The main objective of the day was really to get to Split. However, the skipper's inate greed got in the way. On our walk ashore the previous evening, we had spied the Dalmacijavino depot referred to in the pilot. So we set off after breakfast, to lay in some supplies. We tied the dinghy up outside, only to find that they do not supply containers. Back on Fuga, we emptied our 5 litre spring water container, and dug two more out of the lazarette. On our return, unfortunately the red wine had run out, and the white was on tasting passable, but only just, so we limited ourselves to 5 litres for 40 Kuna. The skipper's next economical folly was to set off for Kastel Sucurac, where the pilot indicated there was an INA-Plin depot. En route we passed by the fairly new marina near Kastel Gomilica, which we assume was where Wabo is berthed. We anchored in the little fishing harbour at U. Barkanj, just east of the village of Kastel Sucurac itself, and once more set off with the dinghy, complete with granny trolley loaded with two gas bottles. There was some holders similar to the ones at Bibinje to the west, between the marina and our anchorage, so we tried that direction. Wrong! On making enquiries from a fast food shop, we were directed along the road back eastwards, to the Cement Works, well east of our berth. We eventually made it, hot and tired from over a mile of uneven walking alongside the road. There were few concessions to pedestrians and none when we got outside the village. We were rewarded by two bottles refilled for 48 Kuna, or under £5 GBP, which proves how we are ripped off in the UK. It cost us nearly as much for the ice cream, doughnuts, and water required to replenish ourselves from the walk. Mo waited opposite Fuga with the gas bottles, having walked down through the hospital grounds, while I retrieved the dinghy. We were a bit hot and tired by the time we finally set off for Split! Mo thought we would need two nights in the marina to make up for the saving on gas!
When we got to Split, we had a look at the possibility of anchoring off the old fishing harbour as Wabo had suggested. There was a large super-motor-yacht anchored between the fuel berth and the marina, and we thought of joining them. We had planned to pick up water at Split, and there was a bit of a sea coming into the harbour, so instead we stuck to Plan A and entered the ACI marina.
Once we were settled, we piled into the dinghy and set off across the harbour where we found some rings on the quay opposite Diocletian's palace. It was all very smart, and there were people promenading and sitting around. There was just sufficient light for us to be able to take some photographs during a quick walk around the old town area, which is contained within the palace walls. It was fascinating, and filled with little 'touristy' shops, galleries, bars, sitting out places, narrow little alleys, and broad squares, not to mention the cathedral. On our second or third circuit, we began to get hungry, and set off back to find a Pizza Grill place that we had spotted just inside the north gate. Mo enjoyed a rare but delicious steak and chips, I had a salad and top of the range pizza, and it was all washed down by a litre of wine, the damage being only 230 Kuna!
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| Split harbour waterfront | A great place to sit, walk, or be seen.. | |
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| The square in Diocletian's Palace | ||
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| The cathedral and tower | The busy market full of local produce |
After breakfast, we set off with haversacks and camera for the old town, this time leaving the dinghy behind. It is quite a hike around the marinas and harbour by road, and it was only when we were well on our way that Mo mentioned that there is a water taxi service from the marina! After a quick look around the Palace area again in daylight, we went to the market immediately to the east. It was heaving with people, and mostly small stalls operated by people with just a limited selection of probably home grown vegetables or fruit on each stall. So we visited half a dozen or so, picking up whatever we had spied, and somehow managing to negotiate what we wanted. We walked back laden, through the old town again, as it was nice and cool. We happened upon the fish market, which operates just outside the walls on the west side, but decided not to purchase as we have quite a lot of meat to get through.
Once back at the marina, we paid the bill, visited the shop for some bread, and finished off the washing. I managed to get a quick update of the web site ready, then availed myself of the marina wifi to upload it, and to get e-mails back. We were supposed to leave our berth by 2 pm, but it was nearer 3 pm before we set off. We settled on U. Lucice, on the southern side of Brac, for the night, and dropped anchor around 6 pm, having sailed about half of the 13nm before the wind dropped away. We laid a kedge out to keep us from swinging around too much in the fairly confined space.
