Islands of Croatia
Cruising on a sailboat for this length of time is relatively new to us. It’s always been ‘the dream’ but in our normal life back in NZ and even sailing in the South Pacific, the longest period in one stretch we’d have out on our boat was about a month. I must confess I was always hankering for the comforts of home by then. But this is different and certainly made easier by the extra space and high specs Waiata has - like a washing machine! How did I ever get by without one? The weather here makes it easier too, just about every day is sunny and hot. So the days just slip by, (it’s now nearly two months at sea), and some days we accomplish a lot, and others, not so much. But part of this journey is learning to be at peace with just being chilled out and having no pressure or deadlines.
We left Premuda and continued south stopping to anchor in bays on the islands of Molat, Ist, Dugi, Pasman, Drvenik Veli, Solta and a two day marina stay in Zadar on the mainland. Each island had it’s own charm (or challenge) and sometimes we’d be alone in a bay, and other times we were one of many. In terms of favourites, it’s hard to pick but Uvala Siroka (Uvula means Bay) on Ist was extra special so we lingered a few days. We’d hike up to a church way up on a hill first thing in the mornings where the views were stunning across the archipelago. Solta was also great and where we first observed the many charter yachts spill out of Split and compete like professional athletes for anchor on the first night of their tours. It’s incredible to watch!
At times during this ‘island-hopping-sail-south’, we practised our stern-to anchoring. This is where you anchor in the middle of the bay and reverse back to land so your stern is nearly on the shore. Gavin then dives into the water (with speedos & rock hopper shoes on, beautiful!) holding a rope that is tied to us, climbs up the rocks, and secures it to a tree or rock while I keep the boat off the shore and the bow into the wind. There is often shouting and gesticulating during this exercise. We’ve had some success with this technique and some times where it takes a few go’s, but the bottom line is, we need to master it as it’s simply how it rolls here when it’s too deep to anchor normally.
The Zadar marina stay was really fun - such a beautiful old town to wander through and it was heaving with tourists, particularly at night. It was also a bit of a luxury being able to run the air-conditioning all night as we’re plugged into shore power. Imagine 30 degrees at night and trying to sleep; there’s simply no amount of sea breeze that can cool you. We do run our A/C when we’re not plugged in to marina electricity at anchor, but only for a couple of hours right when we head off to sleep (and if I beg Gavin later in the night) - so as not to run down the batteries.
We’ve had some exquisite sailing to the various anchors, but the day we went from Drvenik Veli to Brac was stunning. The breeze ran 12-15 knots and it was ideal conditions for flying the (bright orange!) Gennaker for the first time. Waiata was sailing at 9-10 knots in a flat sea, what more can you ask for? We couldn’t stop smiling.
On Brac (Brac pronounced Brach) we met up with a Kiwi mate Craig who lives in Brussels but has a holiday home on Milna. He knows EVERYONE and we had great fun looking around the Milna village bursting with energy during one of the many Yachting Weeks the town hosts. He organised a marina berth for us which would have been a monumental feat given they were so full with boats taking part in the boating festivities, not to mention the final of the European football world cup. We ended up staying around Milna for a few nights as we really liked it, both at anchor and inside the marina.
Our longest stay in any one place so far has been in Jelsa on Hvar, (Jelsa pronounced Yelsa, Hvar pronounced Var)) where we anchored for 8 days. Our dear Kiwi friends Rick, Vesna and their daughter Isabella holiday here every year from their base in NYC. Vesna is Serbian/Croatian and her extended family join them from Croatia and Slovenia. We were treated to a beautiful authentic Croatian feast at their place cooked by Vesna’s mum, aka, Baka, (translates to Grandma in Croatian) and also celebrated Rick’s birthday with the family. We had so many fun adventures with this group and because we were anchored in their bay, they could swim over, or we’d dinghy over and hang out. The day we took them out sailing (9 of us onboard including two young children) a forecast of 15 knots turned into 25 knots and we broke a reef line as we tried to put the first reef in. Waiata was flying at 12-13 knots, the fastest I’d ever experienced at the helm. One couldn’t call it relaxing exactly, but they all said they loved it.
