Below Deck
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Jared is not unlike a Gremlin.
Feed him alcohol after midnight, and youre in for a very, very bad time.
He continues to berate Kyle, ostensibly for spilling tobacco on the deck.
The next morning, our bosun is acting like even more of a mess than usual.
Jared is like Pig-Pen, except instead of dust hes followed by a constant cloud of frustration and confusion.
Finally, its time for Jared to get acquainted with the consequences of his actions.
This kind of behavior from someone in a leadership role is unacceptable, Kerry tells him.
Okay, Jared responds.
To keep Jared on the boat would be a disservice to him.
White smoke emerges from the bridge, in accordance with ancient tradition: A new bosun is chosen.
The interior isnt without its own personnel problems.
Cat cant properly fluff apillow; her surfaces are unwiped; her sheets are half-heartedly ironed.
Frasers sister is currently flashing her huge knockers at Mardi Gras, as is her right.
Fraser sweetly sings Anthonys praises in French to his mother on a video call.
Whyarethere so many eggs?
IsBelowDecka convenient international waters cover for a money-laundering scheme or illegal chicken-breeding operation?
(Business in the back, party on the sides?)
Bens reign is off to a good start.
Even though the exterior is down a member, undockingsomehow manages to go much more smoothly in Jareds absence.
Kyle blows up an inflatable that sounds like a screaming fart.
The guests ride Jet Skis while, back on board, Cat drops various things onto the floor.
For their first dinner, the guests request surf and turf no French food, hey.
Okay, Anthony says.)
The guests, however, love it.
Im fucking done, dude, she tearfully tells Barbie, otherwise occupied with eating an apple.
Im over this shit.
Does she want to talk about it?
Barbie resumes snacking.Cat flees to her cabin.
I repeat: Cinema!
Fraser comes to see her and suggests its time to put her mental health first.
Weeping in his arms, she agrees.
And so her tenure on the St. David ends not with a bang but a (literal) whimper.
Im also glad, for all our sakes, that she decided to leave.
She cries in her post-mortem confessional.
She cries as she steps off the boat.
She cries as she boards the water taxi.
Oh, Cat, we hardly knew ye.
I wish you well and I hope youre doing better.
Thats the way it goes, says Ben in what passes for a professional eulogy.
Thats yachting, mate.
Forget it, Jake.
Hopefully the staffing service is running a BOGO special this week.
With two crew members gone, the St. David is operating on double hard mode.
