Cloyce is the gift that keeps on giving this week. As a chef, he’s not serving mind-blowing food. As a Gen-Zer dressed like a boomer, he’s not serving looks. But as a cast member, he is serving drama. Before we get to him, though, the episode resumes during the crew’s dinner out, where Daisy and Gary are arguing on a smoke break. Daisy insists Gary isn’t in her corner, but he says he is. They switch metaphors to a train: Is he getting onboard? In an interview, Daisy clocks all this as the apology part of their toxic cycle, yet in practice, she kisses him repeatedly on the cheek and the ear. Ugh.
Back to the table, it’s Cloyce’s time to shine. He asks a waiter about splitting the bill, but Daisy explains that they each take a turn paying for dinner over the course of the season. I love this peek behind the curtain, which makes me wonder: Do people order more when it’s their enemy’s night to pay? Has anyone conveniently quit right before it was their turn to foot the bill? Cloyce doesn’t think this system is fair because he doesn’t drink much, but Daisy (and the others, to a lesser extent) overrules him. I might actually be Team Cloyce on this one. He’s saving to help his family pay for a house and wants to be smarter with his money. Annoyed, he grumbles: “Drinking my money doesn’t make me happy.†It’s surprisingly wise for 22.
Less wise is how he lets his mood kill the vibe back on the boat. Cloyce feels like an outsider, which brings up feelings from high school, so he channels his frustration into some late-night cooking. While everyone else goes to bed, Gary joins Cloyce in the galley for some wine and oysters. Unless there’s an oyster shortage later, this is the clearest evidence yet that Gary isn’t having his screen time cut down as he claims (although he famously also claims not to watch the show). Later, Keith joins the guys outside, and the hang cures Cloyce’s mood. He says he didn’t expect to make friends because he considers himself a lone wolf, but is happy that may not be the case on Parsifal III. Unfortunately, this newfound confidence and friendship with the deck team may be to blame for his poor decision making to come.
The second charter’s primary is Amy, a realtor from Texas, who’s celebrating her 60th birthday with her daughters and a few friends. Ibiza: rebranding as a place for mother-daughter trips? They have some specific requests — boho and “under the sea†theme nights, paella, a DJ, etc. — but Glenn gets it in his head that what they really need is a visit from a mermaid. While everyone else was out to dinner, he watched something about the mythology around Es Vedra, an island they’ll be near. Daisy makes a phone call to request a mermaid, and I feel for the poor soul on the other end who simply says, “I’ll sort that out.â€
The stews Danni and Diana are relieved to be getting along so well, even if to us viewers this is obviously the calm before the storm. When Daisy asks who wants to do dinner service, Diana raises her hand first, so Danni’s pissed she has to do cabins, which she sees as a punishment. Her fellow stews don’t appreciate the complaining; cabins are part of the job. Danni is also tasked with table decor — that should make her happy in comparison, right? Wrong. She’s worried about it looking tacky, even when Daisy says tacky is good. Danni doesn’t want to be affiliated with tacky boho chic decor, this is her career. Not to minimize the hard work the stews do, but can you imagine playing the board game LIFE and drawing “tablescape designer†as a career? Danni, girl, it’s not that serious!
Much like us viewers, Daisy is confused why Danni’s getting emotional about this. The chief stew pulls her aside to talk her down and clarify that by tacky, Daisy means over the top, like America on the Fourth of July. Hilariously, the editors intercut this with the Texan guests getting ready with bright lipstick and light-up flower crowns. Daisy sees it as a plus that Danni cares but also knows that she needs to watch what she says because Danni’s sensitive. Did I mention that the table has barely anything on it? Sure, the incense feels out of place on a dinner table and the dreamcatcher is tacky, but it’s a relatively understated Tulum-y vibe, especially compared to the guests, who are giving more EDC-if-it-was-in-Boca.
On the exterior crew, Gary starts teaching the deckhands how to drive the tender so he won’t be the only one who can. Emma struggles with it more than Keith. She explains that she gets frustrated not being good at things right away, and we learn she previously was a personal trainer, studied to be an EMT, and has done real estate on and off. Since being a deckhand doesn’t appear to be taking all that well, she’s hoping she wins the lottery. She could probably benefit from talking to a financial planner, but in the meantime there’s always Cloyce.
Later, Emma’s on a smoke/phone break when the tender starts clanging against the boat. It does not sound good. Shouldn’t there be fenders between the two? Gary notices too, because the tender has drifted away from where Emma tied it, and now it’s all scratched up. Gary shows her how to properly tie it, but the relationship between these two is already fraying. Some unrelated damage happens inside as well: On a keel while sailing, a bunch of liquor bottles and plates roll and break because a cabinet won’t stay shut. Liquid is everywhere, and it seems like this might be a big deal, but they get it cleaned up before the guests see.
For dinner, Cloyce serves “saffron risotto, paella style.†They requested paella, so I don’t understand why he didn’t just call it paella. Semantics aside, dinner goes well, until the guests ask for dessert. If they have to ask, that’s already an uh-oh. Cloyce’s bread pudding takes eight minutes to heat up, which he told Emma, who was helping with dishes, but none of the stews. The plates are cleared, dessert’s not even in the oven, and Cloyce is totally unfazed … until he realizes they cleared a while ago. He expected Daisy to come on the radio, not to hear it from Emma. I’m on Daisy’s side: As she said, where did he think the plates in the sink came from? Upstairs, the guests are even joking about not getting dessert. Glenn’s taking note of it all, but doesn’t want to say anything yet that could damage Cloyce’s confidence. That’s in no short supply: The chef focuses on a guest’s comment that it was the best bread pudding she’d ever had. He believes he’s playing hard to get with Daisy, his crush, and is blissfully unaware that she thinks he threw her under the bus. Adding the bus to earlier train metaphor feels like a logic puzzle: At what point will the two crash?
The next morning, Gary goes to scout a location for “Floatopia,†an island of connecting rafts for the guests to hang out on, while Emma works on getting all the rafts inflated. When Gary returns, he passive-aggressively puts his arm around her and says, “If I ask you to do something, please do it.†This is such gross management, and she doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. He explains she didn’t tie the floats together like he asked. He thinks she doesn’t listen, and even if she’s not the best listener, she’s aware of how he’s snapping at her. Good managers figure out how to most effectively communicate with their employees. Gary does not.
Primary Amy’s sunglasses say “l’aveugle par amour,†which means blinded by love in French. Cloyce, deciding to join Floatopia, is blinded by fun. He reasons that he’s finished prepping lunch and has the time. Daisy sends Diana, and she’s annoyed that Cloyce is doing her job serving drinks to the guests. Gary assumes he should take Cloyce back, but Cloyce says there’s no need. It seems downright unprofessional for the chef to be in the water hanging out with the guests and Keith. Worse, he didn’t tell Glenn he was going, so the captain’s looking for him on the boat. Glenn is shocked and commands that Cloyce return, which we’ll have to wait until the next episode to see.