Rick and Vesna had a car so we had a couple evening excursions into villages nearby on Hvar and also to the bigger towns of Hvar Town and Stari Grad. It has been interesting for us to observe these beautiful, historic old towns full of all sorts of people after 9pm; families, young partiers, international and local tourists, (lots of American accents heard) children playing soccer by the old churches, glam couples off luxury yachts, everyone strolling, eating, drinking, having gelato, just making the most of the slight dip in temperature to grasp the summer vibe. The towns are teeming with life until midnight or later and there doesn’t seem to be a lot of Covid fear, or that was our observation anyway.
When we first got to Croatia we reached out to the NZ Consular office to enquire about our chances of getting our second dose of the Pfizer vaccine; we’d got our first dose in Auckland just before we left in May. Initially it was a no-goer, understandably they are focussing on their citizenry and foreigners receiving vaccines were not in the plan. But thanks to the good work of Marijana at the NZ Consular office and Croatia’s developing mandate to see as many people vaccinated as possible, we were able to get the jab in Jelsa.
The day of the jab turned out to be the most dramatic day of this trip so far. Rick kindly drove us to the clinic to get our vaccine and the plan was to head to the supermarket next door afterwards, with the car, and stock the boat for leaving Jelsa the next day. As we exited the clinic, we felt a powerful gust of wind, it literally lifted my hair into the air. Gavin and I both looked at each other and had the same thought, is the boat safe? We were anchored at the mouth of Jelsa harbour, tucked in nicely and protected, had been there for some 30 hours. We figured all was fine and we had time to do the shopping. This proved to be quite the bad decision.
After we finished at the supermarket, Rick dropped us as close to our dinghy as he was allowed in the Jelsa no-car zone and we walked on with three heavy bags of groceries. The first thing we noticed was that we couldn’t see Waiata’s mast. At that point I’d hoped it was an optical illusion, it would suddenly appear in a few seconds. Gavin dropped the groceries next to the dingy and ran to the stone wall surrounding the bay. He shouted, ‘she’s gone, get in the dinghy’! The next 5 minutes were the most terrifying because as we sped out of the big bay, there was literally no sign of the boat. Thoughts went through my head of - has she been stolen? How do you steal a boat? Gav’s intuition was better, he knew she’d dragged anchor. Finally, we spotted her some 500 metres away and very close to rocks, say 200 metres off. There was a large dinghy next to her and as we got closer (we were pretty much flying in our dinghy) we saw a man and his son keeping watch over her. He looked at us with that expression we’ve probably given to others whom we have perceived to be irresponsible boaties dragging anchor, ‘WTF are you thinking, why aren’t you with your boat?’ I was in total shock and had lost all moisture in my mouth, was shaking uncontrollably but trying to thank him for his consideration with my eyes and using the Namaste hands. I must’ve been white as a ghost and looking a sight for sore eyes. He drove off shaking his head…..I’m quite sure he dined out on the story that night.
Gavin and I quickly boarded the boat and did all that was needed to start her up and lift the dingy. We didn’t even speak to each other, we were alone in our thoughts of the fear and shame and also the realisation of how very lucky we were that the wind hadn’t shifted another direction or she would most definitely be on the rocks in the bay we’d been anchored in. As we started back to Jelsa I asked Gav if we could have a night in the marina, he was all for it. Whew.
There’s a couple of lessons here. One, always trust your intuition. That gust of wind outside the vaccination clinic was delivering a message to us and it said, go to the boat now! The groceries could wait. Secondly, anyone can drag anchor, even someone as diligent at anchoring as Gavin is. Gavin had already helped two boats here that were dragging in the middle of the night with wind changes. We see it often but we can be judgemental and call it irresponsible when it’s not necessarily that. Be humble and always helpful, that’s our new jam.
We have this rule that anytime there’s a big scary drama on this crazy boating adventure, I get to buy a frock, a dress in a boutique on shore. Drama dresses. On the way to the marina when Gavin finally spoke he said, ‘Dona, you’re NOT getting a dress for this, you’re getting TWO!
As I write this we are anchored in Lumbardo on Korcula, Croatia. Our plan is to have a stop on the island of Mljet before heading to Dubrovnik. From there we’ll head to Montenegro and then Greece. I hope my closet of dresses remains sparse!
