Saturday 13th October 2012

As I write, we're sitting in a hotel in France, on the last leg of our long journey across Europe and back to Jersey, so clearly the boating season has come to the end for another year, but before we get home I just wanted to detail the last couple of weeks, which turned out to be some of the best of the whole year.
We picked Adrian up from the airport early on a warm Saturday morning and sped back to Sibenik in order to take advantage of the calm seas and beautiful conditions. A few hours later we were on our way back down river and out to open sea, with a course set for Zadar, a town on the Croatian coast that we had read about but hadn't previously visited. It was a relatively long trip, mainly because we were pottering along at only 10 knots, and there were a number of islands along the route that we hadn't stopped off at this summer, so when we reached one of them, Pasman, we decided to nose into an anchorage for a quick look. It turned out to be simply sensational, a small, almost perfectly circular inlet bordered by trees all along the shore, and as the yacht that was anchored in the best position was just leaving, we immediately decided to take his place and have a swim before moving on. Our stay was relatively brief, but the beauty of the spot made it memorable, and we promised ourselves a return visit if time allowed.
Zadar, on the other hand, turned out to be a complete disappointment. It's probably a very nice place, but the marinero waved us first of all into a really unwelcoming spot on the quay which we rejected and then agreed to let us go alongside in front of a catamaran in a slightly better position. But once we had tied up, we realised that the whole quayside was getting a regular battering of wake from the ferries arriving and departing regularly on the other side of the harbour, so before we had even plugged in the electrics and water, Frank went up to the marina office to tell them that we weren't staying, and instead we crossed the channel to Ugljan, the nearest island from Zadar, and the quaintly named Olive Island Marina (Ugljan meaning olive). Once tied up, our spirits lifted - the environment was beautiful, a really peaceful, pretty marina, neatly tucked in where the only wind that would affect us would be the bora from the north east. We checked the forecast: a bora was due in from the northeast! Fortunately a huge Azimut - Zaffina's much larger cousin we think - was tied on the other side of the pontoon, offering us a fair degree of protection, so we were relaxed about our position. In the morning, the Azimut suddenly departed! We debated whether to move on, but decided to sit out the predicted weather conditions where we were, which turned out to be just as well, as the winds never materialised and we had a lovely, peaceful couple of nights in the marina. The three of us took a long walk along the coast, through little villages that are probably humming in the height of the season, but by October were extremely quiet, and had a great lunch at a small restaurant in the largest resort on the island, which itself was little more than a small village.
We departed from Olive Island Marina over a still-as-glass sea, heading northwest to an island we've visited several times, Dugi Otok, but this time our destination was an anchorage that Frank had spotted from overhead when flying home, on the northernmost tip of the island. The trip was a delight, and when we got the anchorage at Veli Rat there were hardly any boats around, so again, we were able to take a great position in an empty bay. Adrian and I went straight into the water and had a really good swim; his idea of a really good swim is about a mile at full speed, whilst mine is a fraction of that distance at a lazy breast stroke! Although it was hot, the weather was really close and there were a lot of black clouds hanging around, so it wasn't a great surprise when, as we were eating dinner at a  restaurant in the nearest village, we heard grumbles of thunder and saw the unmistakeable signs of a storm approaching. We quickly finished our meal, but by the time we were piling into the dinghy, the rain was pouring down and flashes of lightning illuminating the night sky. We must have been quite a sight as we zoomed back over the still calm water, me sitting in the bow of our little dinghy with an umbrella over my head, whilst Frank and Adie, laughing in the storm, got utterly drenched behind me. Our way was lit by the lightning, briefly giving us a snapshot impression of the sea ahead before we were plunged back into darkness and when we eventually got back to Zaffina, I dragged Frank into the sea for a skinny dip. That was before I realised we could have got electrocuted, and it was fab!
In the morning we moved on again, taking a different route back to the island of Pasman and although the weather was a bit iffy the sea was calm and the trip was beautiful. The further we went, the better the weather got and as we cruised along the south coast of Pasman, the views were simply gorgeous, as were the conditions. We dropped the hook back in the anchorage we had found a few days earlier, this time with a couple of lines to shore holding us neatly in position and there we stayed for two nights, enjoying perfect, perfect conditions and loving every minute of it. To add to the perfection, a flash of bright blue skimming along the water resolved itself into a tiny kingfisher which was soon joined by another, giving us another exceptional memory of this lovely place.
We ate on board the first night and on the second, we went across to the tiny konoba set into the corner of the little cove and had a very simple but very good dinner, with warm friendly service - just as it should be! The anchorage was a real discovery, and so late in the season it was lovely to know that there was still a lot of Croatia to be revealed to us.
Our third and final trip through the Kornati Islands was just as special as the previous two had been. The sea was still smooth as silk and the beauty of the islands as impressive as ever as we meandered slowly between them, eventually stopping at the biggest settlement on the Kornati which comprised 40 houses and 3 restaurants. We tied to a buoy just offshore and for the rest of the day just savoured our surroundings before hopping in the dinghy and visiting the tiny church we had passed en route with a ruined castle towering on the nearby hillside. The climb up to the ruins was quite an effort in the still heat but the view from the top made it worthwhile; it really was extraordinary and with the sun moving down in the sky, the particular light of late afternoon just added another dimension to the picture.
Back on Zaffina, we ate in the cockpit and enjoyed a glorious sunset before one of our most peaceful nights at sea, without a single wave noise on the hull to disturb us. Emotions were mixed when we rose in the morning; this was to be our last day at sea, but Croatia was determined that it should be a memorable one (another!) Frank called me out into the cockpit as I was getting the breakfast things together - half a dozen donkeys were wandering loose around the little village! We watched them for a while as they meandered along the shore, poking their noses into restaurants and clattering along the narrow streets with their noisy hooves! I went in for an early swim, which was to be my last of the season, and swam to where I could watch these docile beasts, at which point one started biting another...not so docile after all! After breakfast, we set a course through the southerly Kornati and back to Potkucina, an anchorage we have come to know well, where we dropped the anchor for one last time. Well, it should have been the last time, but a breeze came up in the afternoon so we had to move from our previously sheltered position to a site around the corner and re-anchor out of the wind! And then, all too soon, it was time to make that last journey back to port, up the Krka River and into Marina Mandalina, which is to be Zaffina's home until we return to her next year.
What a season it  has been - the best ever, and that's saying something. Thank you to everyone who joined us along the way and contributed to the adventure, thank you to Zaffina for being the star of the show and to Frankle for being the most amazing skipper, companion and husband,  and thank you to you, for reading my blog. See you next year. x

