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!