[imagesource: Below Deck Mediterranean / Bravo]

Private yachts are like wealthy people’s own floating kingdoms.

They can do what they want and buy themselves into or out of anything.

For the staff working on board, they do have rights under the Maritime Labour Convention, but mostly, they’re so swept up by the money and exclusivity of the industry that they don’t dare rock the boat when the shit hits the fan.

And make no mistake, shit does hit the gold and Swarovski crystal-encrusted fan all the time.

As the yacht industry continues to flourish – one charter firm has reported that business more than quadrupled between 2020 and 2021 with even second-hand sales red hot right now – it is a good time to acknowledge the staff who make the sparkle out at sea possible.

Via The Telegraph, Melanie White, now 30, spent half of her 20s working as a steward and chef on luxury yachts, earning €40 000 (over R700 000) tax-free annually at the height of her career.

There were also the occasional four-figure cash tips, with board and lodging thrown in for extra measure, allowing her to put away a sizeable chunk for a relatively good life later.

In her new book, Behind Ocean Lines, Melanie opened up about the impact the work had on her mental health:

For beyond the banal miseries of marine existence (‘stirring a thick sauce over a lurching stove must be the perfect recipe for seasickness’), White tells of gruelling 18-hour days spent micro-cleaning bathrooms with tweezers and cotton buds, and of guests’ outrageous demands. One ‘yachtie’ she got chatting to at a crew bar in Montenegro told White that their ‘last guests had complained about the temperature of the water. Could they do something about it? Perhaps heat the Adriatic?’

…In her first year, White lost ‘a huge amount’ of weight and suffered a kidney infection due to dehydration (‘I just didn’t have time to drink enough’); her tooth enamel was eroded by regular vomiting because of seasickness, and she accrued ‘boat bites’, the painful legacy of on-board knocks and scrapes.

More disturbing are the stories of captains with ‘God complexes’ who bullied and even assaulted their crew. Melanie was once violently slapped while she was leaning across a galley table.

She never reported anything, because as she explained, “there’s no HR department on a boat”. Really, the cost of coming clean is too huge in the face of the massive industry:

 ‘Women who have been abused don’t come forward, because this is a closed world where everyone knows everyone. If you make any fuss, you’ll never get employed again,’ says White. This is a world where few dare to say no.

Alongside the moments of abuse and unfair treatment was also the feeling that “life had vastly been extrapolated into a continuum I was desperate to find my place in”, referring to how a life amid so much wealth and luxury can rub off on the crew.

The pressure and ridiculousness made Melanie think about suicide, which actually happens among yachties all too often. Almost 6% of deaths at sea are connected to suicide, according to one study.

Emma Ross, a steward and chef from South Africa with 15 years of experience, also started feeling these negative effects. These ladies have set up Seas The Mind, a ‘mental health first aid’ training programme for crews:

Ross explains, ‘Long periods away from home, high-pressure situations, accidents on board, a lack of awareness and stigma all contribute to high levels of poor mental health among those in our industry.’

Ross also mentioned the sexual exploitation of crew members, with some being offered breast enlargements while others were chosen based on their looks “like prostitution” from a pile of CVs.

Apparently, staff are also regularly tested for STIs because “the owners want to hook up with the stewardesses. It’s quite crazy, and disgusting.”

There are also safes full of cash for things like €5 000 tips, and the parties of Saudi princes ordering the deckhands to go ashore and “bring us back some hookers”.

Ross explained that after a while “this deep sense of shame sets in: why am I doing these things for these people? It gnaws away at your sense of self-worth.”

One has to be careful about becoming bound to the job with a set of “golden handcuffs” because being on the periphery of all that wealth and glamour is so addictive.

[source:telegraph]