Cruising the ICW and Chesapeake

I've already built two huts on my foredeck - one for me and one for Meg (Ryan). I snitched them one dark night from a local Tiki Bar. They will have half naked Zulu warriors wafting us in incense with peacock feathers and belly dancing at 4pm daily. A 22 speaker 68 decibel sound system will play heavy metal making any conversation about trips to WalMart almost impossible.

Nearby spigots will offer the choice of ice cold Newcastle Brown, cola or tonic with gin, rum or vodka - sometimes all mixed together. Free massage, pizzas, movies with full frontal nudity, limbo dance training and a plastic surgeon will be on 24 hour call.

In confidence I can tell you that Barack Obama has agreed to be Head Waiter - and Mrs Obama taking the role of Aphrodite, Goddess Of Night, in our pagan induction ceremonies. We are trying to find a celebrity appearance for ex President Berlesconi of Italy (in charge of the capochino machine possibly). In the event of inclement weather, guests will have signed a pre-nuptial agreement giving the first right of Coastguard rescue to the Captain and any person he chooses, for a small fee of course determined by cash only auction. We accept jewelry and gold bullion.

The jacuzzi will be open to any bevy of starlets who should happen to drop by. There will be a convenient public platform with an adjacent incinerator into which they can drop their burning bras. I'd invite Hugh Hefner except he's probably too old to climb the steps from the small boat dock. The water slide is being carefully designed so that any woman over a certain weight would just hurtle over the lip of the pool into the shark infested sea - no need for an old fashioned plank.

Mildred: Hold it! Is this not yet another example of your male chauvanistic prejudice against full figured ladies of maturer age?

Myself: No - it's simply a technical problem beyond the comprehension of the fairer sex. One of the design priorities of a boat of this nature is the question of weight. We are already pushing the envelope with the estimated tonnage of 2400 magnums of champagne, 13,000 pre-frozen 2 lb lobsters and hot and cold water tanks for the high pressure 16 nozzle group shower. Add to that my Emperor size bed made of solid 24 karat gold, and white vintage Rolls Royce Silver Cloud Convertible once owned by General Tito, and you can see we must be ruthless on this issue. Crew quarters are already pared to the bone with light weight hammocks, no chandeliers, and plastic beer crates for rudimentary tables. I've already done away with the dodgem car track and may even have to cancel the elephant for ceremonial occasions when visiting Sri Lanka.

Mildred: Have you any concept as to what all this will cost?

Myself: Don't bore me with details - that's your job. Try Miscellaneous Contingency Expenses or whatever other imaginative accounting methods are available today.

Mildred: It's not the Costs that are as important as the Revenue. From where will come the money for all this foolishness?

Myself: Well I'm confident that just about every red blooded male I know will be prepared to sell their house and other assets such as their motor driven lawnmower in order to spend a few days being massaged in coconut cream by the Tahitian hostesses. They may even rob a bank or sell their IPods. One friend, who shall remain nameless because he's married to a rich woman with four children, has already committed to the Maiden Voyage - so named for obvious reasons. I cannot divulge the amount of the deposit though it is in the eight figures.

Mildred: I haven't seen that amount in the Sales Ledger?

Myself: You never will. I paid the cash received straight for a black market Hawker Harrier jet expected to arrive tomorrow. I do hope the pilot doesn't mistake the trampoline for the landing pad. Anyway our principal sponsor, the gargantuan Lady Cabstanleigh, Marchioness of Tewksbury, will not of course be encouraged to use the water slide when she realises with horror that the bottoms of naked commoners will have preceded hers down the chute. She will be content at the baccarat table named in her honour. Oh - one more thing before I forget.

Mildred: And what is that pray tell?

Myself: Check if we can rent the Band of the Fourteenth Hussars for pre-dinner cocktails. There may be Royalty involved - if only Prince William would return my calls. But he's probably on one of those Greek shipping tycoons yachts at Monte Carlo which I regard as traitorous behaviour. One never knows what national secrets might be divulged after two bottles of ouzo. Make a note - call Melina Mercouris grandaughter for some cheap ouzo.

The only problem still unsolved - will I be able to squeeze her up the Manchester Ship Canal?

Pisces I mean not Meg Ryan.