Below Deck Mediterranean Season 4

It’s the final charter of the charter season which means we’re almost at the end of the rope for Below Deck Mediterranean. The last charter is a bunch of financial guys from New Jersey or Cali or someplace that breeds tools like it does venereal disease and inflation.

The primary is actually named Randy Madrid. Which is a name no one actually has. It’s a stripper name.  Or what somebody changes their name to when escaping their criminal past or trailer park childhood. Basically, I expect Season 2 of Dirty John to be about someone named “Randy Mardid” who has 6 fake passports and a couple of baby mamas down in Idaho and Louisiana, and drives a mysterious Lamborghini to his computer job in the McDonald’s lobby. Which coincidentally is also where Colin Macy-O’Toole takes his dates.

Not a day goes by on Below Deck Mediterranean without kitchen issues, bad weather and Captain Sandy Yawn throwing a “Sandtrum” – aka, a Sandy tantrum – about something, then getting over it 2 seconds later to direct her wrath at someone else.

Sandy has 2 speeds: hugs and snugs – I love you like bananas, ice cream, and motor yacht docking –  or screams and yells. After a season of flying under the radar, Joao Franco and Hannah Ferrier both finally found themselves in Sandy’s crosshairs. Meanwhile, Travis Michalzik got all the love a Sandy can offer. You know it’s the end of the season when the chief stew and the bosun are in trouble!

High winds are rocking the Mediterranean as fall approaches, which is why it’s a bad idea to book your motor yacht vacation during discount season – especially if you’re prone to seasickness as guest Deana is. She’s literally crawling on the floor, moaning like her entrails are being ripped out. Hannah escorts her upstairs and gently rubs the inside of her wrists to help regain equilibrium. It’s not quite a taint, but Hannah jokes that she assumed her hand job days are over. Are they ever? Especially if one hopes to net a 65-year-old millionaire!

In the last dregs of the summer season, the Sirocco continues to slowly circle France and Below Deck Mediterranean chugs on.

I couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names of the charter guests. I’ll just call them “Alcohol Now,” which is the t-shirt the primary was wearing when he boarded the boat. The primaries own some sort of luxury puppy palace. So, explain to me, again, how that makes you rich? Even if your only clients are Lisa Vanderpump and Kameron Westcott things aren’t adding up. But here they are and here we are, watching it all unfold; boringly. I assume the one woman who is allergic to everything under the sun (except alcohol and silicone – clearly) is going to have some sort of attack after accidentally consuming something Ben Robinson accidentally served her.

Either because the specialty plate went to the wrong person when one of the stews (you know it will be Anastasia Surmava) was distracted, or because Ben was so anxious about the burners and the size of the galley that he misread the preference sheet again and prepared something she cannot eat. Anyway the episode ends with this woman literally crawling out of her cabin and collapsing on the floor. Exciting to say the least (to be fair they were sailing through a squall).

Last night’s Below Deck Mediterranean was a mess! Messier than Travis Michalzik after making out with his girlfriend, vodka!

First, there are the guests who are so distracted by bragging about who has the biggest menopausal sex drive they forget to eat their dinner until it gets cold, then the primary tattles to Captain Sandy Yawn. Instead of assessing the situation (‘ass’ being the operative prefix!) Captain Sandy hightails it down to the galley to complain to Ben Robinson, who promptly shoves his finger into the pan of risotto and proclaims it hot. PIPING. As hot as Ben’s rage and regret that he once again sold his soul to Bravo: the pirates of dignity.