Yacht and Superyacht by Travis Monk

06 August 2013

Travels By Sea

Our own intrepid voyager Travis Monk takes a look at sailing the high seas in style with yachts of the super variety. Oh, and don’t forget, Seven Seas Worldwide’s MoveCube service is perfect for international shipping and moving abroad if you don’t have a superyacht. Like most people, really.

At this time of the year, there will be people in your social circles who will indulge you in stories of their recent excursions abroad. The most notable and long-winded will undoubtedly be the ‘backpacker’ who will delight in laying on thick the self-enforced hardships he/she had to suffer, all the while reiterating what a magical experience it was.

Well, thanks but no thanks. When I go on holiday, I don’t want to ‘rough it’. Going abroad isn’t about collecting anecdotes about washing your hair in a cow’s trough; it’s about big white fluffy dressing gowns and giving a porter £10 to move an unpleasant couple from Sheffield away from your favourite spot on the private beach.

When I choose to go abroad I always opt for palatial hotels, blue skies and swimming pools the size of a large swimming pool. And nothing says ‘opulent waste of time’ more than a ride in a superyacht. The superyacht I hire for my holiday is called Prometheus, named after the disappointing Ridley Scott film. On board there are jet skis, waterskis, scuba gear and another, smaller yacht. And inside that yacht is another smaller yacht. And inside that yacht is an unpleasant couple from Sheffield that I had removed.

A superyacht like this will set you back. There’s no point mentioning the price, you can’t afford it. It’ll just set you back. As I made several white, bubbling loops around the bay, trying to capsize the dinghies of other holidaymakers -particularly that idiot with the bronzed Spacehopper belly and the Ray-Bans who took all the bacon at breakfast this morning –my captain, Henri, told me more about Prometheus in between regular instructions to slow down and stop chasing everything. ‘You can spend anything up to £5 million on a superyacht holiday,’ he tells me. ‘That means we only deal with a specific kind of customer. Obnoxious ones.’

‘These people don’t want really want a holiday. They want to park the superyacht in a marina somewhere and show it off for two weeks.’ ‘Sounds great!’ I say and head for the nearest port, hitting 12 knots and I think a dolphin (they get a lot of good press but they’re not as smart as you think).

And so for the next fortnight, I sunbathed on the deck, occasionally looking over my sunglasses at passers-by and wishing I were them so that I see how good I looked. And that’s what Henri fails to understand. We all need our egos massaged, our importance noted, our life choices appreciated. Even the backpacker ‘roughing it’ through Peru with just a bottle of Evian and a powerful odour wants to be admired. He wants you to listen to his story. His story is his superyacht.

My superyacht? Well, my superyacht is a superyacht because I’m wealthy. 

Posted in: Holidays, Travel