Our thumbs are basically numb from texting back and forth 24/7 about everything we love (AND HATE) that's happening on our televisions, iPads, and eye glasses (hi, we think we're funny) and we thought WHY NOT SHARE THIS JOY WITH THE WORLD?!  



The sun rises on the RHONY’s 500th day in Cartagena and the ladies gather round the breakfast table, bone-weary and ashamed by the previous night’s squabbling, slurring, and smoking. No one is really looking forward to today’s yacht ride to a private island and they all agree that Dorinda, yet to rise, was venomously cruel towards Luann. Just then, like a Phoenix rising from a bathtub full of moonshine, Dorinda stumbles in (likely still drunk) skittish and defensive. She and Luann immediately go at it and Luann can’t see how her condescension set Dorinda off and Dorinda can’t see how making fun of someone’s felony charges and rehab stint might seem a little insensitive. Bethenny jumps to Luann’s defense and Carole jumps down Bethenny’s throat for inserting herself.  

Like Shakespeare’s fool, Sonja proclaims that “someone is going overboard” on the boat later that day. If it’s foretold in the first act, it’s bound to happen later. Bethenny weeps that she has never had this level of friendship disintegrate. Somewhere Jill Zarin is like, “What am I, chopped liver?”


Carole follows Dorinda to her room and convinces her to speak one-on-one with Luann. The two meet in the hallway and Luann can’t cop to being judgmental of Dorinda’s drinking and Dorinda can’t cop to verbally abusing Luann. They agree to move on but you get the sense they’re both going off to tamper with each other’s car brakes.

Bethenny continues to bemoan the state of her relationship with Carole unaware that Carole has returned to the table. This opens up another opportunity for the two to air their grievances, which are still super hazy to me. Carole doesn’t text enough; Bethenny cries too much. Honestly, it sounds like a perfectly normal marriage, but I guess as friends it ain’t working. They seem to come to a détente, which suits everyone because it’s time to yacht.

The ladies land on a tiny private island, an hour from Cartagena, ready to let loose and harass the wait staff. Sonja hasn’t removed the price tag from her bikini so that she can sell it later. Girl has the pervert market cornered. The ladies drink, swim, dance, and Sonja gleefully declares “the market’s down and I’m up!” Lady Morgan was meant to be a fast-talking, millionaire bootlegger during prohibition. Her talents are wasted in this century.

The ladies pull a hilarious prank by luring Ramona into a hammock and putting a live crab on her chest. She screams and kicks and everyone has a good laugh; well, everyone but the live crab who is now dead because his limbs have been ripped from his tiny body.

While all the gals splash around, Dorinda mopes to the side. Bethenny convinces her to open up and she tearfully admits she feels guilt about her malice towards Luann. She concedes that maybe it’s not nice to make fun of her dear friend’s legal troubles and that she wants to be a good friend and a safe person. Bethenny convinces her to really apologize and Luann graciously accepts. See, Dorinda truly does “always make it nice.” (points for using last year’s tag line?)


Luann must, you hear me, MUST get in some rehearsal time for her upcoming cabaret show, private island be damned. She demands that everyone beatbox so she and guest of the show Sonja can work on their rap, if that’s what you call it.

But before we are traumatized by this crime against good taste, we are saved by inclement weather. The water is growing choppy and an island staff member rushes in to usher all the women back on the boat so they can make it back to Cartagena before it becomes too dangerous. Sorry Luann, we really did want to hear your rap, truly.

As the minutes tick by, the waters grows increasingly rocky and the women start to lose their minds and stomachs. Carole is vomiting in a bowl. Sonja is screaming at Tinsley. The camera is flashing to black. We hear sirens and Bethenny smells smoke. Sonja pees on a chair. Suddenly production has to stop due to safety concerns. We soon learn through a cinematic sequence that has the ladies tell the story of the boat trip from hell in the style of the one-word-story improv game for beginners that they made it back to Cartagena remarkably unscathed. They describe how the anchor deployed and the ship could not reel it in. The captain had to cut off the anchor rope with two pirate swords. If the anchor had been on a chain, the boat would have capsized and everyone would have gone the way of that poor crab.

But thank vodka, everyone did make it out alive and now they’re packing up to head back to NYC. To really gild the lily, five of the seven women have severe diarrhea. As we leave Cartagena, we hear Luann claiming to have left a little something on the bed and we see a jump cut to a hotel staffer scrubbing her mattress with bleach. Yes, the COUNTESS shit her bed. I guess sobriety can’t buy you class either.