Diary of a Sous/Crew Chef: The Galley Gladiator Below Deck
With Courtesy of Erica Lay & The Mallorca Bulletin. #25/1120.
Erica Lay is owner of EL CREW International Yacht Crew Agency http://www.elcrewco.com/ erica@elcrewco.com.
By Erica Lay
05:30 – Rise and Brine
Up before the guests, before the sun, and definitely before any sane human should be handling knives. The head chef is already in the galley, whispering lovingly to the hand-dived scallops like they’re old friends. I tiptoe in behind them to prep crew breakfast, hoping the eggs can’t sense my caffeine deficiency.
06:30 – Feeding the Masses (Crew Edition)
Toast. Eggs. Granola. Yogurts. Milks. Crumpets. Croissants. Smoothies. Someone’s trying to go keto, someone else is claiming dairy intolerance (why are they eating a yogurt?), and one deckhand wants “just something beige.” Someone asks for the granola to be “less crunchy”. I tip it into a blender in front of them, whizz, and remove, maintaining eye contact throughout. I do my best. I love them. But also, I hate them.
08:00 – Guest Breakfast Backup
The head chef barks a request for more hollandaise. I plate and polish like I’m auditioning for a Michelin star. A stew whisks the plate away like it’s a relay race. I return to the crew fridge to find someone’s eaten the fruit I chopped for lunch. I label a container “DO NOT EAT” and it disappears in under ten minutes. Then I find a rogue spoon in the fridge and spend 45 seconds having an existential crisis about who is doing this to me. Revenge is a dish best served with laxatives. (Kidding. Probably.)
10:30 – Crew Lunch Prepping
Now we’re deep into miso glaze and couscous debates. I’m trying to keep the galley tidy while making four versions of the same meal to suit every dietary persuasion. One engineer has a nut allergy, the third stew is vegan except on Fridays, and the deck crew eat like they’re all training for a Strongman contest. Find myself whispering to a pan of quinoa like it’s a therapy session. Quinoa tells me I’m doing a great job. Wonder if I’ve had too much caffeine.
12:00 – Guest Lunch Assist
I get drafted in to finish garnishes for the beach picnic. Micro herbs and edible flowers are applied with tweezers while we bounce through a two metre swell. I haven’t sat down since 06:00 and my blood type is now coffee.
13:00 – Crew Lunch Rush
It’s crew lunchtime. I plate up 15 portions and hope for silence. Instead, I get four comments, three complaints, and one marriage proposal (from the bosun, again). I eat my lunch crouched near the dry stores. With my hands. It’s peaceful there.
14:00 – Hiding from Crew
Despite locking myself in the dry store, a decky finds me to ask if I “have time to make something special” for their afternoon tea. Yes, just let me cancel my one chance to pee today and get right on that.
15:30 – Clean Up & Prep Round Three
Wash everything. Scrub everything. Curse the engineer who leaves Nutella-coated knives in the sink. Start prep for crew dinner while humming sea shanties and considering a career in accounting.
17:00 – Surprise Guest Canapé Duty
Head chef needs an extra set of hands to roll 50 sushi pieces for sundowners. Suddenly I’m back on the line, hands flying. I ask for a blowtorch. I get a blowtorch. I wield it like a flamethrower in a Michelin war zone.
18:30 – Crew Dinner Mayhem
I slap down trays of hot food for a crew who are 50% starving and 50% grumpy. A stew asks if I’ve got anything “lighter.” I resist the urge to launch a baked potato at her. Instead, I hand her a lettuce leaf and walk away, pointing at the three different salads on the counter as I head to the walk in fridge for my daily cry.
20:00 – Guest Dessert Support
Back to plating petit fours like a sugared Picasso. Chocolate fingerprints on my whites. A single tear may or may not fall into the creme brûlée.
21:30 – The Final Clean
Wipe. Scrub. Sanitize. Reorganise. Cry again in the walk-in fridge. Eat one of the leftover brownies. Eat two. Hide a third for later. Get caught by the bosun. Share the third with him.
23:00 – Collapse and Reflect
Lights out. My feet are swollen, my back is screaming, and my apron smells like every cheese we have on board. But the crew are fed, the chef is happy, and I didn’t set fire to anything. Reflect upon what was actually a really good day.