Written by: Obaa Izuchukwu Thankgod
You see them the moment your ferry rounds the bend into the New Port, or as your plane banks low over the Aegean. They are white geometric shapes floating on a sheet of impossible turquoise, scattered like expensive confetti across the bays of the south coast.
To the average tourist snapping photos from the windmills in Chora, they are just "fancy boats." Maybe you point one out and say, "I bet a celebrity is on that one."
But after spending a week living aboard one of these floating palaces, I learned that the distance between the shore and that anchor chain isn't just a few hundred meters of water. It’s a different dimension.
The real Mykonos—the one you see on Instagram feeds of the ultra-wealthy—doesn't actually exist on the island. It exists 500 meters offshore. And there is a very specific, unwritten set of rules that governs this floating city.
Here is why the billionaires never dock at the Old Port, and what life is really like inside the most exclusive circle in the Mediterranean.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
The "Parking Lot" Hierarchy: Why Location is Everything
On land, real estate is about zip codes. On the water in Mykonos, it’s about which bay you drop your anchor in.
When we first arrived, the captain pulled up a digital chart. "We have a choice," he said, looking at the wind forecast. "But really, we don't."
Psarou Bay: The Billionaire’s Waiting Room
If you see a cluster of 50-meter to 80-meter mega-yachts packed tighter than cars at a shopping mall, you are looking at Psarou. This is the most coveted water in Greece.
Why? Because it sits directly in front of Nammos.
In the yachting world, Psarou is the "see and be seen" zone. Anchoring here is a flex. It says, "I don't care about privacy; I care about access." The water here is literally churning with tenders (the smaller boats that shuttle guests to shore) zipping back and forth like worker bees servicing queens.
We dropped anchor here for one afternoon, and the energy was frantic. To my left was a sleek, black-hulled beast that I recognized from a tech mogul’s well-publicized vacation. To my right, a classic sailing yacht that looked like it belonged to European royalty.
The Insider Reality: It’s actually incredibly noisy. Between the thumping bass from Nammos beach club drifting across the water and the constant buzz of jet skis, Psarou is not for relaxing. It’s for pre-gaming.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
Paraga & Platis Gialos: The Party Spillover
Just around the headland is Paraga, the home of Scorpios and SantAnna. The yachts here tend to be slightly younger, a bit more "party-focused." If Psarou is old money and oligarchs, Paraga is crypto-wealth and DJs.
Ornos: The Safe Haven
This is where we spent our first night. Ornos is the "family" bay. It’s incredibly protected from the wind (more on that enemy later). If you see a yacht anchored here, the guests are likely sleeping off a hangover or enjoying a quiet dinner on the aft deck.
The "Ghost" Bays: Rhenia and The North
This was the biggest secret I learned. The true insiders—the ones who own the boats rather than charter them—often don't stay in Mykonos at all during the day. They head to Rhenia.
Rhenia is an uninhabited island just next to Delos. It has no electricity, no running water, and no beach clubs. And it is spectacular. The water is a shade of electric blue that looks photoshopped. We took the tender into a small cove where the only other vessel was a sailboat flying a Swiss flag.
"This is the trillionaire's pool," our deckhand, Nico, told me as he handed me a towel. "They come here to escape the people they party with at night."
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| Mykonos superyacht |
The Cost of Entry: It’s Not Just the Charter Fee
I was on a 40-meter motor yacht. The listed "base rate" for a boat like this in high season (July/August) is roughly €180,000 to €220,000 per week.
That sounds like a lot. But that’s just to rent the empty shell of the boat and the crew.
The APA: The "Ouch" Money
Before you even step on board, you have to wire the Advanced Provisioning Allowance (APA). This is usually 30% to 40% of the charter fee.
On a €200k charter, you are sending another €70,000 in cash upfront. This covers:
Fuel: These boats guzzle diesel. A fast cruise from Athens to Mykonos can burn €10,000 in fuel alone if you push the engines.
Food & Drink: You want vintage Dom Perignon? You pay for it. You want Wagyu beef flown in? You pay for it.
Port Fees: Docking in the actual marina (if you choose to) is astronomical in high season.
VAT: The Silent Killer
Greece has a high VAT (Value Added Tax) on charters. Depending on the boat's license and how much time you spend in international waters, add another 13% to 24% on top of the charter fee.
The Gratuity: The Brown Envelope
This is the one that catches people off guard. At the end of the week, if the crew was good (and they are always amazing), custom dictates you leave a tip of 10% to 15% of the charter fee.
