay land based and cut your losses.
You’re too private and embarrass easily
There is no privacy on a boat. Remember that nasty virus I had back in Seattle? Yeah, under normal conditions I would have being sharing that lovely experience with a crewmate in a room the size of a modest walk-in closet. Heaven forbid you drop some kids off at the pool (that’s poop for those not down with the get down) because anyone looking at the monitors can see the water levels change. It’s easier to just check your ego at the door and embrace it.
Ironing pillowcases- also a good way to check your ego
You like to plan ahead
Want to know when I booked my flights home for the holidays? The day before I left. And that was for a trip going from Singapore all the way back to the east coast US. While I was home, I didn’t even know where I’d be flying back or what date I would be leaving. That’s the reality of a life in yachting. In fact, sometimes I don’t know if we’re leaving port to sail somewhere else until I wake up. It all comes down to ever changing owner’s schedules, crew schedules and various boat maintenance. It would drive some people crazy, but I don’t mind it.
You’re looking for the OTHER other fish in the sea
Listen, working on the boat with two married couples as the only single is not ideal, but for me the pros highly outweigh the cons. However, if you’re looking to find a mate and settle down, keep looking; yachting is not for you. You’re most often only in a given place for a few days to a few weeks before it’s on to the next place and like I said before, planning in this industry is near impossible. Even if you are in a relationship already, finding jobs together as newbie couples in the industry is close to impossible, so I recommend flying solo. Oh yeah, and you aren’t allowed to bring people back to your crew cabin so have fun getting creative.
who needs a boyfriend when you can have terremotos in Chile?
You get seasick
This is a no brainer, but it has to be said. There was a lot riding on my first trip at sea because if it all turned pear shaped, I wouldn’t be here writing this. On that trip, I witnessed firsthand somebody so seasick that they couldn’t move or eat for almost two full days when we finally had to stop and anchor to give him some relief. We also had a guy doing some work for us on the boat while we were in Singapore and even while tied up to the dock, not moving, he got a headache and dizziness from the slightest movement. Seasickness is no joke and it will kill any career working on yachts.
You’re a hoarder
Good luck finding space for your stamp collection from elementary school in your crew cabin. (Fun Fact: I actually did have a stamp collection in elementary school…)
We just received word on when our owners are coming onboard for their first official trip on the boat and it got me to thinking about all the crazy stories I’ve been told about the yachting industry and it’s eccentric crowd. Plus let’s be honest, you all want to hear stories about the rich and famous and their lives onboard massive floating palaces.
Some of the best and most hideous stories were told to me by my instructor during my Stewardess course while I was finishing my yachting certifications; this is one of the most memorable.
Without further adieu,
The Serial Pooper
My lovely instructor had worked for a number of years in the yachting industry and one of the yachts she was a stewardess on had an owner who often brought a group of his friends onboard. Comprised of all middle aged men, the trips were what one expected they might be; a bunch of family men away from home for a little luxury R&R boy’s getaway.
However, whilst cleaning one of the guest’s showers, my instructor lifted the drain only to find a pile of poop.
There is no way to accidentally poop inside a shower drain. It’s just not possible. One of these middle aged men had literally pried the shower drain open and then strategically placed his derriere over it with such accuracy and precision, in order to leave a turd, and along with it, any shred of decency he had within him.
The thing is, my instructor knew which guest it was, and had to smile and act as if nothing had happened. Can you imagine?!
This wasn’t an isolated incident however. Over the course of a few seasons, the guest (a good friend of the owner) had been onboard multiple times, each time leaving his stinky deposit for her, or whichever poor stewardess was assigned to his room, the unfortunate task of cleaning it up and pretending it didn’t happen.
Go ahead and imagine how you would even attempt to clean that mess, because I can’t.
Eventually, all the crew onboard secretly knew of his filthy habit and even had a clever poop-related nickname for him. The owner, I’m told, was a decent and respectable man to work for and I know my instructor had debated revealing to him this repeated offense by his friend, but unfortunately I can’t remember what came of it.
