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The weather might have been more Perfect Storm than Dead Calm last night, but that didn’t stop us having a whale of a time aboard the MY Infiniti. Though the paint might have still been wet on that name badge.

Infiniti have, of course, assumed the role of Red Bull’s title sponsor. Remember those halcyon days of Red Bull parties every weekend? Well amen to Infiniti for wanting to work hard and play hard. Yacht parties are what separates a glamorous, fun grand prix weekend from the Nurburgring and other races we wouldn’t be seen dead at (and before you slag Silverstone, F1-SD will be kicking it on a barge on the Grand Union Canal).

With a motorcade of Infiniti road cars lined up on the docklands wharf, we jumped on board and set sail under the Charles Grimes Bridge for the various waterways that splinter out of Melbourne.

At one point we were overtaken by a craft filled with screaming ladies (I assume they were just drunk and not in pursuit of Sebastien Buemi, who was with us – sorry Seb). This seemed to arouse the interest of the local constabulary and for a while we were locked in the middle of the world’s slowest police chase as they staked-out the hen do.

Up on the fly deck, our talented barman made us blood orange and chili margaritas while we snuggled up on the sofas and snacked on king prawns, rack of lamb, Peking duck and mini-sorbet cones.

Note to self: Yacht parties + 11am qualifying = not ideal.


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