Month: March 2015

It turns out that the pleasant, all-male, group of Austrians on the neighboring boat like to party – all night long. At some point in the middle of the night Jeff goes up on deck, whistles, and yells “Enough!” to quiet them down. Then the wind changes direction and picks up causing waves and cross waves that reflect off of the sea wall in the harbor. The boat starts moving on all three axis at the same time. It is really uncomfortable. Add to this the banging of the gangplank on the stern of the boat and Jeff, Cathy and Frank get very little sleep. Lynn has her medically assisted sleep and does fine. Mar and I are far enough removed from the banging gangplank that we do not hear – but are still pitched around a lot. I meet Jeff in the kitchen – he is grumpy from lack of sleep and hearing too much Austrian through the night. The boat is moving so much he accidentally dumps a pot of hot water, putting him into a more sour mood. He and Cathy go for a walk to get off of the boat and to find some baked goods.

We have not yet seen our neighbors. They probably just went to sleep. Suddenly there is a loud snap and a piece of wood pops off the back of their boat. Our stern line has caught a trim piece of their boat and snapped it off. The same line almost takes their outboard motor off of its place on their starboard stern stanchion. A short time later we see the first of the Austrians up on deck. He is probably looking for the source of the noise that woke him. A few more join him. Frank greets them with a snide “Hey party boys!”. Cathy, who is back and has now heard about the broken piece of trim, says “Avert your eyes!” and breaks me up. They are talking amongst themselves and to Jeff and Frank – I presume about the broken piece of boat.

The motion is bad and getting worse with the reflections of the waves off of the breakwater. We decide to leave before breakfast – actually immediately. We don’t know where we are going other than out. As we motor out of the harbor we run into big swells and 18 to 20 kts. We reef the sails. As we are getting settled (it is much better on the open water – even with the swells) we start talking about the Austrians and the various encounters. Cathy and I think that they were telling Jeff and Frank “piece of boat”, referring to the broken trim. Frank and Jeff say they were actually saying “piss in boat” referring to an incident from the night before. Apparently three of the Austrians had returned to the boat late from a bar. They were followed by some other people who “pissed in their boat”. This is what some of the yelling had been about in the middle of the night. We are nearly hysterical with this. Cathy says it sounds like a joke: “three guys walk out of a bar; a rabbi, a priest, and a naked fisherman”. We had sailed by a naked fisherman the day before. It was a strange sight – an old, naked fisherman standing in his punt, balancing himself against the small waves with rod in hand.

As we are sailing, Marlene selects Milna (harbor of 1000 ships) as our next destination. It is not too far from Trogir and looks nice. We have a really nice run along the scenic coast of Brac. It rains and thunders a bit and the skies look threatening. Lynn stays below until the sun starts peeking out. We round the western point in the sun and pull into a really nice cove where we swim, sun, and have lunch. We notice lots and lots of boats going into the Milna harbor – for hours while we float at anchor. The sun has been out, but storms are clearly approaching.

I force a decision. We can either stay the night in this nice cove where we will have to eat aboard, or risk going to Milna and not finding a place to put the boat – Mar comes up with two alternate backup plans that involve another island. I want to stay in this cove since I don’t like the idea of going stern-to in the pouring rain. The crew is pushing to move on. Frank assures me “We’ll be there before the storm”. I reply “It can be really miserable to berth in a storm”. We decide to give it a try.

We motor around the corner to Milna – it is packed full of boats. More boats than I have ever seen in one place. We motor slowly through the very long harbor toward town. As we reach the far end, Waypoint, the charter company, calls on my cell phone – they know we are in Milna – can we give a gas can to another boat that is also in Milna? – sure but I have to back out and I don’t think we are actually going to find a berth in Milna, but if the other boat can find us, sure – I’ve got to hang up because I’m trying to back out of tight quarters.

