Crew Diaries

Crew Diaries Welcome to Crew Diaries – the anonymous space where the wildest yachting stories come to life.

From scandalous workplace drama to jaw-dropping guest antics, we collect the the industries most ridiculous tales that never make it to the surface.

"We were on boss trip in Norway. One evening, we had live musicians come play on the aft deck for the guests and crew. T...
24/04/2025

"We were on boss trip in Norway. One evening, we had live musicians come play on the aft deck for the guests and crew. The owner let us have some drinks, and it slowly turned into a proper party. It was stunning—music echoing through the fjords, the summer sunset glowing over calm waters. Total tranquility.

As the night went on, the owner and his wife went to bed, and their kids stayed up partying with us. Eventually, even the kids turned in. It ended up being just myself and one of the deckhands left.

He was a full-on stoner—wild guy. We were drunk, and he looked at me and said, “Hey, want to smoke a joint?” I figured, why not? So we headed down to the swim platform. It was dead quiet, stars above, the still water of the fjord around us. We sparked up a joint, it was surreal. Exactly what I wanted after a gnarly few weeks on trip.

Then he turns to me and goes, “Hey dude… I have some DMT. Want to smoke it?” I probably should’ve said no. But I was drunk, high, and in the mood for whatever. So I said, “F**k it, lets do it.” So there we were: me (the chief officer) and the deckhand, sitting on the swim platform at anchor in the middle of the night, somewhere deep in the fjords of Norway… smoking DMT out of a Coke can. One of those memories I’ll never forget. Probably shouldn’t have happened—but I’m damn glad it did."

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"I once took a gig as a chase boat captain and ended up hooking up with the stewardess on board. During a crossing, just...
24/04/2025

"I once took a gig as a chase boat captain and ended up hooking up with the stewardess on board. During a crossing, just after we left port, she sat down in the helm seat and I started f***ing her right there.

She was facing forward and I was f***ing her looking aft, while underway. Mid-session, I looked up and realized something wasn’t right—the land that had been behind us had disappeared. We hadn’t been moving that long, so I was confused. Then I checked the heading and saw what had happened: while we were going at it, my ass had nudged the helm a few degrees to port. We’d done a slow, unintentional circle—headed straight back toward land. We laughed it off, straightened course, and kept going.

A couple hours later, round two. This time on the bow. We left the helm unattended, doing 40 knots, and I was down there just e**ing her out. I kept glancing up between her legs to keep an eye on things, just in case. Good thing I did. One of those glances saved us—there was a sailboat dead ahead. Had I not looked up at that exact moment, we would’ve plowed straight through it. I jumped back to the helm just in time and steered us away. That one shook us up a bit.

Later that night, we stopped mid-crossing and decided to swim. Midnight, open ocean, bioluminescence in the water, satellites overhead, shooting stars—it was actually quite beautiful. One of those unexpected moments you never forget. We slept well and carried on the next day.

What a wild two days."

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"I once worked with a chef who had been on board for a couple of years. He was great at his job, but he did however, hav...
24/04/2025

"I once worked with a chef who had been on board for a couple of years. He was great at his job, but he did however, have a serious drinking problem. This, for the most part, never caused enough of an issue to justify the captain firing him until a crazy 2 week period.

One night, he got so drunk that he couldn’t cook dinner for the crew. The captain let it slide and told him the least he could do was grab some takeout. So he went out and got Chinese. On his return, he dragged the oily bags across the teak—from the passerelle, down the companionway, and into the crew entrance—leaving a trail of grease stains across the deck.

The next night, he got drunk again. This time, fed up, the captain lifted the passerelle insisting the chef find his own place to sleep until he had sobered up. The next morning, the boat next to us came out to start their day and saw all their wash down gear from their bosun’s locker laid out on the deck. Confused, they opened the locker—and found our chef passed out inside, cozy in his temporary cabin. T

he captain gave him a final warning, which he took seriously… for about a week.

A week later, he disappeared again. He’d gotten a hotel, hired a ho**er, got drunk, did a bunch of blow, and spent the night with her. He only returned around 10 a.m.—on a Wednesday (work day)—walked straight into the galley to start cooking lunch, without showering or changing from the night before. What he hadn’t realized is that his shirt was covered in s**t stains from the night’s activities. That was the final straw. He was fired on the spot."

