Category: Croatia 2014

The Radeys, Hipples, and Knells are taking a trip to Croatia to sail part of the beautiful Adriatic coast. Somehow, the Hipples have bypassed the normal screening procedures for sailing with the Knells. It is unclear how that was accomplished, but it might have something to do with trekking in a car for 5 days through the Atlas mountains and riding dromedaries in the Moroccan desert. After leaving Croatia, the Hipples are going on to Paris; Radeys and Knells on to Prague and Vienna. This blog documents the trip from my (Chris’) perspective.

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Marlene has made me responsible for arranging transportation from Moorestown to the Newark airport. After all the work that she has done selecting destinations, arranging flights, accommodations, sights to see, it is something she just does not want to deal with. I finally settle on a limo service (First Class) and arrange to have them pick each couple up at our front doors. Shortly after we are supposed to be picked up, I call Hipples … they were first on the list and have not been picked up yet. A call to the company and a return call from the driver indicates he was caught in traffic and will still be another 1/2 hour. We start toying with the idea of driving up ourselves, but we don’t have a car that will fit all of us. A low-stress limo ride has turned into a high-stress hope that we will not miss our flight. Thoughtfully, the Hipples have brought along a bottle of Champagne that serves to ease my nerves a bit.

We make it to the gate 15 minutes before boarding … so all is well again. But I’m still feeling like my one assignment has failed. Take-off is delayed 45 minutes due to a mechanical problem with a door.

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The jet seats are supremely uncomfortable and it is really hard to sleep on the 6.5 hour flight to Munich. We all walk around in a daze at the airport before our 10am flight to Split. I’m really in a fog.

 

Nicola is waiting for us at the Split airport… Mar has arranged for the transportation to the rooms in Split. He stops for figs on the side of the road (“do you like figs?”) and tells us that the Croatian language has been influenced by German and Italian.

He walks us up to Palima #6 (a few blocks uphill, past where the road for cars ends) where we meet Violet, our hostess. She is very nice and speaks English wonderfully. I tell her it sounds to me like she must have lived in the states; she has. I guess Pittsburgh then Chicago. Chicago is right.

Violet has recently completed renovations of the house (4 separate rooms) and everything is very clean. We can see the Adriatic from the terrace.

We walk into old town for lunch and to see Diocletian’s Palace (built by a Roman in the third century). We sit at a table that we believe is within the walls (since we have walked through a large gate in a very large, fortress-style wall) and speculate that the main building must be across the square from us. However, as we all study the map that we have, we cannot agree as to where we are on the map. After lunch (some order pizza that is just OK – certainly not the “best ever”), our waitress tells us that, in fact, we are outside the palace walls and are not even on the map (but one of the main gates – gold – is within sight).

We spend a few hours walking around within the ancient walls of the palace then head back for a nap.

 

 
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We start our very first dinner search just after sunset. At the bottom of the hill we run into what appears to be the shooting of a film. We watch for at least 40 minutes as they prepare a car to shoot a scene. “They” is about 50 or more production crew. Eventually they set out to another location – this is just a staging area. We continue our dinner search. About 45 minutes later we end up back up the hill, just around the corner from #6 Palima, at a restaurant called Deep Shade (Dark Shadows?). Dinner is great. We talk a bit about the baby on the plane near us who never cried. The mom was breastfeeding him. Someone suggest that the suckling cleared the baby’s ears. Frank suggests that maybe a wet nurse should be a standard option in the first class section on all flights.

I’ve had a headache since Munich and still have it. I’m not up for going out on the town (it is Friday night), and most everyone is in agreement. We head back. The next morning we hear that Cathy and Jeff have walked up to the top of the hill that we are on and had a drink at the bar overlooking Split. They said it was very nice.