Whatever the case, this guy took advantage of the hired help in a most appalling way. And that’s pretty shitty.
I don’t know where exactly my wanderlust came from. It could be having lived in Italy for my first few years of life as a result of my dad being stationed there with the US Navy. Likewise, it could be a result of my mom’s adventuresome personality which seems to have manifested itself in my own being. All I know is that I’ve been happily afflicted as far back as I can remember and that working on the boat has been the perfect antidote.
In San Marino, Italy doing what I do best
It’s a funny thing when you get a taste of travel. Call it being bitten by the ‘travel bug’ or simply an addiction; once you get a taste, it’s hard to stay put ever again. People always ask me when I’m going to be home next or when I’m going to finish traveling and honestly, I have no idea. When it comes to the world, I want to see everything and do everything. It’s become more than an addiction; it’s a necessity.
Even if/when I stop this traveling/nomadic lifestyle, I still see constant vacations and trips in my future (providing I live well enough within my means, thus allowing for it). Whether it be day trips or international jaunts, I don’t plan on stopping.
Occasionally I miss the simple pleasures of being at home but I know myself well enough to recognize my restless spirit. Sometimes my wanderlust feels like a curse; watching my friends back home settle into routines, get engaged, enjoy and bemoan their 9-5 lives simultaneously. In a strange way, I feel like I’m missing out.
But the things I’m “missing out” on will always be there waiting for me if I really want them.
And if you’re lucky, you’ll have incredible friends and family who understand why you’re always gone.
When I was younger, I always thought that I’d want to have kids in my mid-twenties as my parents were both significantly older when they had my brother and I. I think about the years ahead and occasionally stifle the fleeting thought that they might not be around for certain milestones if I continue to push them farther into the future (marriage, kids, etc.). Yet as my 25th birthday approaches in the next few weeks, I can’t imagine doing any of those things anytime soon (thank you E for continually being my living, breathing reminder of life after children). I guess I’m a lot like my parents and I am understanding more and more the paths they both took as I take a similar route.
I feel like I’m starting to lose track of my thoughts, but I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you’re going to be addicted to something, a life of travel really isn’t the worst option (at least not so far… knock on wood). There are always going to be things to miss out on, but the pros seem to outweigh the cons, and by letting go of socially accepted structure and the notion of what life should be like, you open the path for incredible adventures. Who knows, maybe in my thirties I’ll meet someone while volunteering in California and we’ll end up having a daughter who’ll be as curious about the world as I am, thus continuing the family tradition.
As I sit here watching the rain cast a dreary film over the quaint harbor in Victoria, BC with E napping silently upstairs (I better not be jinxing it), all I can think of is what I would do for a Sunday session in Fremantle.
Americans love a good ‘Sunday Funday’; Australians fancy a ‘Sunday Sesh’. Pretty much across the globe, people like Sundays.
A proper “Sunday Sesh”, as it is so aptly abbreviated by our good friends down under, is a hazy mix of friends, food and good brews. What’s not to love? While on Australia’s west coast, taking a dip down to Cottlesloe for drinks at the OBH is usually preferred, but I’m a big fan of a good natured run around in Fremantle (also not short on brews). Follow my lead, and you won’t be sorry. (Don’t worry about having a designated driver- the Transperth train runs right into the heart of Fremantle!)
First take a necessary frolic in the park to soak in the realization of the perfect day you are about to have:
Don’t look too closely; jumping mid-motion isn’t my best pose.
You are going to want to stock up on some snacks with all the drinking (and further frolicking) you have planned so make a pit stop at Kakulas Sister on the main road to grab a bag full of my personal favorite, dried strawberries. They are like little bursts of heaven; you’ll thank me later. Plus, it’s nice to have a stash of healthy sugar rush snacks at your disposal. They’re healthy…shh:
Overly excited about organic fruit snacks.
