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Part Two (Luxury) West Highland Week 09

West Highland Week Up-date Part Two.

Firstly, sorry for the time it has taken to get this together, busy re- floating our boat and insurance stuff.

Anyway, back to WHYW 09 which was, shall we say one of the best I have ever had to endure?  It would be fair to say that they do just seem to be getting better and better every year. It was great chat driving up the road, just knowing that you were going to have a great week. On arrival to Craobh, the starting place for the majority of the fleet,  we looked for our support boat amongst the very large fleet.  It soon became clear that our leaders had thought of everything, and whilst not very well sign posted, it was a delight to see the tallest mast in the marina which made identification of our ‘home’ for the next week much easier.

At the time I didn’t  realise just how true that would be,  as I was shown to my rather dapper en-suite  double bedroom  with floor boards  to die for, and by the way where I say en-suite  it’s not what some of you 24 -35 footer boats are thinking “ya Ya there’s a sink in our boat too” No this is a proper en-suite  with a shower and toilet and sink with a vanity unit that looks as if it should be in a house with enough space to make you think you’re at home.  Yes, think of your student flat with all the walls knocked down and a bathroom taking up the space. Anyway after finding my way back to the main saloon and helping the upper management team destroy various highly priced shades of red wine, it was time to zip on the fat suit and hit the bar. So obviously lower me down on to the pontoon from the deck and off we go.

It was great seeing so many good friends mostly with their wives nowadays, but still looking very good indeed and great to see that they still enjoyed a drink before sex which was just like the good old days, apparently!  It was great to say hello and join some of the younger team listening to all their crazy stories of what they thought was madness and daring. Well, just let me tell you, there were some in that room that would still be able to take bundles of you young dudes on single handed and have you praying for the morning just to see if you were still alive. Anyway after having around 10-12 Bake well tarts which are drinks apparently, fuck knows what’s in them but they were good.

It was very strange when I sort of half woke up and unconsciously looked round my mahogany lined double stateroom thinking how Mrs Marine Blast had pulled out all the stops and got me the  deluxe coffin  for my final resting place. Bakewell Tarts are not that good for you after you finish them, it would appear. I was shown the way to the breakfast area by one of the very efficient staff members, and thought that I would eat as much as I could. Which is traditional after a big night on the solid hand crafted teak.  I was reintroduced to the crew that I was with the night before and off we set to the fast boat. Little did I realise that it was the last I was going to see of anyone in an over loaded, sticky carpeted, joint with the stale odour of beer, being served by bar staff with faces as long as horses (sorry horses – at least horses have teeth I’m thinking) making you feel as welcome as Michael Jackson at your kids first sleep over “Welcome to Scotland” I’ll just be with you when I fu&kin feel like it type of attitude (not that it was anything like that in Craobh).

As rumour had it I never actually left the super yacht after leaving Craobh till we got back to Oban on Friday, such was the hospitality and thoroughly good, sorry excellent, crack that was the flavour of the week onboard. It was lovely to see all the young guns heading off every night after a five course dining experience half full of wine in search for their WHOLE night of fun, night after night after night without any luck apart from I think, “Fergus “who did have an overnight stay on top of something with hair longer than his own. So I think that might count as a road to the Jeremy Kyle Show in a few months time.  That “Old Spice” still works it would appear. While the young Guns were away we would enjoy some wine tasting, from various regions of the world, while munching canapés with a little singing later on, before the pole dancing started.  This is usually the job of scantily clad girls but not in this case, as it would turn out after a few bottles from the French region leaving the back stay never to be the same again.

The under teak deck heating  worked to great effect  and made you feel  like you were back in your living room, sitting comfortably in your slippers and smoking jacket. Such was my pang of guilt while held up on this luxury Super Yacht that one night when all the young guns were ashore I had the unfortunate timing to be the last to use the BOG and as my luxury appetite left my person it appeared not leave the porcelain. Of course my heart sank unlike the contents of the pan, when the water would not stop filling it, and then just as the level reached the top it stopped (must be a sensor) panic took over, but it wouldn’t go I had to alert the staff who had already noticed that I was missing due to the fact that an almost full wine glass hadn’t moved for some 38 seconds.

It was the first time that I was the last to fill the system with inside stuff that didn’t smell like it was mine (which smells more like floral arrangements) anyway help was at hand and as you would expect during a luxury Super Yacht outing it was not my hand, but of what would turn out to the hand of my God for the moment in the form of shall we say the relief skipper, much of that relief mine I suppose. He set about with speed and as much concentration and started getting to the bottom of the problem, not mine I must say at this point, after spending a considerable amount of time stripping down the system and got it all sorted out and back together in no time at all, boy does that guy know his shit and probably all my shit too. It goes to say he got it all together and got me back at the table for cheese and wine hour.

Like most good things they do come to an end sooner or later but not after many true stories and chat, the kind that only arrives when everyone is relaxed and chilled. To say this year I was at West Highland Week could be a little bit mis-leading, yes I was there but maybe just a little bit somewhere else that I hadn’t been before, it was an exceptional experience and I did feel sorry for the young guns onboard at the start of their sailing career, I mean where do you go from there? Question: would you like to come and crew for me this weekend young man? Answer: why yes old boy could you e-mail me through the menu so I can put my dietary requirements along with what Linen I’ll require. Yes, it’s going to be tough.

Some stats that I observed:  160 plated breakfasts, lunch and snacks for 160, 160 three course dinners:  2 large sack size bags of crisps for one Olympian,  and around 170+ bottles of red and two white but only to get the red stains out if you know what I mean? That was 480 plated meals all prepared by the Yacht Staff without any fuss what so ever….Pure Genius.

A very big thank you indeed Stormbird luxury and Race Yacht Charter it sure is the Business.

Mr Marine Blast


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