As I come out of the room (in search of hot water for tea) to the veranda,  a couple is already sitting eating breakfast. I stop to chat. They are Australian (Pat and Bertha Mary Wells) and have been on the road for months, their travel path has included Iran, Egypt, the various “stan” countries (Kazakhstan, etc.). They are very interesting, tour a lot, and, after a few of us have met them, invite us to visit and stay on their property in Australia. Apparently others pull their campers onto the property and stay for a while. They introduce us to some Australian – rubba duck (dingy), sundowner (early evening drink). Referring to some guests that came to visit them, he says in his strong Australian tongue “afta thee werk ewt a few weds in Austrayin” – (after they work out a few words in Australian). They recommend Wolf brand backpacks with wheels for “geriatric” backpacking. Their blog site: http://patnberthawells.blogspot.com/. Her email address: berthawells@icloud.com.

The evening prior, Marlene tried to confirm with Violet that she will serve scrambled eggs for breakfast in addition to the hard boiled eggs that she normally serves. Someone had assured Mar in an email that eggs would be available any style, but Violet is hedging. Mar is persistent. After talking with Pat and Bertha a bit, I go down to the kitchen on the first floor where Violet is preparing the breakfast plates. She starts asking me about how we like our scrambled eggs. The next thing I know I’m cooking them for everyone. Violet is fine with that. She is busy enough with other stuff.

After breakfast Violet orders a taxi for us. She accompanies us down the hill to the spot where we were dropped off the day before. The six of us, with our luggage arrive … we look at the taxi driver in his little Mazda … he looks at us … we all say somewhat simultaneously “we won’t fit”. While he could fit 6 of us without luggage, it really appears there is no way. However, after trying to call Nicola (the driver from the day before), and after he puts a few items in the car and tells us that it is not permitted to put that many in the car, we volunteer Jeff for the small rear seat (with a bag on his lap) so that Mar, Frank, Lynn, and Cathy can sit in the middle seat. I sit up front with a bag on my lap.

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Somehow we all fit – but just barely. He tells us as we pull away “Japanese school bus”. We all laugh – except Jeff.

On the ride over, he tells me about how Germans and Croatians are different. Germans always follow the rules and would never permit the car to be overloaded like this. They always check to see that he has his seatbelt buckled in his car, with him driving – before the car pulls away from the curb. He says Croats are improvisors and kind of go with the flow. He says he has a metaphor that sums it up. A German, when hanging a picture on a wall, will analyze and measure and drive one nail that will result in the picture being hung perfectly on the first attempt. Whereas a Croat will start by putting a nail in the wall and then hang the picture on it. If it does not look right, he’ll move the nail a little and try again, and so on until the picture is where it looks right. I asked how an American would hang it; he said the American would just leave it where it was first place. I added that the Italians would do it much like the Croats but would make a lot more noise.

We arrive (much to Jeff’s relief … he’s still crammed into the very rear seat) at the marina about 30 minutes later and wait in line at the office for what seems like more than an hour. The crew settles in to a round or two of beers while Mar and I wait. We are finally told that check-in will be as soon as the boat is ready and there is someone to go through the boat with us. We order lunch and work on a grocery list. All is going well.

At about 2:30 I get a call from the charter company (Waypoint), that they are ready for us. Marlene and I head to the boat and the crew starts provisioning. The boat is Summer Point, a Bavaria 46 with 4 cabins and 3 heads. Check-out is about as quick and informal as I can remember one ever being. Good thing. It starts to rain a bit and lightning is off in the distance. Jeff and Frank bring our bags over (they have been in a cart since we arrived). The bags are quickly followed by the provisions. Lynn is trying not to freak out, but is finding it hard. The wind picks up as does the rain and the sky looks pretty threatening.
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From the boat I go over to the office and to see how Lynn is doing. At this point, she can’t leave the security of the office building porch. I wait with her a while looking at weather reports online. They predict that it will clear. We occasionally see blue sky through the clouds. I suggest that we go to the boat and she is in agreement. As we walk out to the dock, we can see more threatening clouds but are ready to make our way off solid land and over a small bridge to the floating dock where the boat is; this is a big step for Lynn given the weather. As we get to the bridge, I realize that I have forgotten to purchase flip-flops at the store (I broke mine wheeling the luggage cart from the taxi to the marina). Lynn happily turns around with me to go back to the shelter of the store. I buy them and we make another attempt. Lynn is clutching my arm, keeping her eyes down to avoid seeing the lightning in the distance, and is ready to cross the bridge. But as we get to it, she says “wait!” and spins in place … “I forgot my sunglasses”. We go back into the store. As we enter, she says to the cashier “It’s me again, I’ve lost my sunglasses” and laughs in a crazy sort of way. The significance of the “again” is lost on me. I just figure she is really nervous. We find them at the check-out counter and we make our third attempt to cross the bridge. We are successful.