Friday 28th September 2012

I don't usually do two posts in one week, but I'm in disgrace with my skipper because I forgot to mention the firefighting aircraft. And he's right, they do deserve to be mentioned.
When we got back to Croatia after our trip home, there were fires everywhere; loads of blackened land alongside the motorway and a big swathe of burnt hillside high above Trogir. Over the next week or so, we frequently saw plumes of smoke where the fires had either re-ignited or new ones had caught - a sad sight indeed, especially knowing that for some people the flames were scarily close to their homes.
The firefighting aeroplanes are brilliant. They're quite small, bright yellow and skilfully handled and boy do they make a difference when a blaze is out of control as we've seen on several occasions.
We were anchored on the Krka River, I think it was the afternoon of the day our last guests arrived, enjoying the solitude and the sunshine, when we saw another stain of dark smoke smudging the blue sky over the ridge of land between us and the open sea. Although it was too far away for us to see the fire itself, we could tell from the colour and intensity of the smoke that it was quite a blaze and clearly increasing in size.
We heard a roar, and a firefighting plane appeared close by, heading upriver parallel to our little creek. I was sunbathing on the bow without much in the way of clothes on, when suddenly the plane banked over the trees and came right overhead - and when I say overhead, I mean overhead, by just a few feet! I grabbed my towel around me, leaned up and waved at the pilot who managed, very calmly, to wave back before descending to sea level just in front of Zaffina and scooping up a load of water to dump on the fire. It was quite a moment! Two more planes banked around and carried out the same procedure but not quite as close as the first one, and then all three headed off towards the smoke and were clearly successfully in dousing the flames, judging by the decreased volume of smoke.
We're full of admiration for the pilots; they really know how to handle their aircraft, as picking up a load of water like that takes an enormous amount of skill and a very steady hand. The difference they make to controlling a fire is tremendous, and watching them is fascinating.
And then of course, you've heard about the following week in my last blog...confused yet? Me too! But to bring things up to date, we spent a couple of nights in Tribunj which was very picturesque, very unspoilt and very very quiet. The wind really came up on the first night and gave us a good hammering, and the following day it was still quite blowy. Frank had gone for a kip and I was in the cockpit reading when I realised that a nearby yacht, which was trying to leave port, was having trouble getting off it's mooring. I ran over to give a hand, and with one of the crew, pushed at the hull of the yacht as the skipper tried to manoeuvre it away from the pier. The wind kept blowing it back and the rest of the crew were pretty darn hopeless about getting the fenders in place; I wasn't surprise to see that it had a fair few scratches down the hull! Eventually we started to make a bit of a difference, but just before she finally got out of the berth, the yacht came back for one last slam against the pier, forcing a sheet of water up between the hull and the wall and giving me a rather unwelcome cold shower! So much for being a Good Samaritan!
Later in the day Frank and I had a lovely walk around the town and up to the little church which stands on the top of a small hill alongside, passing fourteen stations of the cross on the steep climb and culminating in a fabulous view across towards the Kornati Islands. After the exertion of the climb, we went for a longish walk along the sea front, imagining what a delightful place it must be in the height of the summer.
After our second night in port, this one much calmer than the first, we put out to sea again and made a brief, uneventful and very pleasant journey back to Potkucina, a favourite anchorage which we've used on many occasions. This time we went into a different bay within the same area and as usual, almost as soon as we were tied up, a boatman appeared to charge us for the buoy. We've seen him on numerous occasions, so this time we invited him on board for a coffee, to his surprise and I think delight!
The day was a real bonus and far better than the forecast had predicted, and once on our own again, we sunbathed and swam the afternoon away before dining in the cockpit and watching another sensational sunset. We even swam after dinner, in a deep, dark, moonlit sea...tres romantique!
The night, which started off peaceful, got progressively noisier as the wind came up and although it was never uncomfortable, it was quite noisy so we didn't hang around for too long after breakfast the following morning. Frank charted a course back to Sibenik, and although it was a bit of a bumpy trip, Zaffina - as always - took it in her stride and gave us an easy ride. Sibenik is part way up the Krka River, and of course, once we were in the shelter of the river, conditions were lovely again, to the extent that we decided to stop off before going into port, dropped the hook in a completely sheltered inlet and had the bonus of another sunny afternoon on the water. There was a slight contre temps when I swam ashore with a rope to tie to a handy tree; when I tried to return to Zaffina with it, the rope was slightly too short and I was left floudering around, trying unsuccessfully to pull it as far as the stern so we could make fast. Eventually I had to admit defeat and swim back to the tree in order to tie my knot there, which meant another swim to retrieve the rope later. In the late afternoon, clouds came over so we upped anchor and went into Marina Mandalina and onto what is now considered Zaffina's berth.
Both yesterday and today have been spent in port; yesterday Frank had meetings with the two companies vying to provide a winter service for us and then we took the Jag and did a restock at the mall supermarket and today has been a cleaning the boat day. We had hoped to perhaps get back out into the river but although it's been warm, the sun never really came through, so we stayed in port and now Zaffina is gleaming again thanks to a certain amount of elbow grease.
Adrian arrives first thing tomorrow morning, and so begins our last week of the season.

Monday 24th September

After humming and ha-ing for a bit over which marina to be in when our guests arrived, we finally decided that the best place was Skradin and with that in mind, we pottered up the now familiar Krka River to the little port and tied up on the quay. Previously we've been in the marina which is fairly close, but the quay is just the best place to be, as there are plenty of comings and goings and loads to watch. Our guests arrived fairly late in the evening, but not too late to open a bottle of champagne to celebrate their arrival before we got everyone settled in, with the warning that they would have to be up at a reasonable hour the next morning!
And they were...which meant that we were able to get the first boat up to the national park where the famous waterfalls are situated. Although Frank and I had been there twice before, the impact of these beautiful falls was as strong as ever, and along with Con and Gill and Bob and Janet, we walked the nature trail and then bathed in the fairly cool waters before returning to Skradin in the early afternoon. Once back, it was a quick turnaround and then we were on our way, easing back down the river and out to sea - a fabulously calm sea, the colour intensified by the cloudless blue skies overhead. Our destination for night 2 was Dugi Otok (which translates as Long Island) and a secluded anchorage we visited much earlier in the season when we had Charles and Liz and Tim and Annabel with us. This time there were more boats around and we were just minutes too late to pick up the last available buoy but that didn't really matter, as we found a quiet corner and dropped the anchor in solitude. A short while later, a little motor boat appeared on the horizon and zipped its way towards us. Once it was close, we could make out that it was a grocer's boat, filled with fruit and veg, all on offer for weary travellers who hadn't bothered to stock up sufficiently before they left port. Sadly for them, we were well provisioned, but Con promised that if they returned in the morning, he would buy a watermelon and some bread. They did; he did. The evening was lazy and relaxed, sitting in the cockpit eating lasagne and drinking rather good Croatian red wine (Zlatan Plavac, since you asked), and went by all too quickly.
