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photo contest - Yacht Essentials

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So, I was at this sushi night organized by a yacht<br />

chef who had recently found himself unemployed<br />

and, as such, had nothing else to do to<br />

pass the time other than organize sushi nights<br />

at his friend’s bar in an attempt to stop himself from<br />

partying it up every night. All chopsticked up, I was<br />

attempting to dip my sashimi into a delicious wasabi-laced<br />

soy sauce without dropping it and splashing<br />

myself all over. Again. Anyway, attempt failed, I was<br />

dabbing at the fresh brown splats on my sleeve when<br />

my friend, another yacht chef, sauntered over to fish<br />

for work.<br />

“You missed a bit,” he said, looking at me oddly.<br />

“Where?” I asked, looking at my other sleeve.<br />

“On your nose,” he replied, smirking.<br />

I wiped at it. “Gone?” I asked.<br />

“No. Here, it’s a bit dried on...” he said, leaning over to<br />

do that lick-hanky-and-wipe-face thing that a toddler’s<br />

mum would be proud of.<br />

The distinct possibility that I’d been talking to the captain<br />

of a freshly pulled up 65-meter for the past 15 minutes<br />

with congealed soy and wasabi on my face, giving<br />

me the appearance of fungus the bogey man, suddenly<br />

dawned on me. Brilliant.<br />

Anyway, a conversation ensued whereby said yacht chef<br />

proceeded to verbally dissect the sushi, pulling out its<br />

strengths, but more than that, focusing on its weaknesses.<br />

He took great pleasure in having a captive audience<br />

(I couldn’t move; I had him on one side and a whole tray<br />

of California rolls calling my name on the other) and explained<br />

how he prepared his own sushi and, of course,<br />

how it was much better.<br />

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when the yacht<br />

chef who’d prepared the food came over. The dialogue<br />

that followed was, I realized, when unable to get a<br />

word in edgeways for 10 minutes, not unlike the manner<br />

in which two rutting stags circle each other, prancing<br />

around, attempting to look mean and scary whilst<br />

showing off their antlers for the ladies looking on. OK,<br />

in this case it was just a few old sorts hanging off bar<br />

stools with half empty martini glasses who’d heard<br />

www.<strong>Yacht</strong><strong>Essentials</strong>.com 85

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