2 Hats and a Man overboard
Dubrovnik to Split
After arriving from Montenegro and going through the customs/immigration office in the port, we booked a night in the marina inside Dubrovnik harbour. This meant we could wash the boat down, and pick up some bits from town including my online shopping parcel and Bills replacement anchor chain counter. The highlight was putting the bikes ashore and going exploring in the crazy one-way racetrack traffic. We legged it through to the old fortified town which, after all the battles and invasions listed below, has been restored beautifully, with galleries and museums dotted around the walled village.
As the day grew hotter and the old town filled with sweaty cruise ship tourists, we rode back to the boat and left for the more peaceful port of Kavtat to await the arrival of Carsten and Jen. This was 2 hours south of Dubrovnik and had 2 anchorages so is sheltered from winds from north or south. After Montenegro, we noticed how much warmer the sea and air temperature was. The local architecture is faded elegance, lots of old buildings with scars from battles won and lost over the centuries.
Kavtat
sunlight dancing on the water in afternoon light
lazy bodies stretched out like sardines drying in the sun
day boats chuckling in the gentle swell on their moorings
sea breeze beginning to stir beyond the harbour mouth
old buildings turning faces to the early summer light
scent of pine as soft piano notes tinkle
crisp chardonnay to whet the appetite
swimmers launching like penguins off the warm rocks
bird song and soft laughter
the tranquility of a sleepy port awakening for the summer season
After collecting Carsten and Jen, we spent a few days island hopping up the coast, including Lopud, Sipan, Millet, and Lastovo. Reaching along toward Sipan, my favourite Sail GP hat went overboard, so we put our retrieval skills into action to no avail. In the port of Sipan, Jen and I went for a walk around the old port while the blokes helped someone win some rugby on the telly.
We found a kindred spirit when an elderly Frenchman walked along the coast with his 2 sheep (or goats, they had very long legs for sheep…). He had seen us looking over his garden wall, and so invited us for a tour, which was amazing, as every inch of garden was planted with edibles, including cape gooseberries, avocados, loads of citrus, grapes and kiwifruit, vegetables galore plus a feijoa tree. He fed us gooseberries and spicy roquette as we walked around and tried to communicate in Franglais.
The next island of Miljet had a national park at the northern end, so we called in for lunch and a swim before sailing out to one of the more remote outer islands, Lastovo. There was a submarine cave in a sheltered corner of the harbour so we anchored and put shore lines out alongside it. There are a few of these caves around the Croatian coast, which were dug into cliffs around the coast to hide submarines and ships in WW2… very cool, but slightly menacing, as it is easy to imagine what it was like when a sub crept into or out of one.
Man overboard…
Unfortunately the night was interrupted by increasing wind which swung around and started blowing into the bay. Bill didn’t sleep waiting for the anchor to drag, which it finally did at 4am, so we jumped up and dropped the shore lines, pulled the anchor up and steamed out to find shelter. The opposite side of the harbour looked ok, but was very deep so we had to motor around to find a spot shallow enough to anchor without hanging back onto the beach. This done, the boys went back in the dinghy to collect our shore lines thankfully and found it still blowing a gale by the sub cave. By the time they returned, it seemed like the wind had died down a bit so Bill set his anchor alarm and we all went to sleep with one eye open. Sure enough, the alarm went off 20 minutes later and we shot up on deck to see the wind up and blowing in again, and the back of the boat almost on the beach. By the time we had the engines going, with the wind howling, Bill had to drive backwards so we could get the anchor up, then in early light we steamed out to try another sheltered spot. Meanwhile Bill’s favourite hat blew off his head and over the side, so we spun around and managed to retrieve it, yay! This time the only option was a concrete dock with ground lines hanging off it but no sign of anyone managing it, so we had a go at backing onto it. The plan was for Carsten to jump ashore and handle our lines, however as we got within 2 metres before he could jump, a ground line got stuck in the top of our starboard rudder. He and I were fending the boat off the dock but couldn’t see if the line was around the propeller, so Bill couldn’t use the starboard engine to manoeuvre off the dock. By this time the boat was being pushed sideways onto the dock, so Bill handed me the helm and jumped in to check and to fend off, (aka human fender). I was trying to reverse out with only one engine and a person in the water when I heard a loud crack as the stern hit the dock. All I could think of was Bill being squashed, however Carsten said he was ok and to keep going, and we backed out dragging Bill through the water hanging on to a rope while trying to keep his feet away from the propellers. Once we had him back on board in one piece, we decided to put to sea for some peace and quiet, so pulled up 2 headsails and ran down wind for the morning. This gave everyone a chance to get our adrenal levels back in check, have a snooze, then Jen and I made breakfast as we surfed along gently at 6.5 knots towards the island of Vis.
Lessons learnt: always lift the dinghy before going to sleep, always have fenders on hand, don’t approach a dock with ground lines if no one there, kiss your skipper before he jumps overboard … oh and have an outfit ready to jump into at 4am, to avoid putting someone else’s pants on by mistake…
There is little or no wind in the mornings here, unless the Bora is blowing (local gales that come down the Adriatic from Italian side of the Alps) so after a nice paddle and walk around Vis harbour, we set sail and reached over to Hvar, a lovely old port on the island of Hvar (typically the port has the same name as the island here).
The port is a complete tourist trap, with cruise ships, high speed ferries, local tourist boats, day boats and hundreds of charter yachts all trying to cram in. The solution is to pick up a mooring on one of the outer islands and catch a water taxi in to see the gorgeous town, with no anchor anxiety, yay!
Next island was Brac, which has a famous sandy spit on a coast filled with vineyards, next to the port of Bol. No anchoring here and the port quay is notorious for breaking boats with a nasty swell, so luckily we picked up the last mooring buoy available, and wandered ashore to try the wares of the winery which sits on the dock. Apparently the grape vines that started our wine industry in Henderson back in the 70’s came from this island. Croats seem to like their wine more astringent than NZ, so it is an acquired taste however doesn’t cause convulsions like the Greek equivalent.
Our final port was Split, which was 5 hours away, so Carsten and Jen experienced catamaran sailing on the wind with a lively swell. Moonshadow behaved graciously, and our professional trimmer was impressed with how she performs tacking into 25 knots. While the blokes played at being Pete and Blair (not quite running across the trampolines with each tack), I was listening to the crockery smashing with every wave we fell off, planning an order to Ikea when we arrived, but amazingly no casualties!
