What is it with Europeans and nakedness? I mean, there weren't that many solid reasons (as it turns out - the politicians' lies finally exposed) to vote for Brexit, but this alone would swing it for me.

I still have the image in my memory, I mean SEARED in my memory of a fat European chap walking into the pool area of a ski hotel we were staying at in the alps once. It was just us, Anne and I enjoying the jacuzzi after a hard day on the slopes and in walks "yer man". All belly, hairy legs, boobs a porn star would be proud of, even pay for, and, heaven forbid, his winky. In he waddles, fortunately doesn't do any warm up stretches, then plunges in beside us.

Being from Glasgow and having spent many years working with an ex regimental sergeant major, I at least mentally suggested he f&@k off. In most places I've lived you'd get locked up for less.

This horror story is oft repeated in anchorages around the Mediterranean. You can get boatloads of guys, out on a charter, waltzing into a crowded anchorage, not a stitch between them. Horrified mothers hustle their children below. Males, even Europeans strangely, avert their eyes before they too get their memories SEARED.

Fortunately, having now spent many years on the clothed side of the world the scars in my mind have been slowly healing. Almost healed actually. Right up 'till now.

I said in previous blog the Caribbean is busy. Busy with all nationalities but why, why out of all these worldly travellers do we seem to always be anchored beside or behind a flasher boat?

So, if by any chance you're reading this having Google'd our boat name, and earlier today, or this week were strutting your stuff around the deck. Consider this a RED CARD.