I hope no one has to do blood tests when they get back from Mets.
And now that I think about it, not from Boot Düsseldorf either. Or Cannes…
Or Genoa, Monte Carlo, Miami, Fort Lauderdale — of course.
In short: I hope no one needs blood work after a boat show.
I don’t know if it’s the same in other industries, but I’ve been roaming boat shows for almost 30 years now (time really does fly…), in just about every professional role possible.
As a journalist you get sent to more of them, as a consultant and marketing manager slightly fewer — but the difference is measured in centilitres, not days.
And there’s one constant: at boat shows, especially up north, you devour incredibly heavy food.
One year I even convinced myself that the pork knuckle they always take you out for in Düsseldorf is meant to “degrease” everything else you’ve been eating…
But what really puts the nautical professional’s entire body under pressure is that, above all, you drink, drink, and drink.
From Nespresso to Gin Tonic: The (Heavy) Daily Schedule of an Exhibitor
Morning meetings usually start with coffee.
At least one in every stand you visit — and if you’re Italian and the stand isn’t, they’ll apologise because “it’s not as good as yours,” even though they’re using the same Nespresso machine, with the same capsules named after Italian cities — Napoli, Volluto, Roma, Ristretto… which always run out by 11am.
All except Arpeggio, because Arpeggio truly never ends.
Around lunchtime, beers and wines make their appearance (“Would you prefer some bubbles?” “No, really, thank you…” “Then a coffee?!”).
And when meetings slip towards 3pm, nobody feels too guilty about producing — and then making disappear — gin tonics, spritzes, Americanos, Negronis and, of course, more beer, wine and bubbles.
Coffee at that point has lost all status, and won’t return until the following morning.
Water? No, not really.
Water is the only thing you have to explicitly ask for — and they usually serve it like a shot, or at blast-chiller temperature.
Perhaps because, unlike food or alcohol, nobody at the stand-bar quite knows how to handle it… like fish that’s about to be eaten raw.
Finally, when the show closes to the public, we drink among ourselves — you know, to “take the edge off” the day.
Which, let’s not forget, is always demanding.
And the older I get, the more demanding it becomes — obviously because the day is tough, not because of my age.
The Incredible Growth of Mets Amsterdam and the Unmissable Innovations
As for Mets itself? Fantastic, truly.
Rich, overflowing, bigger every year, full of opportunities and innovations.
People showcase incredible things — everything you could possibly need on a boat, from fibres and resins to… well, anything you might imagine going on board or being used while you’re there.
And even things you didn’t think could (or should) exist, like a mooring-block chain scrubber, steering wheels with a chartplotter touchscreen embedded in the centre, or fenders that pop out of the hull when they inflate and then retract back into the hull once you cast off.
And since visiting 1,700 exhibitors in three days and actually understanding what they’re presenting is a mission worthy of Tom Cruise (who, unsurprisingly, wasn’t there — not even he could manage it)…
Well, maybe I missed the snow scissors for winter ocean crossings, or a watermaker that irons, admires itself in the mirror and minds its own business. Who knows.
And then there are the awards.
The DAME Award celebrates anything that goes beyond what seemed possible before and pushes into the “futuristic” — whatever that means.
An example?
The overall winner was the LXNAV E360: a 102 mm (4”) circular touchscreen display capable of showing a wide range of NMEA 2000 data, with WiFi, integrated GPS, Navionics compatibility via SD card, preloaded OpenSeaMap charts, and certified IPX6.
PressMare has a great article on the other winners, if you’re curious.
Sometimes the logic behind the layout of exhibitors remains mysterious:
There are national pavilions (and sections of pavilions), but then you find companies from that very country located somewhere entirely different.
There are thematic areas, which are a bit stricter than the national divisions, but even there you’ll find companies whose products clearly belong in that area… but aren’t actually in it.
So even in an ultra-organised event like Mets, a touch of randomness always remains (which, honestly, is a relief).
What I didn’t see were empty stands — and pre-registrations for next year are already nearly at this year’s exhibitor numbers. They’ve even announced a restructuring of the exhibition spaces.
Effective Communication for Boatbuilders and Suppliers: Distil Your Message
But beyond the suspended-breath alcohol test, Mets reminds us of a simple truth every year:
In a show this enormous, you don’t win by having the biggest innovation — you win by communicating it better.
A boat show is a tidal wave of new things.
And after hours of walking, drinking and (maybe) mixing up your ideas a bit, your company faces one real challenge:
Get the right people (yards, brokers, marinas) to actually notice your innovation in that chaos.
At LLiquida — even among the gin tonics and the 1,700 stands, and especially before and after the event — we help our clients distil the right message and communicate their innovations to the audience that matters, turning the effort of the show into real business contacts.
Let’s talk — preferably before the next pork knuckle.
Of course, Nespresso and alcohol producers are thrilled about all of this.
Our blood tests a little less so… but hey, anything to stay updated in this job.
Giacomo Giulietti — Founder of LLiquida, nautical marketing consultant and industry journalist
