TYW Day 7: Sail of Shame

Blah. Blah blah. There’s not a single one of us that’s not feeling completely wrecked. Our bodies have essentially rejected us. They are looking at the crackers and water we put in front of them and they’re screaming rejections. We’re taking turns being sick off the back of the boat. Partner puking on either side of the steering column. We lazily pass large bottles of water around hoping and praying that this sip will be the one that stays...

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TYW Day 6 (Part 2): Drinks like a… cat?

You may assume that the after the events with Louise’s sailor-mouth, we breezed into port, parked and had a nice leisurely day strolling about Hydra’s old beautiful Greek-ness. But if so, you obviously do not know me well, as there was much more drama to ensue. And not just from me. No, Louise wasn’t finished either. As we pulled into our sweet spot, just one boat off of land (and therefore an easy hop and skip onto land - or so we thought), we sandwiched ourselves...

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TYW Day 6 (Part 1): We’re All Queuing Mother F**ker

There weren’t many people who recovered well after the all night party on Dokos (Δοκός). Mostly because it was one of the latest nights yet collectively, since it was difficult to sleep while there were people playing Fuck the Dealer on your bed. We knew we only had a short sail to our next (and final) destination, Hydra (Ύδρα) but we also had been informed that it was a relatively...

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