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“I once worked with a stew who was engaged to a chief officer working on another yacht in the Med. She was in the Caribb...
24/04/2025

“I once worked with a stew who was engaged to a chief officer working on another yacht in the Med. She was in the Caribbean, so they were doing the long-distance thing. Her fiancé genuinely believed she was loyal, and they had been planning the wedding, kids and everything else to spend the rest of their lives together. What he didn’t know was that she was having affairs with four different guys on our boat—deck crew and engineers. The wild part? None of them knew about each other either. She kept every fling completely under wraps, playing them all without anyone catching on. No drama, no slip-ups, no one ever found out. Now, She’s "happily" married to that same chief officer, living the dream. He still has no idea.”

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"Our chief stew had been fired, so we brought in a temp who came highly recommended. Most people spoke well of her, thou...
24/04/2025

"Our chief stew had been fired, so we brought in a temp who came highly recommended. Most people spoke well of her, though a few quietly said, “Just be careful when she drinks.” We didn’t think much of it—she’d apparently been sober for a while.

Before she joined, we’d stalked her on TikTok: full-on twerking, big fake t**s, lip filler—one of those loud, party-girl types. But when she arrived, she was the total opposite. Quiet, polite, professional. She did her job well, kept to herself, and got along with everyone.

One night on trip, the boss treated the whole crew to dinner. After a couple of glasses of wine, she started cracking jokes—and they were genuinely hilarious. Even the owners were in stitches. It was a great vibe. After dinner, the owners went to bed and the crew hit the bars. By the time we got to the first spot, she was wasted—sprawled across the pool table, spilling drinks, completely out of it. We got kicked out pretty quickly.

The next day, the boss gave us half a day off. She and I had overlapping breaks, so we went for lunch. We each had a beer, and she followed that up with two glasses of wine. She seemed totally fine when I left her, so I went back to the boat for a nap. I woke up to missed calls and a message from the captain: “Get over here now.” I found them at a restaurant—the captain, the chef, and the temp stew. She was absolutely gone. Head bobbing like she had no bones, hand limp in a bowl of pasta, eyes glazed. The captain turned to me and said, “The boss is leaving for dinner soon. We need to make sure she’s not seen.” So we took her to the yacht club to lay low. The captain asked me what I gave her at lunch—I said, nothing more than a beer and two wines. It didn’t add up. Later that night, we put her to bed and kept everything under wraps.

The next morning, we were due to depart at 6 a.m. She was on earlies, but no one had seen her. We figured she was hungover and slept in. The captain and I knocked on her door—no answer. We went in. The bed was empty. An empty bottle of tequila and her phone were lying there. Immediate alarm bells. We searched the entire boat—nothing. She wasn’t onboard.

We reviewed CCTV and saw her drunkenly walk off the boat around midnight. At 2 a.m., she returned, so drunk she was leaning on the shore power box to stand upright. Then she disappeared out of frame. Minutes later, security footage shows police officers with flashlights sweeping the water. At this point, we genuinely thought she had drowned. We started searching everywhere—under docks, behind fenders. Meanwhile, we were supposed to be departing.

The boss woke up and asked what was going on. We explained everything and told him we couldn’t leave until we found her. While we were checking near the dock, an ambulance drove by. We flagged it down. The captain asked, “Have you seen a big, loud American girl?” The paramedic replied instantly, “Oh yeah.” The captain followed up, “Fake lips, big t**s?” The guy said, “Oh yeah, we know exactly who you’re talking about.” Apparently, she’d been found in the water. An ambulance was called, but she refused treatment. So the police were called and had to detain her—not arrest her—just to protect her from herself.

The captain and I went to the station to collect her. She came out in tears, still visibly drunk, wearing a random hoodie and said she had no idea how she got there. She apologized and claimed she "must have been sleepwalking". I nearly lost it laughing—but held it in. She had no clue we knew what we knew.

We brought her back to the boat, and she carried on like nothing happened. But of course, once we docked the next day, she was on the first flight out."

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