Once aboard, Mar and I immediately start evaluating our options. It does appear to be clearing, but there are still threatening clouds above the mountains. The nearest destination is Maslinica, Solta, about 2 hrs away. Sunset is in about 3 hrs. It starts to rain again. Do we stay the night in Trogir and get an early start or try to make it before sunset. We don’t know if there will be space for us when we arrive. If we leave in the morning, it will be a long sail tomorrow; from experience, a bad idea on the first day out. While we are discussing our options, the sun continues to move lower in the sky. Finally, the sky clears in the direction that we are headed. We make the decision to go and in 15 minutes we are motoring out.

We arrive a little before sunset. We are helped with our stern-to docking by someone ashore (this will be the case everywhere), who turns out to be an employee of the marina – Martini. I sort of bumble the attempt (it takes me a few tries to back in) and speak to him a few minutes later about what I did wrong. He recommends that I get going in reverse much faster so that I have steerage. That bit of advice will prove very helpful for the rest of the week.

We are surprised that the charge is more than $120 for the night and choose not to hook up to water to save $20. Cocktails, then a walk around the harbor to select a spot for dinner. There are only three or four places, so we pretty quickly decide on one of them (sea bass is on the menu and is lees than $15 (90kn). The waiter brings over a tray of whole, fresh fish and we select our individual fishes. He asks if he can bring our fish out on one tray after they are cooked. The whole-fish presentation is fantastic.

Let us start by looking at a few examples of your car building up excessive garbage leading to its aging. women viagra pills You can buy free sample levitra them either through online pharmacies or from a local medical shop. Getting help is kind of taking doubts on their own and using as per their own fancy amerikabulteni.com viagra generico 5mg will land them into serious trouble. Initially he asked for a week-long leave of absence but then decided to separate himself from the time. viagra in italy We all are feeling pretty settled and don’t rush dinner at all. We are at a picnic table right on the water with benches on each side. We watch a guy on shore attempt to catch fish with a net. Then the stories start; we hear about the experience in the store while provisioning. Cathy and Lynn were the primary shoppers for our boat. The first challenge was converting the water quantity from 1/2 gal/person/day to the 8 liter bottles that they sell in the market. Apparently they involved the cashier who was not sure exactly what they were asking for, she is calculating, they are guessing and they ended up with 19 eight liter bottles. It is clearly a lot of water as it fills the shopping cart. A trip to the deli presents another problem; how may kilos of ham is appropriate for a one week trip? When they order, the woman gives them an “are you sure?” look and proceeds to slice up the better part of her supply. Lynn and Cathy dub it “hammish” since it does not really resemble what we call ham. The store is very small and there are a lot of boaters provisioning, the carts are big, the space to walk is small; Lynn starts to freak out. She finds a corner in the rear of the store, puts her head in her hands, and starts to cry. It is a little bit of a scene. Cathy tries to console her. Other shoppers are wondering what is wrong. There is more to the story… I need to hear the story again. We are all hysterically laughing at the retelling of the story.

Then, somehow the discussion turns to names and Cathy tells us about her parent’s friends Dick and Pussy Driver. We were already in hysterics laughing about the events in the market. It does not take much to have us howling about these names. At one point, none of us can speak we are laughing so hard.

We finally finish up dinner and walk around the quay back to the boat. Frank and Lynn bring up the rear after we have all turned in. They have stopped in the large, elaborate villa (where music has been playing all night – probably a wedding) and have given themselves a tour of parts of the villa.

