Day in the Life: Diary of a Deckhand
With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. #25/1103.
Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com
Introduction – The Other Half of the Story
If you’ve ever wondered what keeps a yacht gleaming from bow to stern, it’s not just the polish — it’s the people behind the polish. Following the viral Day in the Life: Diary of a Stewardess, Erica Lay returns with a deckhand’s perspective: the saltier, wetter, and slightly more existential side of yachting life.
It’s a reminder that beneath every sunset photo and champagne flute lies a daily choreography of labour, humour, and quiet heroism — the unfiltered truth of life at sea.
06:30 – The Calm Before the Rinse
Woken by the dulcet tones of my alarm squawking at me and the subtle aroma of sweaty shirts from the laundry bag I forgot to take to the laundry room last night before passing out. My uniform polo has mysteriously shrunk overnight (again). Not sure whether to blame the stews (risky) or accept the fact that the chef’s food is just too good. Head up to the main deck and grab my bucket, brush, squeegee and dignity. Because today is washdown day. Again.
07:15 – Saltwater and Existential Crises
Start at the bow. Salt everywhere. Did the Mediterranean vomit all over us last night? Blast it all off while trying not to spray my own legs. Fail. The bosun walks past with a nod. That’s as close to affection as I’ll get this week. Make a mad dash down to the crew mess for a shot of coffee and see if I left my will to live down there. Spill it all over my shirt. Chef laughs at me and offers me a cookie. Eagerly accept.
08:00 – The Guest Slippers Are Missing
Stew panic on the radio. Guest slippers: vanished. This is code red. I briefly consider abandoning my post to help search, then remember I have 34 more metres of teak to scrub and a nervous breakdown scheduled for 10:45.
09:30 – The Guest Wants to Paddleboard
Guests are appearing on deck after their breakfast. We break out the toys. Inflate the paddleboard. Deflate the paddleboard because they meant the other paddleboard. Reinflate original paddleboard as no, no, they got confused. Fetch paddle, leash, and look for dignity (again).
10:15 – Tender Tantrums
Take another guest ashore in the tender. Smile like it’s not my third round trip in 30 minutes. Get back just in time to be asked to “make it sparkle” for the fourth time today. Resisting the urge to ask if I should bedazzle it.
12:00 – Lunch (Allegedly)
Shovel down crew curry like I’m training for a competitive eating contest. Almost get to sit down before someone radios in that the jet ski is “making a weird noise.” Could be the guest. Could be the jet ski. Either way, it’s my problem now.
13:00 – Jet Ski Crisis
Spend 20 minutes “diagnosing” a perfectly functional jet ski while the guest takes a nap. Wiggle a hose. Tap something authoritatively. Declare it fixed. They thank me like I’m Poseidon himself. Bosun nods approvingly at my deception.
14:00 – Cookie Reconnaissance
Pop down to the galley under the pretense of collecting napkins. Secure three cookies, a banana, and possibly a new lease on life. Chef raises an eyebrow. I salute him with a biscuit.
15:00 – Polishing War Zone
Back to stainless. Fingerprints as far as the eye can see. It’s like guests specifically grease up before touching handrails. If you’ve never wiped down 50 metres of chrome while contemplating your life choices, have you even been a deckhand?
16:00 – Emergency Power Nap
Sneak into the bosun’s locker. Pretend I’m reorganising line bags. Actually nap on a pile of chamois cloths for 12 glorious minutes. Wake up slightly damp, spiritually rejuvenated.
16:30 – Anchor Drama
Radio squawks: “Boss wants to reposition the yacht for a better view of the sunset.” This requires pulling the anchor up, moving 100 metres, and dropping it again. For the fifth time today. Guest satisfaction: 10/10. Crew patience: aggressively unavailable.
18:00 – Guest Drinks on the Bow
Work with the stews to set up beanbags, hurricane lanterns, cocktail tables and an entire Pinterest board of soft furnishings. Wind picks up. Lanterns blow over. Beanbags roll. Guest arrives and asks to sit on the sun deck instead. Swallow a scream. Relocate everything.
19:00 – Dinner Is Served, But Not to Me
Guests dining al fresco. I’m on standby with the tender. Mosquitoes feast on me while I try not to fall asleep.
22:00 – Turndown for What?
Guests head to bed. I sneak into the laundry room to iron my soul back into shape and fold yet another stack of Egyptian cotton beach towels that no one actually used.
23:00 – Finally Done (Sort Of)
Shower. Fall into bunk. Dream of salt, stainless, and a universe without fender scuffs.
Editor’s Note
This series continues our look at The Real Yacht Life — the side that doesn’t show up on the brochure. From the stew’s invisible service ballet to the deckhand’s sunburned endurance, these are the hands that keep the dream afloat.