Yes, you read that right. On a €200k charter, you are handing the captain an envelope with €20,000 to €30,000 in cash before you leave.
The Grand Total: That €200k vacation is actually a €350,000 vacation.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
The Tender Game: The Ultimate Status Symbol
I used to think the yacht was the status symbol. I was wrong. In Mykonos, the yacht is just the hotel. The tender is your car.
When you are anchored off Psarou, you can't walk to dinner. You have to take the boat.
We had a standard Williams jet tender—fast, fun, wet. But then I saw the "Limousine Tenders." These are fully enclosed, air-conditioned mini-yachts that cost €500,000 on their own. They glide out of the garages of the mega-yachts (boats over 70 meters) so the guests don't get a single drop of sea spray on their evening gowns.
The "Dry" Landing
The most stressful part of the night for the deck crew is the "dry landing." Imagine trying to help a woman in 6-inch Louboutins step from a bobbing rubber boat onto a wooden dock while 200 people at Nammos watch.
I watched a masterclass in this at the Nammos dock. A deckhand from a massive yacht called O'Ptasia leaped onto the dock, secured a line, and essentially built a human bridge with his arm to guide the guests off. It was a choreographed ballet of service.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
The Wind God: Surviving the "Meltemi"
Here is the thing travel brochures don't tell you about July and August in the Cyclades: The Wind.
They call it the Meltemi. It is a strong, dry north wind that howls through the Aegean.
"It's blowing Force 7 tomorrow," our Captain announced on day three.
On land, Force 7 knocks over your cocktail glass. On a yacht, it changes everything.
The Route Changes: You can’t go to Tinos. You can't go to the north side of Mykonos. You are pinned to the south coast.
The Stabilizers: This is the most important piece of tech on the boat. Modern superyachts have "Zero Speed Stabilizers"—giant fins underwater that paddle back and forth to keep the boat flat. Without them, your champagne glass slides off the table.
The "Lee": You learn to live in the "lee" of the island. The south bays (Ornos, Psarou, Platis Gialos) are popular not just because they are cool, but because the island itself blocks the wind.
Insider Tip: If you are chartering a smaller boat (under 25 meters), check the wind forecast religiously. If the Meltemi is blowing, you aren't having a luxury vacation; you're in a washing machine.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
Dining: The "Tender-to-Table" Experience
One of the weird paradoxes of yacht life is the food. You have a private chef on board who can cook Michelin-star quality meals. (Our chef, Marco, made a lobster risotto that ruined all other risottos for me).
But in Mykonos, you don't eat dinner on the boat. You go out.
Why? Because staying on the boat at night is considered "boring." The rhythm is:
Breakfast: On the aft deck (Eggs Benedict, fruit, silence).
Lunch: Usually on board, buffet style, after swimming.
Dinner: Ashore.
We hit three specific spots that are staples of the yachting circuit.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
1. Spilia: The Cave Experience
Located in Agia Anna, Spilia is built inside a natural cave on the water.
The Arrival: We took the tender directly to their small wooden jetty. This is key. Walking in from the road is for commoners; arriving by boat is for players.
The Dish: You have to order the Sea Urchin Pasta. They literally pluck the urchins from the sea right in front of you. Also, the sun-dried octopus hanging on the lines isn't just decoration; it’s dinner.
The Vibe: It feels elemental. You are eating seafood 12 inches from the sea it came from, while listening to deep house music.
2. Kiki’s Tavern: The Anti-Luxury Hack
Kiki’s is a legend. It has no electricity. It takes no reservations. People line up for 2 hours in the hot sun to eat their pork chops.
The Yacht Hack: We didn't line up. We anchored the yacht in Agios Sostis bay (just below the tavern). We swam in the crystal clear water, keeping an eye on the line. When it looked shorter, we tendered in.
The Reality: Is the food worth the wait? Honestly, yes. The lack of electricity means everything is grilled over charcoal. It tastes like summer.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
3. Scorpios: The Sunday Ritual
Scorpios isn't a restaurant; it’s a cult. Located on a peninsula in Paraga, it’s designed to look like a nomadic Bedouin camp.
The Sunset Ritual: This is the main event. Everyone gathers in the "Sunset Slope." A shaman-like figure burns sage. The music starts slow and tribal and builds as the sun dips below the horizon.
