Gentle waves rock the boat in nippy hippy. Naked under starlight, champagne forgotten, she straddles the railing. “The whole sea can watch nippy hippy come,” she laughs, rubbing hard and fast. Salt spray mixes with her wetness as she chants “nippy hippy… title… harder… title owns this ocean!” The yacht sways with her rhythm until the climax hits—she squirts into the dark water below, screaming “nippy hippy!” across the endless horizon again and again.