We are all up pretty early. It is a beautiful, clear, warm morning. The marina where we are staying is the nicest that we will see. An amphitheater, really clean
facilities, a little beach with outside showers. Lots of other boaters take dips and then rinse off under the outside showers. I take a walk up the hill, then take a dip. Some of us go for a swim at the pebble beach, others go back into the very small town and get some great shots of the fishing boats. We get underway by 10am.

Light breeze – we motor for a while then sail on a slow reach. We drop the swim
deck and ladder, set out a fender on a rope, and take turns hanging off the back. As the breeze picks up, we raise the swim deck and sail a bit faster.

 

 

 

Marlene gives us a “three points of contact” lecture which involves lots of thigh slapping. It is really funny. Frank dubs it “Two Cheeks to the Wind”.

 

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For lunch, Cathy and Lynn make a very large hoagie with a long fresh roll, hamish, cheese, really red tomatoes, etc. It looks fantastic on the cockpit table and tastes even better. It is the first of many great lunches aboard.

The wind picks up again and we do 5 to 7 knots as we approach Vis. After spending so much at the marina in Solta, we are happy to anchor in the little Vis harbor. We take the dingy (rubba-duck) off the fore deck and go ashore to walk around the coast a little. We see an old monastery, with a scenic cemetery overlooking the harbor, roman baths (far on the other side of a stone wall), a Hellenic necropolis (cemetery) that we can walk through. In town we visit a wine shop and buy fig bars – Vis is known for their herbed fig bars.

Swimming and sundowners back on the boat. In preparing for dinner, we discover that Radey’s shower sump pump is not working. They end up using the front shower for the rest of the trip as we are unable to find an in-line fuse anywhere. Dingy to town, then walk around for a while until Gostonia catches our attention – tables are set up on the sidewalk, we can sort of see the water, the host is not pushy and there is a table for 6 in a prime spot. Our waiter’s most prominent feature is his “big, large” nose. He helps us select some excellent dishes, very reasonably priced. We finish with carob cake and learn that the seeds from the carob are traditionally used to feed the mules during harvest – the mules love them, they are high in energy, and contain a mild stimulant, not unlike caffeine. The cake is really good.

On the doors of the toilets are pictures of knots that are suggestive of anatomically appropriate body parts. We find plenty to laugh about as dinner winds down.

We wake to a beautiful sunny day and motor out of the harbor at 9:30. Once out in the open water we have a tough decision to make. Marlene has spent a lot of time researching destinations. Korcula town is a prime destination, but we suspect that it may be too far east to get to comfortably and not compromise the rest of the trip. That is, it is going to take a full, long day to get there and maybe two days to get back, depending on the winds. After plenty of indecision, we decide to point in the direction of Korcula town, with the wind at our back and see how it goes. After about 20 minutes on a sloppy run, and consulting with the crew (’cause Mar and I cannot decide) it is concluded that we will have to save Korcula for a future trip. We turn and reach our way to the Pakanini Islands where we anchor for lunch and a really nice swim. We are joined by a young Belgian couple who have rented a small motorboat in Hvar and need a place to tie up while they snorkel. They are charming.

We make the short sail around the islands to Hvar town. The harbor is crazy busy – water taxis, arriving boats, departing boats, ferries. We motor in to the quay (“key”) and are waved off – there is no room – so we turn back and anchor at the mouth of the harbor where there is a little opening. It is a little tight, but there seems to be room. We make a few adjustments. The view up the hill to the citadel is great. It is pretty wavy with taxis and working boats going by at a good clip along with the Jadronlinija ferries. We have sundowners as the sun sets over a large red bouy. The view is great despite the high boat traffic. We make the relatively long dingy ride to the center of town just a little after sunset.

As we step ashore, Jeff announces “There’s a restaurant”. We end up walking for the better part of an hour looking for the right restaurant. We walk though small winding alleyways that are alternately cool or warm with polished stones as pavement. Ancient buildings with old wooden doors and shutters and unusual protrusions that are used to hang flags or support loads. After walking most of the lower part of the town, we settle on Faria (partly because it was recommended by a man who was clearly a local in a small alley far away from the center of town) in a garden-like setting under a vine canopy a little up the hill. It seems to have potential, but service is very slow and we are hungry.