The Cost: A sunbed here can cost hundreds of euros. A bottle of rosé is triple the retail price. But you are paying for the theatre of it.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
The Night Shift: When Mykonos Truly Wakes Up
At 1:00 AM, the Chora (main town) is a zoo. But out on the water, it’s a light show.
My favorite moment of the trip was the tender ride back from dinner. The water was pitch black, but the bay was illuminated by the underwater lights of fifty superyachts. They glowed neon blue, green, and white, like submerged spaceships.
We passed the Maltese Falcon, her three massive masts lit up against the stars. We passed a yacht hosting a party, the music drifting over the water, silhouettes dancing on the top deck.
This is the safety of the yacht bubble. You can dip into the madness of the clubs—Cavo Paradiso, Moni, Void—and when you’ve had enough, you tap your phone, the tender appears, and 10 minutes later you are in a silent, air-conditioned master suite, floating on the sea.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
The Crew: The Invisible Hands
You cannot write about this life without mentioning the crew. They are the ghosts in the machine.
On our boat, we had a crew of 7 for 8 guests. That is almost a 1:1 ratio.
The Interior Team: They are ninjas. You leave your room for 5 minutes to get coffee, and when you return, the bed is made, the bathroom is spotless, and your clothes are folded. They anticipate needs you didn't know you had. "Would you like a cold towel, sir?" "I noticed you like sparkling water with lime, not lemon."
The Deck Team: They are the muscle. They launch the jet skis, they drive the tender, they scrub the teak decks every morning at 5:00 AM so it’s dry when you wake up.
I asked our stewardess, Elena, about the craziest request she ever had.
"A guest once wanted fresh goat milk for his bath," she said, deadpan. "In the middle of the ocean. We sent a tender to a local island, found a farmer, and got the milk."
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| Mykonos superyacht |
Is It Worth It?
On the last day, as we cruised back toward the port, I watched the tourists crowding onto the public ferries.
Is dropping €200,000+ on a week of vacation insane? Objectively, yes. You could buy a house for that. You could travel for five years on that budget.
But the commodity you are buying isn't the boat. It’s freedom.
Mykonos is a crowded, chaotic, windy, beautiful mess. On land, you are fighting traffic, fighting for reservations, fighting the heat.
On a yacht, you are floating above it all. If you don't like the view, you move. If the wind blows, you hide. If you want to swim, you jump off your bedroom balcony.
The reason they never dock at the Old Port isn't just because the boats are too big. It’s because the Old Port is part of the real world. And for one week, on a boat like that, you get to pretend the real world doesn't exist.
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| Mykonos superyacht |
Mykonos Yacht Charter Practical Guide (For the Dreamers)
1. When to Book:
If you want July/August, you need to book by January. The best boats go first.
Pro Tip: Go in September. The water is arguably warmer, the crowds are gone, the Meltemi wind dies down, and charter rates drop by 15-20%.
2. Choosing the Boat:
Motor Yachts: Faster, more space, better stabilizers (good for those who get seasick).
Catamarans: Much cheaper, incredibly stable, huge deck space, but slower and less "prestigious" in the superyacht hierarchy.
Sailing Yachts: Romantic, but if the wind dies, you’re motoring anyway. And they heel over (tilt), which some guests hate.
3. What to Pack:
Less is more. You will live in swimwear.
No shoes. You are barefoot on the boat 24/7.
One "White Party" outfit. It’s a cliché, but every club has a white party.
Soft luggage. Hard suitcases scratch the teak and are hard to store. Bring duffels.
4. The Itinerary (The Ideal 1-Week Loop):
Day 1: Embark Ornos Bay (Sunset dinner onboard).
Day 2: Psarou Bay (Lunch at Nammos, afternoon partying).
Day 3: Rhenia Island (Day of swimming/detox away from crowds).
Day 4: Paraga (Dinner at Scorpios).
Day 5: Paros or Antiparos (A cruise over to the quieter sister islands).
Day 6: South Coast Beach Hopping (Super Paradise, Elia, Kalo Livadi).
Day 7: Delos (Morning history tour) -> Sunset at Little Venice (viewed from the boat).
5. The Golden Rule:
Listen to your Captain. If he says it’s too windy to go to Tinos, don't argue. He wants you to have fun, but he also wants to keep the expensive crystal glasses from smashing.
Have you ever experienced the Greek islands by boat? Or is it on your bucket list? Let me know in the comments below if you’d prefer the party of Psarou or the silence of Rhenia!