photo contest - Yacht Essentials
photo contest - Yacht Essentials
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 />
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