Frank and I had promised ourselves a return visit to the Kornati Islands when we visited earlier in the year and with the sea still utterly calm and the weather pretty gorgeous, we motored down from Dugi Otok to the northern end of the Kornati National Park and then meandered between the islands, enjoying the sunshine and getting a good look at this fascinating place. Its impossible to describe these amazing islands in any way that does them justice as they are in many cases somewhat featureless and barren (see what I mean) but they have a haunting beauty all their own. Several enormous crosses lying flush high on a hillside were a memorial to the sixteen (we were told) people who died in a fire on one of the islands a couple of years ago. Nobody was quite sure how things got so out of hand, but there were fears that some old explosive device or a deposit of flammable liquid had been in the path of the fire and blown up when the firefighters were too close to escape the inferno. The youngest was a teenager.
Our trip through the Kornati took several hours and once we reached the southern end of the park, Frank pushed the throttles forward and turned Zaffina towards the island of Vis. We arrived in the town of Komiza just in time to get the very last place in port and tied up between a small motorboat and a fishing boat, which was sadly attracting rather more than its fair share of flies! The swatters went into overdrive and we managed to deplete the fly population quite significantly, but never quite enough to stop them bothering us! One of the reasons for heading to Komiza was to try a restaurant that F and I had earmarked on a previous visit, so we went haring up there almost as soon as we were tied up, in order to book a table. And were completely out of luck! The restaurant was booked out for a function and we had to settle for a pleasant but not especially memorable meal at another place nearby. Fortunately its situation, right on the waterfront, added to the evening, as did the company of course!
After a couple of lovely days, the forecast was threatening that things were about to change and so we took advantage of a lull before the storm to anchor off for another night, returning to an inlet near Vis Town for a peaceful night on the water. In the morning, with clouds gathering, we crossed to Palmizana, the marina just a short water taxi ride from Hvar, and managed to blag our favourite place, tied up to a tiny quay. Surprisingly, the clouds dispersed, so we took the taxi to Hvar and had a fun afternoon wandering around the town and trying out a few cocktails en route before returning to Palmizana as the clouds regrouped. And then it was two days of rain, storms, wind and high seas, which saw us venturing out only to get wet or to head over to Zori, another favourite restaurant about 15 minutes walk from the marina, where we enjoyed a couple of excellent meals and yet more of that very good wine. Well, you have to do something to cheer yourselves up when the weather turns foul!
With just two days left once the rain had passed, we knew that we had to abandon our original plan of taking our guests to Brac and instead, when we nosed out of port, we turned back to the north and the island of Solta. We had expected the sea to be pretty lumpy after the conditions we'd been experiencing for the previous couple of days, but it was nothing of the sort, and we ended up thoroughly enjoying the two hour trip to Maslinica. On previous occasions when we'd been there, the port had been crammed to the gunnels with motorboats and yachts; this time, we shared the place with jut a handful of other craft. We were directed to moor alongside two medium sized motorboats and were surprised, once we were tied up, to hear our neighbours ask the marineros if they could move! Apparently, we had stolen their sunlight!! We thought the whole idea was rather ridiculous, but our (English) neighbours were deadly serious and rather put out when another boat came in and promptly went into the berth they'd hoped to move to. Relations were somewhat strained between our boat and theirs from then on, with rather a lot of rude comments about small boats being put in the shade and how awful it is to be overshadowed...
Our last day all together was spent in lovely conditions in a little anchorage on the island of Drvenik. Last time we were there, we'd had a real problem with getting the anchor to hold and had to try about a dozen times before we were finally made fast; this time, fortunately, everything went like clockwork and we were secure within minutes! A yacht came in and anchored quite close, and I mentioned to Frank that it looked familiar. After a while, we swam over and chatted with the owners, discovering that we had last seen them three years ago in Portugal, when the husband had come on board Zaffina for a drink and a chat in the little port of Villa Real de Santo Antonio!
Having a chef on board has it's advantages, as we found out when Bob took over the barbecue for lunch and then prepared his famous "peaches au Bob" for desert! It was a wonder that we still floated when we went back in the water later, but surprisingly we did...just! After the last swim, it was time to up anchor and head into Trogir and another great place on the quay. The town was still fairly lively, despite it now being so late in the season, and we went ashore for a light supper before an early night. And then Janet gave us one final, perfect moment, when she stepped back on board Zaffina, knocked the water hose that was connecting us to the shore and gave herself an impromptu shower on the bathing platform! Strangers were stopping to stare at the sight of five of us convulsed with laughter and the sixth doing a good impression of a drowned rat! It was an appropriate, if unexpected, culmination to a week filled with laughter, fun and friendship.
The silence seemed very loud the following day, when Bob, Janet, Con and Gill departed and we were alone again. A quick trip to the supermarket to stock up on food and the green market for flowers was followed by a trip to the refuelling berth to stock up on fuel and then we were on our way again...all of one mile to a peaceful anchorage where we could quietly recover from the excesses of the previous week! We stayed there for one utterly still and very beautiful night before heading down to Split and checking into the marina.
And then I was really alone. Frank flew back to Jersey and I had two days and one enormous thunderstorm on my own. A mighty crack of thunder woke me at 2.30am and the noise and the flashes of lightning then kept me awake until 5...not the best of nights. However, I managed to console myself with a trip to Split's biggest shopping mall the following day - but that's not saying a great deal! By the time Frank came back, two days later, Zaffina was sparkling again and we were ready to put back to sea, this time heading south and back to the island of Brac. The wind was behind us, giving us a great trip as we crossed the channel from the mainland, and when we reached our chosen anchorage, all was calm and incredibly beautiful...but rather cool! We both wore sweaters for the first time since early Spring (apart from on visits home) and when we went out to dinner, it really felt quite cold sitting outside. A plate of steaming veggie soup followed by an enormous pile of piping hot lamb cutlets both cheered and warmed us!
In the morning we debated whether to head up towards Sibenik and a small marina we'd seen but never visited at Tribunj or to delay the trip. In the end, we did a bit of both, making a short hop from Brac over to Stari Grad on the island of Hvar, where we had another night in complete isolation in an utterly beautiful and unspoilt position, and then yesterday (our 6th wedding anniversary) we completed the trip to Tribunj, again with the wind behind us and the sun beaming from a cloudless sky.
And now, safely tied up in port, the wind is blowing a hooley, waves are smacking the hull and all the ropes are creaking, but we are snug and happy and still enjoying this wonderful country.