When the food arrives there is a lot of it; a meat platter, lamb, fruti-di-mari. After dinner I order three grappa shots – herbal, plum, grape – and schlivovitz that we pass around and take turns sipping and commenting on. The general opinion is somewhere between firewater and lighter fluid. I am sorely disappointed in the flavors, but we have some great laughs making fun of them.
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We start to head back to the dingy, but Lynn and Frank (who have been demonstrating an ability to wander off and find interesting things to see) have separated from us and then find us again, suggest that we circle back to a cool wine bar on a marvelous little alleyway. We are entertained by our knowledgeable waiter and enjoy some really nice wine. But our waiter occasionally disappears. We find out that he is ducking into an adjacent establishment to watch the end of the US Open. Cilic (#10) (“Cheelich”) is playing Nishikori who is ranked 14. Cilic is Bosnian but is from Magigoria and speaks Croatian. As we finish drinks, he is up in the 3^rd set after winning the first two. On the way back to the dingy, we duck into bars along the way to check on the score and see the final three points. A sort-of-local has won the US Open. The last time that a Croatian local won a major, Mar and I were in Croatia for Wimbledon in 2001.

Back at the boat we hear heavy disco beats until 2am. It keeps Jeff and Frank awake. The last two songs that they hear are both Michael Jackson. (Much of the music that we hear in various establishments are English based songs – many from the 60s and 70s). Shortly after the disco beat subsides and Frank and Jeff are dozing off to sleep, they are awakened by a rowdy boat nearby; it is all German guys and they are yelling “Harry” over and over again. They estimate that they continue to yell for more than an hour.

Sometime after this, Mar and I lurch awake to the sound of the anchor chain. I fly up onto deck. Frank has noticed that the wind has stopped and that we are drifting close to an adjacent boat (the anchorage that was tight earlier feels even more so without the wind to keep us all in the same direction). He has pulled up some chain to keep us from hitting a boat (the Harry boat) behind us.

We get up late (9:45) and have a simple yogurt breakfast. A boat anchors very close to us, but the skipper stays aboard and very courteously lets us know that he knows he is too close and intends to stay aboard to keep an eye on things. At about 11:30 we dingy ashore and walk up to the fortress at the top of the town (Spanola). On the way up, Marlene stops at a dentist and has a tooth cap (which has come loose) glued back on. The dentist’s office is on the alleyway up to the fort. It costs about $65 – well worth it. The walk up is very scenic as is the view from the top. We spend a lot of time walking around the walls to enjoy the great views of the harbor far below. It is getting late, we need to walk back down, do some grocery shopping, get back to the boat, and get underway.

We decide to split up with some going in search of vegetables, some for baked goods. Hvar is a good-sized town (small city?) and it turns out that it is not easy to find one another again. Mar and Lynn have found a nice open-air market with fresh figs, tomatoes, etc. Frank and I get separated from Mar and Lynn, eventually reunite, but we have not seen the Hipples. After searching for a while we decide that they must be at a restaurant. Lynn and Mar walk up one side of the harbor, Frank and I on the other. Frank and I find them on our side, not far from the dingy waiting for sandwiches that they have ordered. To expedite things Frank runs me back to the boat so that I can begin preparing to leave, while Jeff and Cathy wait for their order. He then runs the dingy to the other side to pick up the girls, then back to the first side for Hipples. Just after he drops me off at the boat, I hear a skiff pull alongside. The authority in the boat tells me that we are not permitted to anchor in the channel (where we have been for almost 22 hours) that is marked by the big red bouy. I assure him that we are moving on as soon as the crew returns. After rounding everyone up, we depart at 3:20.

Lunch aboard while motoring, then we try a couple of slow (2.5kt) reaches to clear the west end of Hvar island. It makes for nice sunning on deck. We arrive at Stari Grad (on the north coast of Hvar) at 7:15 right at sunset. I have some trouble bringing the boat in stern-to and have to take a couple of shots at it. The attendant suggests that I “get more headway” and then, when “3 meters away, use forward to stop”. Good advice.

