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We continued down the coast and past our ultimate destination of Monastery Bay and on towards a lunchtime anchorage we’ve named Crowded Bay. Should have named it ‘Twats In Motorboats’ Bay. Basically it was carnage, with everyone dropping their anchor wherever they wanted. Extra points were awarded for laying one’s chain over another.
On one occasion we approached a quiet little corner in Sarsala Iskelesi, slowed down the engine ready to reverse in, when a **** in a stupid red motor boat overtook us, dropped his anchor and tied up to a tree as Liz and I looked on, aghast, with arms raised. And you wonder why sailors dislike motorboat owners. What a prize a-hole.
I’ve just completed my first watch. Me. I’ve just helmed a 50m motor yacht from Marmaris, Turkey, into international waters. I’m now officially one of the big boys. I wonder what nautical tattoo I’ve earned? Image of a gin and tonic on my forearm?
Having spent much of the winter aboard Rama producing The Porthole, and spending Christmas Day around the dinner table with 18 friends, it was only fitting that Liz and I were invited to help deliver Rama to Malta, along with Gordon, the chief engineer who we had befriended over the winter period. The deal was that we could come along for the ride providing we helped out with a bit of cooking and watching…