As I back out and then turn around, the rain starts and then gets heavy and then it pours. We have to yell over the noise of the rain. There are clearly no open berths, but another boat is going broadside to the quay (“key”) at the western end of the harbor; there seems to be a little room behind them. They are starboard-to so I approach the same way. The crew sees us approaching and right away there are 3 or 4 guys catching lines that we are throwing in the pouring rain. We don’t have much experience with throwing lines so it takes a few tries but they pull us over to the quay and we get secured. They are really helpful and really soaked. They are Polish but have a little English. They are full of smiles as we snug up to the quay. Almost right away I hear a crunch and then another. We are hitting something – probably the ground. It is still pouring rain – hard. Suddenly a man in a window in a building on shore is yelling “do you speak English?”. Yes! “Turn boat around – is shallow just here”. I let our crew know that we are going to turn the boat around to be port-to, then let the Polish crew know – I’m not sure how they understand me, but very quickly we have the boat flipped around and re-secured. As I start to take a breath and relax just a bit, there is a boat alongside our starboard side asking for the gas can; they are really close and – somehow – not moving. It is the other Waypoint boat. After some confusion about gas vs. propane, we hand over our spare propane tank and they thank us and are quickly on their way.
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I start to exhale again and then someone is telling me there is another boat hailing us. A boat is off our starboard just a little further out than the gas-can boat was. They want to raft-up. They all have foul weather gear on and look like military personnel. We are in bathing suits and look like drenched rats. I still don’t know if we are clear of the bottom, so let them know that I am going into the water to check the clearance. After trying to look over the stern swim platform, I go in, under, and find about 8 inches of water below our keel. There has been virtually no tidal swing so we are probably OK. As I get out, the man in the window is there and I ask his opinion about the raft request. He says yes, one boat is OK. He also suggests a change to the way we are tied off. I report back to the waiting crew of the boat (that again is somehow staying stationary not far off our starboard side) that, per my advisor, they can raft up but no additional boats. Seven boats end up rafted to the Polish boat.

We send a six pack of beer over to the Polish crew along with many thank yous. They quickly return with a 4 pack of 16 oz Zywiec, a Polish beer. We all raise toasts to one another. The German boat that has rafted up to us quickly delivers a bottle of wine to us as thanks. Up close they look like an Aryan Nation sailing crew; tall, blonde, bright clear blue eyes, crisp foul-weather gear, deck shoes. They are very nice.

Moments later, an official stops by to collect docking fees for the harbor. My head is spinning.

I am feeling very indebted to the man in the window. If he had not suggested turning our boat around, we would have had to leave in the rain for destination unknown; otherwise we would have damaged the boat on the rocks. All we have to offer is beer. I dry off a bit, take a six pack, and walk over to the house with this meager offering of thanks. On the way to the house I step on a thorn but ignore it. After some introductory words with his wife Liana (sp?) she introduces me to Martko (Matthew in Croatian). They offer me some schlivovitz and have me sit down on the sheet-covered sofa. They are clearly thrilled that I have come to pay them a visit.

Martko had polio as a two year old and walks with two canes and great difficulty. His upper body is big and strong from years of supporting his body on the canes. He was an English teacher in Croatia before he retired. As a side hobby, he took photographs and sold them; the proceeds were used to build this house – I presume a second home. He is a collector of stamps. There is a large model boat against a wall (in a case? I forget). He built it from scratch. The walls are covered in artwork – not his. Many books. His family were all fisherman – he understands the water but does not get out on it much. He knows the water very well in front of his house and so was able to guide us off of the rocks. Milna (like milli = 1000), the port of 1000 ships is very well protected in all weather. Mary Queen of Scots used it, as did pirates, there is a fort at the center of town, the king (queen?) used to provide food to the local peasants in exchange for their loyalty. What? I don’t know about the genocide of the Polish educated elite in the 30’s prior to WWII? I must have learned about it in school. Oh … he thought I was Polish. Liana explains that no … I am American. She understands me but does not speak English too well. When they buy olive oil in Milna, they get the best quality and a very low price – tourist pay more. My head is spinning from the very rapid sequence of events of the last hour. I tell them I really must be getting back to the boat; thank you for the drink; can I take their photo to remember them by; thanks again for his advice from the window. Come back and say “hello” if we are ever in Milna again.

Back at the boat, things are quiet. It has stopped raining, the sky is starting to clear. Lynn and Jeff are out on a reconnaissance search for a dinner spot and some snacks and bread. Showers then cocktails and hors-d’oeuvres. The sky turns red, boding well for tomorrow. We have dinner up the hill at Galicija. Great freshly caught mackerel (caught by the owner’s brother), a bad bottle of wine – replaced by the house and the total for 6 of us came to 880 kn – the lowest price for dinner for us. Four of us walk around the harbor by churches and homes and boats and cats and old stone walls. We have drinks at an open bar. Stars, moon, Jeagermeister and schlivovitz on the water in an ancient town.

