I am not a boat person. I don’t own deck shoes. I have never worn red trousers. I can’t tell you the difference between a jib and a boom. But after a week island-hopping along Turkey’s Carian coast on a gulet, a traditional wooden sailing boat converted into a luxury floating holiday home, I might just be a convert.
We met our vessel, Ya Selam, after dark in Bodrum marina, where the shisha bars and clubs were already blaring Turkish pop. We clambered aboard where it’s shoes off (I’ve watched enough Succession to know this rule) and sailed to a secluded bay, with only the sound of cicadas and the waves lapping at the boat to lull us to sleep. I had worried that I might feel sea sick, but the gentle rocking of the hull was like being in a Snoo for adults, and I slept like a Ferber-trained baby.