Thursday 6th September 2012

It’s raining and there’s a storm on the horizon, but I have no complaints. Since we’ve been back in Croatia after our visit home and then to Ireland for the wedding of the year (or maybe the century), we’ve been blessed with fantastic conditions, despite a forecast promising doom and gloom.

On our return, half of the region around Split was ablaze! We could smell smoke as we stepped down from the aeroplane and out taxi driver told us that there had been thirty fires that day, most of them started deliberately, and the motorway was closed as the land alongside was still burning. We stayed in Sibenik for a couple of nights, which gave us time to get to the hypermarket and restock before heading out to Potkucina, a now favourite anchorage, to meet fellow sailors from Jersey.

David and Angela were on Minkie, along with their 7 and a half year old, Freddie (he says the half is very important), and had just done a similar trip up to Istria as we did a few months ago. We compared notes and anchorages over a lazy lunch in the sun and then waved them off towards Sibenik where they were due to finish their holiday.

Although we expected things to be quieter on our return, Potkucina was still full, with around 60 buoys all occupied by boats of varying sizes. The water was as we remembered, deliciously warm, and we idled a couple of days away in situ, venturing only as far as the little town of Kaprja on the nearby island of the same name. To our disappointment, the early morning bread run had been discontinued in our absence, so the fresh loaf we so looked forward to was mourned as we tucked into a mundane bowl of cornflakes for breakfast! However, that was the biggest disappointment of our stay, and the sea conditions which had been so lovely remained perfect for our trip down to Trogir to pick up guests.  Approaching the town in dire need of a swim, we found an anchorage just a stone’s throw away and dropped the hook for a short while, just long enough to jump into the sea and cool off before heading into port and tying up for the evening.

Rosie and Em arrived a short while later and, like us, immediately fell in love with this delightful little town. Whilst they went off to explore – and buy sunglasses – I prepared dinner, which we ate in the cockpit whilst watching the world go by.  Trogir was still humming and after dinner we went ashore for a drink, stopping en route to watch the street entertainers and artists all plying their trade along the waterfront.

With the weather forecast suggesting strongish winds and the likelihood of stormy showers, we set sail in the morning, arriving in Palmizana a couple of hours later. The sun was still shining, much to our surprise, enabling us to spend most of the afternoon lying out on deck and just enjoying this unexpected meteorological treat! Instead of dodging the showers, we ended up dining under the stars in Hvar, as (sadly) our favourite restaurant in the region, Zori, was hosting a wedding and unable to offer us a table. Fortunately Gariful provided us with a fabulous dinner in a beautiful setting, so the change of venue was completely painless! That night the moon was spectacular, the second (and therefore “blue moon”) of the month, rising over the ancient town of Hvar and casting an incredibly strong and yet soft light over the terracotta-tiled rooftops.

As the girls were only with us for four nights and the forecast was still iffy, we moved on the following morning, making for another favourite port, Maslinica. Again conditions were better, far better, than expected, the sea was comfortable, the wind behind us completely negated by the wind we were creating, and although we failed to get into an anchorage close to our final destination, where we had hoped to tie up for an hour or two before going into port, it really didn’t matter. Once we were in port and safely attached to land, the dark clouds that had been promised finally materialised and we watched from the comfort of our cabin as other boats came into shelter with the rain teeming down and the crew getting drenched as they moored up.

(Incidentally, on our way to Palmizana, we counted eighty yachts all heading towards the mainland; on our way from Palmizana the following day, at the same time and in similar conditions, we counted four! That’s the difference between 31 August and 1 September in Croatia!)

Dinner at the nearby hotel was excellent, as ever, although for the first time we had to eat indoors. By now the rain had given its all, and so when we finished our meal we wandered along to a nearby café for a nightcap. The last time we were in Maslinica, a male choir had performed on the quayside. This time the members of the same choir were having dinner and obviously enjoying themselves as they spontaneously burst into song between courses! As we were making our way back to Zaffina, they were leaving the restaurant and when we mentioned that we had heard them perform once before, they gave us another impromptu personal performance on the quay! It was a lovely way to finish what had been a great day.

Our final day with Rosie and Em saw us – eventually – at anchor in Drvenik. For some reason, the anchor refused time and again to hold on the seabed. We chose our position, dropped the hook and dropped back expecting it to catch, but it just dragged along the sea floor, allowing us to drift dangerously close to the shore before we pulled it up and tried again. We repeated the process around 10 times before eventually moving into deeper water around the corner, where to our relief, we successfully anchored up for the afternoon. It was worth the effort! Drvenik is a beautiful spot and provided an idyllic backdrop for a day of lazing, swimming, eating and drinking. As the afternoon drew to a close, it was back to Trogir and the anchorage we had discovered a few days earlier. Here the anchor held first time, and once secure, Zaffina sat motionless on a perfectly calm sea. We nipped into town on the dinghy before returning to the boat for dinner and a glorious night at anchor.

The girls were on an early flight, so it was up at 7 the following morning and on our way before 8. We tied up onto the refuelling pontoon and said our goodbyes after their short but fabulous stay with us, waving them off in a taxi before we got down to the serious business of filling the tanks.

With five days before our next visitors were due, we had a vague plan to head back to Hvar, possibly going to Stari Grad and then Palmizana, but en route I suggested that instead we explore the north coast of Brac, an area we had previously by-passed on our way to Hvar. It turned out to be a great decision. After hugging the coastline for a while, we turned up an inlet dominated by a huge quarry, and then nosed into the little town of Pucisca (pronounced Puchishta) where we were about to tie up starboard-to on the wall when I realised that just below the waterline, a rather nasty ledge jutted out! We swiftly moved away and reviewed our position, deciding to try for a spot further in and on the opposite side of the harbour, which proved to be much more suitable – especially when we discovered that our original spot was obviously reserved for ferries and tour boats!