If you are anything like my friends and I, it will have taken you an excessive amount of time to actually leave for your day out so you are going to be starving and in need of sustenance (beyond what dried strawberries can provide). Little Creatures Brewery on the water is going to look like a viable solution, but only if you are keen to wait around for a half hour before a waitress even comes to say hello. The remedy: The Monk Brewery and Kitchen on the main street. You won’t find views of the water but you will find good food, even better home brews, and a great spot to people watch. Sit outside, but make sure you’ve slathered on the SPF 50 because the sun down under is no joke:
The Monk Brewery and Kitchen also serves up a huge Paella on the deck and it smells incredible.
Get in my belly.
An Aussie staple: The Steak Sandwich
After filling your bellies with steak sandwiches and cold drinks, the obvious next stop is more drinking. It is Sunday, after all. Walk about 15 steps right across the street to Sail & Anchor for cocktails and a beer sampler from their expansive beer menu. You can pick and choose your samples but we let the bartender surprise us because we like to live on the edge. Take your liquid smorgasbord upstairs to the balcony to watch live street performances below:
If you look closely, the “food pairing” suggestion is “cigars and poker”. Call me a fatty, but that’s not food. Either way, it was good.
Obviously we had to try the cocktails too. This is me with my Saudi/Scottish friend, N.
That’s the Sail & Anchor balcony in the background.
When you’ve decided you’ve got enough of a buzz going on, walk another 15 steps to the Fremantle Markets. Who doesn’t love a good market? Even if they aren’t your thing, you’ll have had anywhere between 1-10 (listen, I’m not judging) drinks at this point so you’ll be excited for just about anything. Open almost every day, the Fremantle Markets are a must visit if you find yourself in the area. Stroll around and check out all of the goods (and of course food) available. You won’t regret it.
I head straight to the kangaroo jerky stand every time. Are you even surprised? Kangaroo is delicious. Sorry little buddies!
Just make sure you don’t get your toothpicks from the “used” jar for your samples or you’ll end up having to sterilize your mouth like this. Is it surprising we had a bottle of vodka on hand?
Finally, stumble your way back to the train station with full bellies and possibly ridiculous buzz induced market purchases (cough, didgeridoo). Wash, rinse, and repeat next Sunday.
If you read my previous post about trying to make friends in Perth, you understand my frustration concerning the subject. If not, let’s just say I had idealistic visions for my life down under which were mostly met with less than idealistic results in the first couple of months I spent there (Except for when it came to the place itself; summer in Perth is pretty up there with the best. Minus the sharks.). It was surprisingly difficult making friends in Perth and I have a few ideas of why that was the case, but it’s more fun to tell you about all the ways I failed while trying (and embarrassed myself while doing so).
When I arrived in Perth, I became a frequent visitor of the local coffee shop, The Dome (Seriously, where do they come up with the names for these places? Or is my mind deeper in the gutter than most…?). I had come to know a couple of the staff by name and they would often greet E and I with a warm hello when we would stop in for our daily coffee and story time.
I basically lived at this place my first couple months in Perth… Sometimes I amaze myself at how cool I can be.
In particular, there was a lovely girl whose name I can’t recall but it was distinctly Finnish as she was only in Perth on a working holiday visa. I thought, hey, she must know what it’s like to be new; maybe we can be friends?
One day after ordering my iced coffee, minus whip cream, minus ice cream (it’s really complicated ordering a plain iced coffee in Perth), Finnish girl tells me it’s her last day as per the working holiday visa, you can only maintain one job for a maximum of six months at a time.
Come on people of Perth, listen to Yeats; be my friend.
Sitting with E and my coffee, I thought, alright, here’s your chance to stop being a loner and finally have someone to hang out with. So what did I do? I wrote down my name and number on a napkin to hand to her when we left.
Looking back, I just have to laugh because A) how cliche to write your phone number on a napkin, and B )WAS I TRYING TO DATE HER?!?!
It seemed perfectly reasonable at the time (maybe it was just my state of desperation. I bet she could smell it on me…) and when I handed the napkin to her upon exiting and suggested that we should hang out sometime, she seemed agreeable.
I never heard from her.
Perth: 2
Arielle: 0
(at this particular point in time. I assure you, friends were eventually made.)
I’m just going to make copies of these and carry them with me, along with tape, to every place we sail. Problem solved.
