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 3rd 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.