Pucisca was tiny, totally unspoilt and with little commercialism other than a couple of stalls selling artefacts made from the local stone. As we ate dinner in the cockpit, flashes of sheet lightning illuminated the heavens and eventually the rain fell, teeming down as we went to bed. By morning, the storm had completely passed through, and we decided to remain in port for another night in order to get to grips with a host of tasks that needed to be completed on the boat. I changed all the beds and cleaned throughout, working the washing maching on overdrive and hanging a continuous display of sheets, T shirts and bathers along the decks to dry in the sun.

In the afternoon, we wandered along to a tiny, pebbly beach where we swam and sunbathed and tried to pretend that we weren’t English once we’d deduced that most of the other tourists around were – and none of them a day under 75!  We ate at a good restaurant where, surprisingly, we were the only guests and then returned to Zaffina for a nightcap, waving goodnight to the restaurant staff when they passed us five minutes later!

The following morning (yesterday) was grey, which gave me a chance to do my unfavourite chores – hoovering and washing the floors! With a sparkling boat, we debated whether to spend one final night in port, but eventually decided to make a quick hop to a nearby anchorage, which the pilot book claimed was one of the best in Croatia. We are often in disagreement with the views offered by the pilot book but on this occasion they got it bang on! Uvala Luka was stunning, absolutely stunning.  In this trefoil shaped inlet, we chose the middle and deepest creek, where we were pleased to see a number of buoys and one rather nice restaurant. As soon as we approached a buoy, a dinghy shot out from the shore with a marinero to assist us (and take our money), and within moments we were tied up and admiring the stupendous outlook from the anchorage. The sea was oily calm and looking back up the creek, the view was dominated by towering mountains on the mainland, coloured by small towns along the water’s edge, all definition enhanced by the light of a descending sun.

Although we originally intended to dine on board, the restaurant looked too inviting and so we succumbed to temptation and enjoyed a simple but utterly delicious meal of barbequed lamb and French fries!

And that’s why I’m not bothered by the weather today…it has been an exhilarating week, the sea is still calm and now we’re on our way back to Mandalina in readiness for Bob and Janet and Con and Gill who are due to arrive on Saturday.

(ps we outran the storm; the sun has come out again! And so much for there being no boats around now that we're into September...we've never seen so many yachts in such close proximity as we did today!)

Sunday 5th August 2012

We got a bit fed up with Kastela in the end. It wasn't the prettiest marina and the facilities were somewhat lacking, but we did have one great experience. The crew from one of the superyachts that was stuck in port with us invited us along to a barbeque on the breakwater and it turned out to be a brilliant evening. There were four or five massive yachts there, and all the crews know one another so when they have a do, everyone rocks up and contributes to the barbie. Very handy when you've got a chef on each boat...as the only private boaters there, we felt privileged to be included.
After a couple of days on our own, we returned to Sibenik in readiness for our next guests. Frank's grandchildren, Ben and Lucy, haven't been on Zaffina since we were with her in Jersey four years ago. We picked them up from Split airport late in the evening, aware that the forecast wasn't looking too great for the first few days of their stay. Sure enough, even as we drove back to the marina, flashes of lightning lit up the night sky. Fortunately we had the car at our disposal, and with no chance of going to sea for a while, we drove to the waterfalls at Krka and spent a fabulous afternoon exploring them with the youngsters, and swimming in the cool, refreshing waters at the bottom of the falls. As we were leaving, a couple of young guys suddenly appeared on the ledge of the falls, (in an area clearly out of bounds for swimmers) and dived from there down into the frothing waters. A pretty dangerous thing to do, but impressive nonetheless!
Our next outing was to the little town of Primosten, one we had tried to visit by boat but been unable to get into the marina due to our size. Although it had a certain charm, it wasn't quite as pretty as we had hoped, and with the temperature up into the high 30s, we didn't spend too long there, opting instead to head for a beach and the chance of a cooling dip. As soon as we set out our towels, the wind came up and the skies clouded over, so our outing was curtailed and we returned to the marina for a rather grey evening, brightened by a good meal at the Blue Frog.
It was a relief to eventually get to sea with the grandchildren the following day, but with the forecast still not great, we didn't want to go too far so we followed the coast down to Marina Frappa, in the hope that the swimming pool would be open for them to enjoy. It wasn't! Instead the heavens opened and we had a rainy afternoon in port followed by a very good dinner in the marina restaurant. The weather didn't dampen our spirits, but it was still a relief to see a good stretch of blue sky the following morning and to finally hear a forecast that promised better weather conditions. We left port early and turned back towards the north, this time weaving between the islands over a beautifully calm sea until we got to a delightful anchorage we recently discovered with the unusual name of Potkuchina. This was more like it! Ben and Lucy spent most of the afternoon and evening in the water, finally getting to enjoy the sort of holiday we had promised them! Our next stop was the gorgeous port of Maslinica on the island of Solta, and then we hoped to spend the following day and night at Drevenik, which is just a quick hop from the mainland. Again the wind thwarted our plans and although we had a great afternoon at anchor and the children got the chance to do some dinghy driving to the nearby town and back, we had to abandon our planned overnight stay and find a more sheltered spot on the mainland coast in which to anchor. In the morning, we had an early trip to Kastela where we hopped into a taxi to take our guests back to Split airport.
Once back on board, we struck out for Stari Grad on the north coast of Hvar, stopping at Milna on Brac for fuel en route. It was stonkingly hot and the refuelling took forever - I think the tanks were filling up drip by drip, which was bad enough for us but worse still for the boats waiting behind us in the queue! Getting back to sea was a huge relief, and we gulped in the breeze as we sped across the water to Hvar.
Stari Grad is accessed via a long inlet which has a number of creeks leading off it, so rather than going up into the town, we found a nice sheltered spot and dropped the anchor for the afternoon. And then it was so nice that rather than going up into the town for the night, we found an even better spot to drop the anchor and tie on a stern rope and we stayed there, in the company of about half a dozen yachts and tiny motor boats. Most of the larger motor boats opt to go into port for the night, whereas our favourite place to be is in a secluded anchorage with not a house in sight. In the morning we took a dinghy trip up to the town, which proved to be rather gorgeous and the perfect place for a spot of breakfast and people watching.
The forecast was now predicting that the wind would rise later in the day, so we decided that we would, after all, take Zaffina into port, and lunch time, when we reached the town, it was getting fairly blowy. The mooring procedure was tricky enough due to the conditions, but made more difficult when the two marineros seemed to have no idea of which space they wanted us to go in, directing us first to one and then the other, and then handed us two port side lazy lines and nothing for starboard. It wasn't a great arrival but we were still relieved to be tied on and happy to explore the pretty little town further. In the evening, we went to one of the many tiny restaurants in a narrow lane for dinner, and walking back to the boat, stopped to listen to some street entertainment.  An excellent group were playing rock songs from the 50s to a wildly appreciative audience, but it was a small child, aged about 3 or 4, who really caught our attention. He was completely lost in the music and danced like a lunatic on speed to every number, oblivious to the crowds around him and thoroughly enjoying himself. How I wish I'd had my video camera with me, he would have been a YouTube sensation!
With conditions looking better the next day we decided to venture out a full mile or two, back to our previous anchorage for one more night. Once the anchor was holding, I diligently swam to shore with a rope and tied us securely onto a rock, then repeated the process with another to make sure we were firmly in place. Later in the day, we put another rope out, confident that we were safe for the night. But the best laid plans....! At 1am our anchor alarm blared in the cabin, rousing us rudely from sleep, and bleary eyed we ventured up to the saloon to see that the wind had completely changed direction since we went to bed and although we were still in situ, we were getting rather too close to another boat for comfort. I was about to swim to shore when Frank had a brainwave, and instead we used the ropes already in place to pull the dinghy across to land and then spent about 45 minutes re-attaching those same ropes to other rocks, which would then prevent us swinging too far. It was a relief to crawl back into bed but a bit frustrating when the wind immediately dropped away to nothing, rendering all our hard work a bit of a waste of time!
Promising ourselves a return visit to Stari Grad later in the season, we put back to sea and made a short hop across to Sveti Klemente where we decided to anchor for a day and night. Anchoring, however, proved rather difficult! Every time we dropped the hook and fell back to make sure it was holding, the anchor dragged and Zaffina fell back rather further than we'd hoped. After five attempts we abandoned the spot we had hoped for and moved to another position, where we were relieved to hold fast on our first try. And at that moment a buoy became free, so we immediately pulled up the anchor and instead went and tied on! Sveti Klemente (or St Clement's to Jersey folk!) is one of the few places we've found where many of the superyachts chose to stay at anchor overnight, and now that we're into high season, it was suitably crowded that evening. We ate ashore, as the buoy we were on belongs to a nearby restaurant and whilst it is free to use, you are expected to give them your custom in return.
Last year, we briefly visited the island of Vis and although we quite enjoyed the experience, it didn't feature high on our list of favourite places. I had wanted to go back and give it another shot, and then some friends had suggested that we should visit a town on the far side of the island which we had missed out on last time, so early the following morning, we struck out across the channel between Hvar and Vis.
Before going into Komiza, (our destination) we tied onto a buoy for a while just outside the port, but by early afternoon we were getting worried that there would be no room left on the quay if we didn't grab a place soon (it is one of the few ports that you can't book a space in advance) and so we dropped the buoy and ventured into the marina whilst the sun was blazing down on us. The moment we were tied on (this time all went smoothly), we stood on the bathing platform and thoroughly enjoyed a cold shower! Later in the afternoon, we made our way to a tiny pebbly beach a few minutes walk from the port and whiled away a few hours watching the miniscule stretch of seafront get more and more crowded! When we left at about 6pm, there was a queue for our space and fresh towels down almost before ours had been rolled away!
Komiza was absolutely humming when we went out for dinner, with cafes and restaurants along the waterfront packed with noisy crowds, but the atmosphere was great and we fell in love with the little town. We chose a restaurant a bit further out than most, where we got the last table on a terrace overlooking the sea, but sadly it was just after dinner that we found the most perfect restaurant just a stone's throw further on, in an old lobster nursery. That one has been earmarked for the future and the telephone number noted so we can book well in advance!
After a quick shopping trip in the morning, we left Komiza and decided to have a quick look at Bisevo,  an island just four miles further on and a real favourite with the day trip boats. It was pretty enough, and we did try to stop off in on of the sheltered anchorages we found, but it was too crowded to get close in and the water too deep to anchor far out, so we abandoned the idea in favour of a return to Vis. As we were leaving, an Italian motor boat was heading up the creek with a skipper who either had no idea of or no regard for the rules of the water. Boats are always meant to pass one another port to port (ie your port side facing their port side) if there is limited space, but this one decided to try to cut across our bow and head for our starboard side, despite the fact that his route would have taken him straight into, rather than across, the aforementioned bow. We haven't seen such bad seamanship in a good while and it was the first time I'd ever heard Frank use the horn in anger (in addition to yelling loudly and shaking his fist  at the oncoming boat). They pulled round at the last moment, completely ignoring us and gazing steadily in the opposite direction, realising I think that they were entirely in the wrong and hopefully feeling embarrassed by the faux pas (but maybe not).
With that little episode behind us, we set sail back to Vis and opted to go into a deep and sheltered creek close to Vis town. We had been here last year and found, to our surprise, a submarine pen carved into the cliffside, and on that occasion we took Zaffina deep into it, just for the thrill of the experience! This time we anchored deeper up the creek and had a delightful afternoon and then night there, watching an enormous golden moon rising over the island and then sleeping on the flybridge under a canopy of stars. It was too beautiful to move, so yesterday we just stayed there, taking a dinghy trip across to Vis town to get some fuel during the day and then returning, again by dinghy, for a pizza dinner in the evening. When we got back to Zaffina, the moon had just risen and as we sat in the cockpit enjoying a last drink, a cascade of soulful notes floated across the still water; on one of the nearby boats, someone was playing the saxophone and after each number, cheers and applause came out of the darkness from everyone anchored in that little creek. It was a magical experience.
The magic evaporated at 3am! As I slept, Frank was woken by the wind and went on deck to see that we were getting uncomfortably close to a yacht that had come in last night and moored fairly near to us. He pulled in some anchor chain in the hope that this would solve the problem but returned to bed not entirely happy with the situation. At 5 he was up again and this time I heard him moving around; eventually the engines started up and I could tell that we were on the move. A short while later, we stopped again so I went upstairs to give Frank a hand and together we got the dinghy back on board and prepared Zaffina for departure. I went back to bed whilst he took the helm and when I woke an hour and a half later, we were well on the way to our next anchorage.
And now we're safely in Potkuchina, a lovely spot not far from Sibenik which is where we need to be in a couple of days time, ready to fly back to the UK on Wednesday and then on to Ireland the following week for a certain wedding. The bakery boat arrived shortly after we did, offering still warm loaves fresh from the oven, so despite the ups and downs of the last couple of weeks, life is still pretty fantastic.

