BUOY’S CLUB
ONE day, not very long ago, a boat owner’s wife woke up on a superyacht in the Caribbean, miles away from habitation, and decided she wanted 1 000 white roses. In the world of the super-rich, staff have to be able to get anything from anywhere within 24 hours – so the crew arranged for the flowers to be helicoptered from Miami, then brought to the yacht in time for dinner.
The next morning, the Mrs wanted them gone. Unable to chuck them into the sea and too far away to drop them at a port, the crew had to jam them into their tiny quarters.
Tales like this aren’t all that unusual in yachting circles. I’m at the superyacht industry’s mecca, the Monaco Yacht Show, where, for a week, more than 580 exhibitors set up stalls around the marina. There are ship designers, brokers, interior decorators and crew recruitment agencies. Here, if you can pay, you can have whatever you want: Swarovski-encrusted anchors, gold dumbbells for your gym, personalised loo rolls, and diamanté light fittings.
In the water are 125 boats. Some are newly built for private owners and brought here by the shipyards as an advert to other buyers. The remainder are second-hand, here to be rented or sold. The biggest superyacht at the show is Tis: 111,5m, 18 guests, 31 crew, a cinema, helipad and spa, and chartered for £1,7million (R33,15m) a week. Plus expenses.
Walking around the show, several people stop dead in front of me, dumbstruck that I haven’t moved out of their way. Two stewards try to cordon off a
