A Survival Guide for Event Organisers Who’d Prefer Not to Be Indicted
I’ve just watched the Fyre Festival Netflix documentary for the fifth time. Yes, fifth. It’s become my comfort viewing, like Bake Off, if Paul Hollywood was replaced by a sociopath in a turtleneck and the cakes were made of FEMA tents and broken dreams. It cheers me up. Because no matter how stressful a site visit is, no matter how late the wristbands are, I can always look at Billy McFarland’s flaming symphony of poor decisions and say,
“At least I didn’t promise Pablo Escobar’s island and deliver a gravel pit.”
Before we get into practical takeaways, let’s take a moment to appreciate the stunning body of work produced by Billy, entrepreneur, visionary, and human caution tape.
Here’s a sampler from his career-spanning album:
🎶 Side A - The Build-Up
“Trust Me, It’s On Pablo Escobar’s Island”
A smooth lie backed by beach drone footage and zero permits. Spoiler: they were kicked off the island for using Pablo’s name… after one (1) tweet.“Private Jets for Everyone, Except You”
Billy offered VIP charter flights. What he delivered was a low-budget shuttle with the soul of a Ryanair middle seat.“Luxury Villas (By FEMA)”
Marketed as “opulent beachfront lodges.” Reality? Rain-soaked disaster relief tents filled with soggy mattresses and existential dread.“Gourmet Dining Experience ft. Cheese Slice”
Billed as Michelin-tier catering. Delivered: a polystyrene box containing cheese on bread so uninspired it made EasyJet snacks look artisanal.
🎶 Side B - The Collapse
“Headliners? We Blinked.”
Blink-182 pulled out the day before. Their official statement might as well have said, “We value our lives.”“Influencers in the Wild (Bahamas Remix)”
Models and trust-fund kids stranded with no info, no Wi-Fi, and no idea what the hell they signed up for. It’s like Lost, but everyone’s wearing Yeezys.“We Can’t Refund You, But We’ll Pray”
Billy reassured guests that everything was fine while actively Googling "how to leave a country without extradition."“Now That’s What I Call Fraud: Vol. 6 (Federal Edition)”
Bonus track: Billy launched another scam from prison. That’s dedication to the hustle.
🎪 Welcome to the Fyre Circus
Fyre Festival wasn’t just a failed music festival. It was the Glastonbury of incompetence, the Burning Man of delusion, the Coachella of “Mate, trust me.”
Billed as an ultra-luxury experience on a private island in the Bahamas (again, not Pablo’s island, stop saying that), it devolved into something between a hostage situation and a particularly low-budget reality show where no one wins and everyone cries.
As an experienced event organiser, I watched this mess unfold like it was a live masterclass in how to absolutely torch your career, your reputation, and several million dollars, all in under two weekends.
Let’s break it down.
🔥 Lesson 1: Influencers ≠Infrastructure
Fyre’s marketing plan?
Step 1: Pay Kendall Jenner $250K to post an orange square.
Step 2: Let Instagram do the rest.
Step 3: Don’t build anything.
And for a while, it worked. The hype was so strong, people shelled out £10,000 for a mystery box of lies. But here’s the rub. You can’t manifest plumbing with hashtags.
Influencers can sell the dream, but someone still has to build the actual toilet.
🔥 Lesson 2: Don’t Lie About the Island. Especially If It's Connected to a Drug Cartel.
Billy secured an island with one rule. “Do not mention Pablo Escobar.” Naturally, the first promo video screamed “ONCE OWNED BY PABLO ESCOBAR” in bold font. That went over about as well as shouting “bomb” on a plane. He was booted off the island faster than you can say “DEA.”
Plan B was a gravel pit behind a Sandals resort.
Moral of the story. If you must host your luxury event in a morally ambiguous location, maybe don’t tie it to an international drug lord.
🔥 Lesson 3: Budgeting Is Not Optional
Fyre’s financial strategy was essentially:
“Sell a dream. Use money from new ticket sales to cover old ones. Lie to investors. Pray no one notices the part where the artist budget is £0 and the sewage plan is a shrug.”
Billy raised millions, then misallocated it with the precision of a raccoon on Red Bull. At one point, he was selling exclusive event tickets to events that didn’t exist, from prison.
That’s not budgeting. That’s Ponzi Cirque du Soleil.
🔥 Lesson 4: Communication is More Than a Drone Shot
When guests arrived, no one knew what was happening. There were no signs, no staff, no schedules - just dazed festivalgoers, soggy tents, and the haunting knowledge that Blink-182 had already escaped.
Fyre’s idea of communication? An FAQ page with advice like “bring a swimsuit” and “have an open mind.”
During the collapse, Billy went silent. No updates. No alerts. Just an Instagram still trying to vibe while the festival burned in real time.
Pro tip. If your event is going full Lord of the Flies, maybe email someone.
🔥 Lesson 5: Experience Matters (And Billy Had None)
Billy McFarland had never thrown a festival. Or a concert. Or a birthday party that didn’t end in civil litigation.
His experience?
Running a shady “luxury credit card” company,
Pretending to be rich,
And using Microsoft Excel to commit financial crimes.
He treated a multi-million-pound production like a sixth form group project. No plan, no budget, but plenty of blind enthusiasm and unchecked narcissism.
Final Thoughts: Don’t Be Billy
Unless your goal is to star in two documentaries and several class action lawsuits, don’t emulate Billy McFarland. Event planning is about boring stuff. Logistics, insurance, permits, sewage. If you get those right, you might have time left for cheese sandwiches.
So please, next time you plan a festival:
Tell the truth.
Build bathrooms.
Don’t name-drop narcos.
And maybe run your budget past someone who owns a calculator.
Because in the end, Fyre Festival wasn’t just a disaster. It was a masterclass in how not to organise anything, ever.
Coming soon:
🟠“Escape from Tent City: The Untold Fyre Memoirs”
🟠“Billy's 10-Step Plan to Ruin Literally Everything”
🟠“How to Throw a Festival Without Getting Sued: A Real Guide (No Cheese Sandwiches Included)”