17th July 2012

Crikey, that was all a while ago!
After the fighting Rabs (Rabians? Arabs?) and San Marinians, we had a couple of nights in a beautiful anchorage north of the walled town, where we did very little except while the hours away and enjoy the conditions. As usual we were one of just a couple of motorboats that spent the night at sea, all of our other neighbours were yachts, as the yachties seem far more confident about remaining in situ rather than heading into port for the night.
We knew we had to start heading south as we needed to leave Zaffina in Mandolina Marina for a trip back to Jersey, so early on a gloriously still morning, we pulled the anchor up and crossed the channel to a small island called Losinje, almost attached to the south of Cres, where we had to wait half an hour for the bridge to rise and the miniscule entrance to open and allow us through. Zaffina managed with little room to spare on either side and we were one of the largest boats passing through that morning, but my skilful skipper managed to make it look like child's play! Another day, another anchorage, and another beautiful spot on turquoise water. Here the most memorable aspect was the shoal of fish milling around Zaffina and following us when we dived into the water and swam around the boat - it was quite an experience. In the evening we went into the ACI marina and walked into town where we had a very good meal on the harbour-side and wondered why we hadn't checked if they had a berth there before we went into the marina! Still, the walk probably did us good, as did my cycle ride back the following morning to check out the shops. They weren't really worth the effort, although I did pick up a nice little rug for the boat and then had to cycle back with it balanced precariously in my rather tiny basket!
When we left Losinje later in the day, the wind was up and so we didn't want to stay at sea for too long.   As we motored down the coast, we kept a lookout for a sheltered spot in which to anchor and eventually found what we were looking for off the island of Ilovik, where the narrow channel was protected from the wind, the sea was calm and there was a row of handy buoys waiting for us. We wandered ashore early evening and immediately decided to abandon our plans of supper on board and instead eat at a beautifully sited restaurant on the water's edge. Sadly the food wasn't as memorable as the position, but it was still a grand evening, and watching the sun's lazy descent as we sipped our wine more than made up for the lack of culinary expertise.
Our next hop down the coast took us to an almost deserted anchorage off Molat, which became more crowded as the evening wore on; a couple of luxury motoryachts dropped anchor nearby and then  a small flotilla came in, almost causing us to up anchor and depart, but after some initial loud singing and noise, they quietened down and were peaceful neighbours.
We were up early and back to sea, where our wake caused the biggest movement on the water. We weaved between islands, retracing our steps to the south and recognising landmarks we had passed on our way up to Istria. Eventually we came in sight of Dugi Otok and from there it was an easy hop down to Zut, where the natural choice for dinner was Festa, a restaurant we visited a couple of weeks earlier. The weather was extremely hot and when we got back to the boat after an exceptionally good but painfully expensive meal, the electrics were turned off for the night (the power runs only till 11pm there) and the temperature was going through the roof. Without air con, there was no point in sleeping in our cabin so we took bedding up onto the flybridge where we settled for the night, which was fine until there was a heavy dew! At 5am, we crawled back to our now somewhat cooler cabin and continued our night's sleep!
And that was almost the end of our trip. We returned to Mandolina, from where we had set out three weeks earlier, bedded Zaffina down for a few days and flew home to Jersey and the rain.
Four days of catching up with friends and family was fun, even if the weather was depressing, but then it was back on Easy Jet and back to the south. Zaffina had been well cared for in our absence, probably because the marina staff know that we intend to leave her there for the winter and if they make a good impression now, they are in with a good chance of getting more business out of us later in the year. It was lovely to see her looking pristine, and after 24 hours in port, we were back to sea via the refuelling dock and heading back to the lovely village of Mandolina, stopping en route in a charming anchorage where the sea temperature was up to tepid and the water felt like silk.
Once tied up, we realised that the marina staff had made a grave error and put us next to a Guernsey boat! The resulting banter caused us to call in reinforcements, so we were relieved when we saw the familiar Jersey flag on a yacht approaching the harbour...Alex Ohlsson, Emma Smith, Chris and Ana Philpott to the rescue!! Realising that we were all going to be in the region at the same time, we had arranged to meet for dinner, little knowing that we would be in dire need of some Crapaud back up to hurl abuse at the Donkeys! Our long anticipated meal at the Martini Marchis Hotel lived right up to expectations, and having also enjoyed great company for the evening, we swiftly awarded the place three Walker Stars!
When our friends departed for Vis the following day, we set off back to Sveti Clemente opposite Hvar, where we anchored and lazed for a couple of days until they rejoined us for lunch on board, followed rather rapidly by dinner on the island! We managed a quick dinghy ride across to Hvar Town which was humming with tourists; it is now pretty much high season here, the towns are busy and so are the seas with dozens of yachts displaying billowing white sails as they scud along the water. At one point recently, we counted more than eighty yachts in fairly close proximity, offering us quite a navigational challenge!
With a place booked on the quayside at Trogir, we were meandering towards the port when I phoned them to say we were on our way. A very irate Marinero told me that if we weren't in within the next ten minutes, we would lose our spot, at which point we thrust the throttles forward and flew across the sea, arriving in the nick of time and taking one of the last berths on the waterfront. It was a great place to be when Christian and Leonie joined us the following morning, having flown down for the weekend! They did a whistle stop tour of the town as we prepared for departure, and once they were back on board, we dropped the ropes and turned to the south, back to Sveti Clemente and the anchorage we had so recently vacated. After the beautifully calm conditions we've experienced recently, it was a bit of a shock to find that the sea had come up a bit and we didn't get the smooth ride we were hoping for, so it was a relief to be safely in shelter with the anchor embedded and a rope from the stern to shore firmly attached to a sturdy tree. Despite our position, we opted to go into Palmezana for the night, partly because it meant we could easily get to Zori (yet another favourite restaurant) in time for dinner! We dined on the terrace, huge globes of paper lanterns swaying overhead like a row of full moons, and then  fought agressive cactus plants that dared to attack us on the way home! I had bought a couple of catapault parachute toys in Hvar which the boys shot up into the night sky and watched gliding back down, their tiny lights spinning through the darkness much to the amusement of other tourists who passed along the track.
When eventually we roused ourselves to move in the morning, we crossed to Hvar and followed the coastline around to Stari Grad where we nosed into a spectacular anchorage and dropped the hook. However, the wind was determined to thwart our every move and after about half an hour, we realised that our position was not suited to the suddenly altered wind direction and tried to find a more sheltered spot. No luck; every which way we turned, we were followed by the wind, until eventually we abandoned the anchorage altogether and set off to find somewhere better. Half an hour later, a tiny inlet provided the shelter we needed and the anchor was despatched once more, this time more successfully although the breeze remained with us throughout the afternoon. Any plans to stay at sea for the night had to be shelved, and instead we returned to Solta and the lovely port of Maslinica a day earlier than planned. Fortunately the hotel was able to bring our dinner booking forward by 24 hours and after another culinary treat, we wandered around the harbour to a waterside cafe for a nightcap. Christian and Leonie naturally gravitated towards the one club in the place but to our amusement and their astonishment, when they went through the door they discovered that despite the flashing strobe lights and music blaring out, the "club" was the size of a small cupboard with just room for two people inside!  After a few dance floor moves, which provided a certain amount of amusement to the onlookers, they abandoned plans to let their hair down and we returned to Zaffina for a peaceful night.
Again the wind was up in the morning, delaying our departure, and when eventually we did get out of port, we made a short hop to the anchorage we had found on the island of Drvenik, nicely situated between Solta and the mainland coast, and found to our relief that the water was as warm and silky as we remembered. Any hopes of having our last night with Chris and Leonie at anchor were dashed when we heard the forecast - a strong wind warning for the region - so reluctantly, we sailed back to the mainland coast, booking into Kastela Marina for the night. A good move really, as by the time we were tied up, the wind started to rise and didn't stop until it was howling through the halyards and putting our ropes under severe strain. The new cleats we had attached to the stern during the winter came into good use, with two extra ropes put out to hold us firmly in position through the storm. Just before the wind arrived, the temperature, which had been pretty warm throughout the day, went through the roof and at the same time, dozens of tiny flies descended on us, but both heat and insects dissipated once the gusts started in earnest.
Two days later and we are still wind bound in port; Christian and Leonie departed yesterday afternoon and whilst their stay was all too brief, it was wonderful to have them here, although it seemed a bit strange without Adam, who has always accompanied them in the past but this year is cycling his way around Europe. Only one month and one day until we all meet up in Ireland for Christian and Leonie to tie the knot. I just hope the wind has dropped by then!