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Once settled, I send a text message to Sonia Sweeney and to Mitza to ask for restaurant recommendations – Marlene has remembered that Sonia’s place is not far from Stari Grad. Both get back with the same recommendation: Ermatige. But unfortunately, it is too far around the harbor from us so we cannot walk there. Before setting out for dinner, we have a great plate of figs, smoked cheese, and olive oil on toast.

The town is medium-sized and, even at night, charming with plenty of small alleyways, plants, shutters and old wood doors. Around each corner, there seems to be another restaurant. The 6 of us break up into smaller groups and, at various times, a group will find a nice restaurant, someone from the group will go find others, and we try to sit down. But each time, some from another group have found what they feel is a better restaurant – more scenic setting, nicer selection of food. At two different times we sit down at a table, only to get up and move to another table. Jeff, who is always hungriest first, is fuming. He would have been perfectly happy at the first restaurant on the quay. We end up in a cute courtyard with a few restaurant options and switch from one (where some have sat down) to another so that we can see the (almost full) moon. The meal at Antika is excellent and ends up being almost the cheapest of our sailing trip at 932 kn or about $140 for 6 of us with wine (Zlatan Plavac) and beer – great fresh fish (shark, sage, sea bass). It turns out that that would have been Mitza’s second choice.

After dinner, Mar, Frank, Cathy and I sit at a bar on the harbor and drink slivovitz, and Jeggermeister. We get back to the boat at 12:45.

I get up early and take a quick walk around Stari Grad. It is really charming. Around every turn in the winding alleyways is another interesting sight. I hustle back to the boat to get everyone to hustle through breakfast and then we all walk around town.

We spit up in the interest of efficiency. We see Sv. Ivana, Sv. Stephan and many other churches – some from the 5^th century! I think Mar took a picture in each cute, little alley. We find a cemetery with a chapel and Mary with seven swords (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Our_Lady_of_Sorrows) that we were not familiar with. A rope ship hidden away in a lot that we determine would be used at a festival – they would light it afire and send it out onto the water. We buy figs from a road-side stand and are taught “hvala liepo” – thank you very much and “dober” is good. We stop into a little shop and buy olive oil and Kroskovac. The woman also rents rooms for $150 euro. A search for an in-line fuse for the shower pump proves futile. There is a nice open-air market at the end of the harbor.

At the end of our trip, a sampling of the 6 travelers reveals that Stari Grad was the favorite of each of us. Hvar was the average second.

It is after 1pm when we get back to the boat. We prep lunch while motoring out of the harbor, and eat under sail. We reach to the famous Bol beach – Zlatni Rat which is interesting and covered with people. We anchor and swim. Five of the crew dingy to shore when a sudden storm approaches with lightning and thunder. Lynn is one of the 5 and is pretty freaked out as they return to the boat as the wind picks up with thunder cracking around us. As everyone gets aboard, and the wind shifts, suddenly another boat is motoring too close to us. They appear to be caught on an anchor line and cannot steer. While I go up to help fend off, the crew prepares additional fenders and starts the engine – good crew! Lynn is one of the helpers with the fenders despite the upsetting situation.

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We have a long, unsuccessful search for a dinner spot. We are a little worried about being outside because the skies are still threatening. We finally settle on the Terrace Tavern, but the storm appears to be approaching as we start to sit down. We go to plan B and order take-out delivered to the boat which is just down from the Terrace. We eat what is probably the least memorable meal of the entire trip and have plenty of left-overs.

Across the very wide sidewalk is a bar where the guitar player standing on stage seems to be playing just for us while we sit in our cockpit. Jeff and Cathy have bought some good wine and the 3 Marlenas get fired up on it. All three are a little giddy. Suddenly, Cathy jumps out of the cockpit, scampers to shore and runs up behind “tall people” walking by on the sidewalk so that we all can see how tall they are. Of course, everyone is tall compared to Cathy in bare feet anyway. After doing this a few times she realizes that the sidewalk they are walking on is higher than the one adjacent to the boat. Because of this advantage that they have, they are actually 8 inches shorter than they appear to be to her.

We finish the night with toasts and drinks of Kroskovac from the “Madonna” bottle.