We have a big egg breakfast then walk into town. We visit back alleys and churches. It is a long thin harbor. Plenty of neglected buildings just back from the main road around the harbor. It is getting hot. We reconvene back at the boat and shove off (the German boat was gone earlier). As we pull away, Martko is at the window and we all wave goodbye. We sail a short sail, maybe an hour and pull into Necujam harbor to get gas. There is a long line of boats with the same idea so we drop anchor and relax for a while. A quick dive below confirms the scrapes on the bottom of the rudder. We sun, swim and have lunch. The gas line is short after a couple of hours and we raise anchor and get in line. The dock is multi-height and we scuff the gelcoat on the side of the boat on a high spot that the fenders miss (need to remember to look for this sort of thing in the future).

 

 

We head toward Trogir in 20 kts, a run, and do 6.5 kts. Then motor-sail the last 1/2 hour on a beat and hit 7.8 kts. We are supposed to have the boat back at 6pm and arrive at 6:05. Not bad for us. We no sooner have our lines secured when the gas-can boat pulls in beside us. The captain has caught 15 keeper octopus during their week sailing. They are required to throw the little and big ones back. He knows all of the best spots for octopus catching – he is from Brac. It is an art. They needed the additional gas to cook the octopus. They never went ashore for dinners but had octopus almost every day. Their group has been sailing together for 20 years.

In speaking with a woman on the boat she mentions that Kostrena is known for producing sea captains. I mention the property in Sv. Vid. She tells me that traditionally in Croatia, the village elders knew where the property lines were and who owned each property. Since being admitted to the EU, land documentation has been required. There is, by law, 20 year squatter’s rights. She suggests that maybe if we go to Sv. Vid each year for a few years, the village elders would agree that we had rights to the land. She thinks we should come back to Croatia often – regardless. Korcula town is fairy-tale-like – we should visit it.

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A SCUBA diver comes by to inspect the bottom of the boat. I’m holding my breath about the scratches on the bottom of the rudder. Lynn starts chatting him up and taking photos of him as he goes into the water and as he comes back out. If he saw anything, he did not mention it. They were small scratches, probably of no consequence. He was too busy being charmed by Lynn anyway.

The wind picks up then it storms like hell – we wait it out below decks before our dinner search. While waiting we do some accounting. Mar estimated $900/couple for additional expenses including all groceries, meals, beverages, docking fees. We are currently at $800 per couple for expenses in Croatia. PDG.

 

After the rain stops, we take a wet walk into old Trogir and find Alka that is recommended by the receptionist at Waypoint. Service and food are both great. We have john dorie, bream, sea bass, tomato soup (so good!) and then head back to the boat after a very leisurely dinner. Frank repacks some liquids (olive oil, gin) in the kitchen and we have a final round of Madonna (Marlena?).

We rise at 7am and pack. We are off the boat by 8:50, store our luggage in the
office and take a walk through old Trogir in the daylight. There are a lot of people. Lots of shops and restaurants and ancient sights.

 

 

 

 

Mar and I have breakfast on the quay; eggs, bright tasty tomatoes, and really good cucumbers.

 

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We hear a singer on guitar and later talk with him. He has sailed to Florida in his younger days as a merchant man. He bends my ear for a while. Going into a church/museum, we need 20 kn to get in. I thought that I had some left, but search all my pockets and can’t find any. Marlene reaches toward me, and pulls a 20 kn out of my shirt pocket – like a magician. I can’t believe it and am instantly laughing and crying. I walk up the narrow, curvy steps to the top of the bell town for some great views of the town and surrounding area.

Back at the boat our transport to the airport arrives at 11:30 in a

good-sized van. The ride is much more comfortable than on the way over. I have stashed the last 6 beers in my backpack and pull them out on the ride to the airport – they are a well received surprise as the day is getting very warm.

The airport is crazy busy with the waiting areas jammed full of people. It is reminiscent of Greece. We say goodbye to the Hipples who are headed to Paris.

It was a very memorable trip.

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• There were lots of all-guy boats
• We had wi-fi on the boat but we were sucking up usage until all phones were turned off
• I had various calls from tenants and vendors – all went smoothly – time difference no problem
• Where was the guy on the dock catching octopus?
• There was lots of American/English music everywhere
• Jeff and Lynn ended up with lots of bruises, but Jeff had the most by count and severity
• We never felt hustled anywhere
• We always felt really safe
• It seems like many Croatians are very talkative – or like to talk to Americans
• There is very high unemployment in the country according to one of the taxi drivers
• I should always sail with goggles – for looking at the bottom of the boat if necessary
• I need to review how to use spring lines to spring off of a dock
• It is a good thing Mar had downloaded the cruising guide – the one on board was useless
• The waiters were all really pleasant – all male
• Tipping was not expected
• Three (3) Marlenas had a lot of fun and looked great

  

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