Tuesday 26th June

The temperature suddenly shot up when we reached Istria, to the extent that doing anything was an effort, so the air con came into play and the screens went up on the side windows to try to bring the heat down in the saloon. After a night in port, during which time we got a new battery for the generator, we were glad to get back out to sea where there was at least a bit of a breeze. We meandered along the coast to a lovely anchorage and then spent half of the afternoon in the water, as five minutes in the sun meant you needed to get back into the sea to cool off! We debated staying at anchor for the night but in the end went into Pula as we wanted to fill the tanks and then check out of Croatia by the following morning. The approach to Pula is past a broken down breakwater, half of which is now under water, and then up a long channel, and once you get to the port, the first thing that you see is an incredible Roman amphitheatre dominating the shoreline. The next thing you notice is a truly disgusting block of flats right on top of the marina! The only consolation is that the flats will be gone in another decade or two, whilst hopefully the amphitheatre, which was built and in use around the time of Christ, will still be there in another two centuries time. It was dusk by the time we had fuelled up, moored up and made our way into the town to see this Roman construction and it really was amazing. You can go down into the tunnels beneath the theatre and get an idea of what it must have been like for those waiting to "perform". Terrifying. When we came back up, the sun had gone down and hundreds of swallows were flying through the arched colonnades, it was an awesome sight. In the morning, we moved to the Q berth as instructed, in order to complete the check out facilities, where we moored beneath the prow of an enormous sailing cruise ship! The sea, when we came out of port, was just perfect - barely a ripple to disturb the surface, and the trip we had across the Adriatic was one of the best ever, to the extent that, eight miles out from land, we stopped Zaffina and jumped in! An amazing experience! Eventually land came into sight on the horizon - Italy (which was just as well, as that's where we were aiming for!) We sailed Zaffina into the lagoon and up to a marina opposite the island of Burano, where the Marinero was blowing kisses to me even before we had her tied up! It was still so hot that once everything was sorted, we put the bathing ladder down and swam in the lagoon. We knew we had to complete the arrival formalities, so got a taxi into St Mark's in order to visit the customs office. When eventually we found it, the staff were remarkably disinterested in us, to the extent that we wondered if we were in the right place. We were. Eventually someone looked at our passports, glanced at Zaffina's papers and sent us on our way without stamping or noting anything...all in all, a complete waste of time! Still, we were in Venice, and that was all that really mattered. We stopped for a drink at Florian's (which cost the same as dinner for 2 with a bottle of wine the previous evening in Croatia) before returning to the marina and a very good meal in a restaurant overlooking the lagoon. And then the next day, we achieved our ultimate boating dream...sailing Zaffina into the centre of Venice, past St Mark's Square, the Doges Palace, the Campanile, Santa Maria della Salute and San Georgio and over to the one, solitary berth outside the hotel Cipriani. What an experience! I was a bit apprehensive about tying up to those mooring posts so typical of Venice, but Frank brought her alongside so neatly that getting the ropes in place wasn't a problem. One of the pool staff was on hand to take the stern ropes and within minutes we were made fast, and hugging each other with delight as we surveyed our breathtaking surroundings. We had to take a room in the Cipriani (no great hardship really) but on Frank's instigation, we were presented with a silver service dinner in the cockpit of Zaffina, two staff from the restaurant on hand to attend to our every need. It was quite fun watching them negotiate getting onto and off our Azimut, as the tiny pontoon was in an awkward situation for boarding, but they both managed with aplomb and we had a sensational evening. Our two days in pole position passed all too quickly, doing the usual tourist things which mainly involved just strolling around the streets of the city. There can be few places so vibrant and colourful as Venice, and it is lovely to consider the history of the place and to realise that although the merchandise and fashions may have changed over the years, the ambiance and activity has remained the same here throughout several centuries. The Grand Canal was as busy as a motorway but far more entertaining to watch and St Mark's Square proved as awesome as ever, particularly when viewed from the lofty heights of the Campanile. On our final night in Italy, we dined at the Cip's Club, a decking terrace overlooking the Guidecca Canal and directly opposite St Mark's Square - wonderful - and then strolled along the edge of lagoon after our sumptuous dinner. Before leaving Venice we had one more task to perform: get some photographs of Zaffina in this auspicious location. Easier said than done! I cast off our ropes and whilst Frank held her in place, jumped off the boat and ran round to the front of the hotel, where I hopped on their taxi and went out into the lagoon. Zaffina was waiting in front of San Georgio and as we approached, Frank brought her over in front and then alongside us, so I could snap merrily away and also take some video footage. The boatman was a little disconcerted when I told him that I wanted to jump from his boat back to ours, but once we were out of the main stream of the lagoon he brought her close enough for me to make the transition (a rather inelegant belly flop manoeuvre over the side, I'm afraid) and then we were on our way, retracing our footsteps back towards the Adriatic in the knowledge that we had just had a boating experience we would never forget. Umag was a disappointment. Being back in Croatia was no hardship but the rudeness of the policeman on duty when Frank went to check in was beyond anything we had experienced in this lovely country and after being given the third degree, there seemed no point in sticking around and instead we put back to sea straight away and found another anchorage for the afternoon. The night was spent in Novigrad, a pretty, colourful little town with an excellent new marina - and exceptionally friendly staff! One of the ports we really wanted to visit was Rovinj, a town not dissimilar to Korcula which was one of our favourites last summer. When we approached in the early evening, the wind was starting to rise and there was a queue of water traffic heading for the marina. The Marinero indicated that we could go on the outside quay, but seeing the amount of movement there, we declined, asking instead if there was anything inside. There wasn't, so we went over to try the town quay, but that too was full so we turned back to the marina, only to be told that there was now nothing available for us, inside or out. As there were still a bunch of spaces, that seemed unlikely, but unable to argue, we instead went to pick up a buoy. The fates were against us; the buoy had such a narrow ring on the top that the knot connecting our rope to our buoy catcher got entirely jammed, and it wasn't until the buoy catcher snapped that the tension was released and we were able to get our rope back - but not tied onto the buoy. At that point we gave up, went a couple of miles south and found a perfect anchorage where there was next to no wind and where, in the end, we had a lovely, peaceful night on the hook! Rovinj was too good to bypass altogether, so in the morning we returned to the scene of our altercations and this time managed to get a rope round the buoy before taking the dinghy into town. It was worth the hassle! Rovinj is such a pretty place and we were glad that we had made the effort to get back there for the morning. The afternoon saw us heading down the Istrian coast and across to Cres, one of the larger islands but with very little habitation on it as it's pretty barren. We anchored in a gorgeous cove and swam to the pebbly beach but, having decided in the early evening that we would stay for the night, we had so many problems in trying to get a line to shore that we finally gave up and went into the marina, refuelling en route. I think it was really all a ploy so Frank could get to watch the England game, but it really wasn't worth the effort, especially as we were the only English supporters among a restaurant full of Italian fans! If only someone else had taken those penalties! And then yesterday morning we left Cres and had about half an hour on a glass calm sea before we turned around the northern point of the island and hit a blast coming up the west coast of Krk from the Velabit Channel - the windiest part of Croatia (and possibly Europe!) Fortunately we only had about half an hour of blow before the sea miraculously turned back to glass before we reached Rab and found another glorious, glorious anchorage for the afternoon. Another blow was due through last night so we moved into Rab Town where we managed to secure a berth on the quayside, between the fishing boats and water taxis. Last night turned out to be tournament night - Rab vs San Marino in a crossbow firing competition! It was quite a spectacle, with all the competitors plus half of the town processing in medieval costume before the games, which themselves made fascinating viewing with the crossbows proving incredibly accurate. We eventually wandered off for dinner at a delightful restaurant in a courtyard adjacent to our mooring, to round off a pretty perfect boating day. Oh, and it rained in the middle of the night, but it was sunny again when we woke up!

Sunday 17th June 2012

Could somebody please tell me where the last week has gone? Our night at Skraddin was followed by a perfect night at anchor in the river; there's something special about being in an anchorage where you can't see any buildings, power lines or other signs of man's intervention with nature. An unseen cuckoo sang out as dusk fell and the water calmed to absolute still, whilst we sat in the cockpit eating our dinner and savouring a glass or two of rich red Croatian wine. An early start the following morning took us into Sibenic, where various jobs were due to be done on Zaffina. The forecast was for Monday to be ok which it was and Tuesday to be fairly awful, so rather than stay on board, we got a taxi 270km down to Dubrovnik and collected the car, which we left there a month ago. Although it was windy, the weather wasn't bad at all (until later in the day), to the extent that the last 50 or so km in a taxi without air conditioning was pretty vile! It was a different story on the way back, when we put the roof down for most of the journey and had a fantastic drive back up towards Split. Sadly Frank got clocked doing 95kph in a 50kph zone...but a very kindly police officer let him off with a minimal fine and a warning not to exceed the speed limit in built up areas again (and an inference that they didn't really care elsewhere!). The heavens opened just before we got back to Sibenic and the last few miles were through a torrential downpour, but we were happy to be back on board and glad that we now had the car close at hand. Once we had sorted a garage on Wednesday morning, we set off back to sea. A quick stop to refuel delayed us a bit and then the weather was so lovely that we decided to stop at the entrance to the Krka River and drop the anchor for a while. The "while" turned into an overnight, but again it was a gorgeous situation and as the sun went down the wind dropped away completely, making it another memorable evening for us. We've been wanting to explore the Kornatti Islands since we hit this corner of Croatia, having read and heard a lot about them. The general consensus is that you either love them or hate them, and so at about 8 o clock on Thursday morning we pulled up the anchor and set off over a perfectly calm sea, with just a few early yachts and a local ferry for company. Our course was leisurely, weaving around a couple of islands further south until we entered the Kornatti National Park. The islands are generally quite stark, with an unusual beauty. Some of them have a reasonable amount of greenery covering them, many are almost barren, and others have splodges of foliage and look as if they've been spattered with green paint. On some of the larger islands within the group, trees and houses cluster together at the water's edge, providing green oases within an otherwise harsh landscape. Some of the ports looked delightful and we earmarked a few to revisit in the future. We kept our speed down and weaved between the islands, eventually choosing a spot in which to drop the anchor and while away the afternoon. While we were there, the park rangers came and charged us for being in the park - an uncomfortable 750kn (about £80) which we thought was pretty steep for one night. They were obviously embarrassed but it, and clearly felt the charge was excessive as they purposely dated the ticket for the following day so that we could stay two nights for the price of one if we so wished! We spent the evening in an almost deserted marina - clearly other boaters are also finding it an expensive place to visit! After breakfast the next day, we continued our journey through the Kornatti, until we reached the north end of the island group, where again we found a place to drop the hook. The sea is getting noticeably warmer (I read somewhere recently that it's up to 22 degrees now, but that obviously varies around the coast) and with the weather getting warmer and warmer, we're diving in more often just to cool down. We debated whether to stay at anchor through the evening, but as we wanted internet access, opted instead to head to a nearby port, where there was another small marina. However, once we got there, it seemed daft to pay for a marina when we could instead tie up at one of the nearby restaurants and enjoy the facilities for free provided we ate at their premises. What a choice we made! Festa turned out to be one of the best fish restaurants in Croatia, and we had an absolutely fabulous (if expensive) meal. We will return! And that brings us to yesterday, when we made the longest trip so far this year, leaving southern Croatia behind, and travelling 80 miles or so to Istria in the north. It was a great trip. The sea conditions were pretty perfect, at least for the first 4 hours and the last hour wasn't bad, albeit a bit bumpier, and the route, winding around islands and through channels, was fascinating. When eventually we got to Istria, we decided to go into an an inlet for the afternoon before moving on into port, but enjoyed it so much that we stayed for the night - a good decision, as there was barely a breathe of wind and the scene when we woke this morning was sheer boating perfection! Just after breakfast, I noticed a visitor. A pigeon was perched on one of Zaffina's side rails...and a few minutes later, it flew through the window into the saloon! After a while, I managed to shoo him out of the door, but he absolutely refused to leave the boat and in the end, we had to close the cockpit door to prevent him going back inside! Our new friend spent the entire day with us, and even when I picked him up and threw him into the air, he simply flew around in a circle, landed back on the flybridge and then hopped down the steps back into the cockpit! Pigeon eventually departed late this afternoon, after Frank had ushered him onto the diving platform, shortly before we too departed and made for the same marina we avoided yesterday. And apart from picking up a lazy line around the prop (not a good thing) on the way into the berth, things are going pretty darn well. Long may it continue!

