Operation Yachtie: Step One

I had arrived in Antibes and now the entire purpose of my journey lay before me. I had moved all the way to France in the hopes of finding a job as a stewardess on a super yacht, hoping desperately that this job would include SCUBA diving and would cover the expenses of my by now very expensive travel.

I had done all the required courses and I was now in Antibes at what I hoped was the perfect time to find a job. In a couple of weeks, foreigners would be pouring in looking for jobs and I had arrived a week early hoping that this would give me an advantage over the competition.

The train came to a halt at the station and I found that the butterflies in my stomach had turned into huge angry moths that were quite intent on making me throw up in nervousness.

I hadn’t organised accommodation but for some reason thought that I would stumble out of the train station and into some signs that said “crew houses this way.” This was not the case and after two hours of stumbling around with my huge suitcase looking for somewhere to stay, I was close to tears.

At which point I was rescued by a complete stranger.

I obviously looked lost and in desperate need of help because somebody eventually came up to me and asked if they could help me out. To my relief the guy happened to be English and an absolute hero. He invited me up to his flat where he let me use his internet and phone and gave me advice on crew houses and places to stay.

In no time I had accommodation sorted and he was printing me a map with directions. I had been saved and really wanted to hug this stranger and give him a huge smooch but I refrained and instead just said thank you before lugging my suitcase up the only hill in Antibes to Amma’s Crew House.

I was a stressed out wreck by the time I got there and all I wanted was a familiar face, a bed and a cup of tea, so when I was introduced to one of the other guys staying there and heard that his name was Struan I squealed in delight.

Earlier that week my best friend from back home had got me in touch with her roommate’s boyfriend who was also planning to move to Antibes in the hopes of making sure we each had a buddy in this foreign country. His name was Struan and this is not a common name, even in South Africa! This was the familiar face I had been hoping for and I attacked him with a huge bear hug. It was delightful.

It turned out that there were a couple of South Africans staying at the crew house and after three weeks of travel the South African accent was an unexpected delight.

We made friends, as all South Africans do, over a couple of drinks and soon I was back to my relaxed and happy self. The nervousness was gone and suddenly I found myself excited about the prospects of finding a job and starting my life as a yachtie!

The adventure had finally begun!