SATURDAY 9TH JUNE 2012

Cruising north from Hvar to Skradin was an interesting experience. Last summer we spent the entire season between Dubrovnik and Hvar, where there are quite a few islands, but nothing like the number further north, and on this trip really we started to get an idea of quite how many there are around here. Apparently, Croatia has approximately 1,100 island scattered along the coast and they range from tiny little blobs, not much more than rocks really, to large islands featuring a number of towns, villages and ports. We kept the pace down for most of the journey as the sea conditions were lovely, although Frank couldn’t resist a quick blast up to 30 knots just for the sheer pleasure of flying across the water. However, fuel consumption at 30 knots is a completely different animal to fuel consumption at 10 knots and a quick glance at the read-out persuaded him to drop our speed back down fairly quickly! Skradin is situated several miles up the Krck River, the entrance to which is guarded (or was, in times gone by) by a fort situated right at the river mouth. The trip up river was gorgeous and varied, and once we were out of the breeze of the open sea, the temperature rose dramatically, especially when we passed between towering rocky canyons where no wind could penetrate– it must be absolutely scorching there in the heat of the summer. After the canyons, the river widened out into a fjord-like area with a number of inlets and anchorages, before narrowing again and winding between more cliffs to our destination. Turning the last corner and suddenly seeing Skradin for the first time was one of those special boating moments. It is a pretty little town with a church tower, topped with an onion shaped dome, rising above the red roofed houses along the waterfront. A number of gulets were tied up along the quayside, and we were shown into a berth in the marina opposite, a great place to watch the comings and goings along the quay. A couple of swans drifted past Zaffina, and then a couple more, all searching for a tasty morsel and obviously aware that the visitors here are a good source of food! The swans will actually stretch up from the water and take bread from your hands if you lean over the side of the boat with an offering – but you have to be careful because they get a bit upset when supplies have gone and are likely to try to bite your hand instead – or your feet if you’re feeding them from the pontoon! A couple of the pairs of swans had young with them, fluffy cygnets swimming between their parents and on one occasion, when the swim had obviously got too much for one of the youngsters, we saw a baby perched on the back of an adult swan, tucked safely between the soft white wings and enjoying a free ride! The reason for coming to Skradin was to see the waterfalls, so after an night in the marina, we hopped on a tour boat and ventured up river. You aren’t allowed to take your own boat any further than the marina, but the tour boats depart every hour and the service is free, although you do have to pay to get into the national park that features the falls. And it was worth every penny! The waterfalls were just fabulous, and although we thought we’d seen everything within minutes of arriving, after a little walking we realised that they’re actually very extensive, with tiers and tiers of falls going back up the river like an elaborate, watery wedding cake. We took the boardwalk path around the park and it was absolutely delightful – beautiful butterflies and dragonflies everywhere, the air full of birdsong and the croaking of frogs and wild flowers along the pathway. The frogs were fascinating – they were everywhere, but so well camouflaged that you had to search diligently before you could even spot one, and then you’d realise it wasn’t just one but three of four nestled up together. And boy could they make a racket! Our guests selected a restaurant for the evening where we had a great meal sitting on an upstairs terrace and sampling a fair amount of the local Bibich wine, which the waiter proudly informed us was grown just two miles away. He also told us about the hard winter they'd had and we think (but we're not entirely sure) that he said that wolves came down from the mountains and attacked some children. Sadly Frank didn't hear this exchange properly and when the waiter had finished his sorry tale, he smiled broadly and said something along the lines of "well, that's nice"!! From Skradin we again turned to the north, meandering between dozens of islands until we reached a totally natural and beautifully sheltered anchorage at Dogi Otok or long island. Within minutes of dropping the hook in splendid isolation, a small boat motored up to us and demanded payment as we were anchored within the national park! They charge per adult on board and we paid up happily as it was well worth the donation to keep the park maintained in its natural state. With the weather still unsettled and another blast due in a few days, we only spent one night at Dogi Otok before turning back towards the south. A swim to the shore after lunch on board the following day resulted in Charles treading on a sea urchin, so we put into the quaintly named Marina Bettina for the night so he could have the spines removed at the local hospital, and then set off again the next morning. As we approached our destination, the very well sheltered Marina Frappa, Charles was driving the boat whilst I was keeping a beady eye on him. Frank had gone below when we noticed a small yacht with two people on board which was obviously in difficulty. They waved us down, and I brought Zaffina around whilst Charles went to drag Frank back onto the flybridge to negotiate us alongside, so we could throw a rope to the floundering yacht. Surprisingly, we managed this feat without too much difficulty and then towed the yacht a couple of miles back to the shore from where it had been blown out to sea. We awarded ourselves a Blue Peter Badge for Lifesaving and continued to Marina Frappa. As predicted, the wind came up and up, and we were extremely glad to be in such a sheltered berth. The marina was modern and very well appointed, complete with hotel, night club and swimming pool. Sadly, although it was by now the beginning of June, none of the above were open for the season yet! We did find a very good restaurant though, and ordered the local speciality of veal under the bell which we had hoped to enjoy sitting under the stars. Until it bucketed down with rain! Thunder and lightning provided the music and light show for the evening, and by the time we were ready to walk back to the marina, the rain was coming down so hard that we had to ask the proprietor for a lift back. He willingly obliged but only had room for 4 in his car, so Tim and Charles walked back shaded by our two flimsy umbrellas and performing an impromptu "Singing in the Rain" en route. With time running out for our guests, we had to start heading back towards the mainland, but first detoured around the island of Solta, popping into a delightful marina called Maslinica. It was so delightful that after a afternoon at anchor off Brac, we returned there for the night. When Charles and Liz went out for a stroll they discovered that the castle overlooking the marina was in fact a fabulous boutique hotel with just six bedrooms - the owner had originally converted it for his own use before deciding to open it as a small hotel - plus a terrace overlooking the water and swimming pool in the courtyard. Beautiful! Maslinica is probably one of the most beautiful places we've seen since we set off from the UK 3 years ago, and we'll certainly be going back there. Rather than returning to Split, we opted to go to Trogir for the last night with Tim and Annabel and Charles and Liz, and we were lucky enough to secure a berth on the waterfront. The trip across from Solta was lovely, with a leisurely few hours at anchor en route, and Trogir is a beautiful old town with tiny winding alleys and small squares. It also has a fabulous green market just outside the town walls, perfect for anyone wanting to stock up on board! At this time of year, the fruit, flowers and veg are just fabulous, rich, ripe and plentiful and the market stalls are each a work of art, with produce piled high and arrayed in all the colours of the rainbow. Our last supper together was in one of the small squares within the old town, a restaurant that had been recommended by the people at the hotel at Maslinica, and we had a good meal accompanied by copious amounts of very good red wine. Not for the first time, we were the last people to leave the restaurant, and as we were about to wend our way, we noticed a guy who looked a lot like Pavarotti (although more alive...) and naturally, we demanded that he should sing to us! However, when he obliged by belting out La Donna e Mobile, we were completely flabbergasted. Not only did he look like Pavarotti, he also sang like the great tenor. In fact, he turned out to be South Africa's most celebrated opera singer, Johan Botha and we were privileged to have an impromptu private performance! Sometimes life is stranger than fiction. Our guests departed in the morning, and even that was an adventure! The taxi failed to arrive and when Frank called the driver, he was told that he couldn't, after all, do the pick up! Frank ran in one direction, Tim in another. Tim secured a taxi and our four guests piled in as I ran off to try to find where Frank had gone. Our goodbyes consisted of a quick wave at a departing taxi! After a blissfully still night at anchor near the Fort at the mouth of Krck River, we went into Marina Mandolina for some work on the dinghy yesterday and then with yet another blow due, we came back up river to Skradin last night and here we are, with the swans swimming around Zaffina again, and tapping on the side of the boat when they don't get fed much to Frank's annoyance!