We awoke after a very peaceful night in the lovely surroundings. I managed to get in for a swim, the temperature now having fallen to around 20C. Mo limited herself literally to a toe in the water, and claimed to have washed her feet! We motored for an hour or so, until the wind appeared to perk up a bit from the NW, when we could just about fetch our course around Vodnjac M, the last of the chain of islands that lies south and west of Otok Hvar. The remainder of the sail to Vis was just a little free, and we made good speed despite the light winds, and carried our sail right into the harbour. We anchored as the pilot suggests in U. Stonca, the bay north of the church on the prominet Pol Prilovo, opposite Vis town quay. At first our surroundings, dominated by broken down buildings, appeared a bit drab, but proceedings livened up when another yacht anchored behind us, and a working boat came in to the quay almost alongside us. I had promised the engine that I would give it its long overdue oil change. As usual the job was horrendous, although the engine was only nicely warm. The pump once more exploded, scattering oil, and yet again I failed to remember to put a catcher tray under the oil filter as I unscrewed it, so a large quantity of kitchen roll was used up. We have long promised ourselves one of those sophisticated pumps which we never seem to find when we remember to look. Mo was steadfast in assisting me, and we both emerged from the process covered in oil, so needed a shower before we could go out. It was almost dark, therefore, when we got into the dinghy to go ashore.
Venturing up a side street we were befriended by a nice dog, and this drew our attention to the proceedings: wine making was in progress! I mentioned this, and one of the chaps called out in good English offering to show us. There was a large vessel with a lid on it, containing fomenting grapes, and the building was full of stainless storage vessels. He opened a bottle for us and gave us a tumbler full of wine to try, apologising for the glass. It was very pleasant, and left us with a warm glow. He explained they only sell the wine after 4 years. It is grown on the southern slopes of the island in sandy soil, in which there are porous rocky boulders that retain the moisture. Vis is famous for its good quality wines. He offered to sell us some, but we promised to return in the morning, although at 60 Kuna for a bottle it was way above our price range. We walked along the front afterwards. The quay was full of sailing boats, probably 20 or 30, and a couple of the boats were well laden as a party was in full swing. We were glad then not to be on the quay for the night. A boat was anchored in the bay opposite, near the fuelling berth, where our pilot says there is no anchoring, although it is shown as an anchorage on the chart. We were tempted to have a meal ashore, but as it was still quite early resolved instead to go back and finish preparing the shepherd's pie that we had started making the evening before. Mo is slowly trying to initiate me into the mysteries of cooking.
We got up reasonably promptly and had breakfast, before going ashore. We re-visited the winery, and they sealed and labelled a couple of bottles for us. I looked in the vat again, and the chap took the lid off and sniffed it. 'Good' he said. Then he proceeded to plunge his arms into the mash up to his elbows, to give it a good stir around, similar to when Mo does the washing in a bucket. He then rinsed off his arms before continuing with the final phase of the bottling process. I wished I had had the nerve to take a video, but it was a bit dark in there. We picked up some groceries, visited the bakery, and made our way back to the dinghy. Opposite was another wine outlet, and they had 'bulk' supplies where you supply your own bottle, and as we had come prepared, we left with two water bottles, one full of 5 litres of red wine and another litre bottle of white. We are still consuming the white bought in Kastel Stari. Having thus achieved our objective, we returned to Fuga, and made ready for a longer passage of 35 nm to the island of Lastovo.
We made for a harbour on the north coast, at Zaklopatika, protected by an island straddling the entrance. I had intended to enter by the western entrance which seemed ok on the chart, but looked far too narrow in practice. Later I read the pilot which claimed only one metre in through that passage, so it was just as well that I aborted, and went in by the eastern entrance. The chart shows an anchorage, but we were not convinced. Someone was on the quay by one of the restaurants, indicating that we should moor there. We had the rest of the shepherd's pie to eat, and had only really wanted to go there in order to visit the village of Lastovo, up the hill. A look at the chart showed two possible anchorages to the west, so we left and entered the a bay on spec. As we approached the head of the bay, a small beach with a number of dwellings opened up, and we were able to anchor on sand/weed/shingle with room to swing in about 8 metres. I went for a swim, and we enjoyed the shepherd's pie washed down with cheap wine.
We had had a peaceful night, and there was not much sign of a breeze. After breakfast, I tried to sketch one of the dwellings, all of which appeared deserted, and then went for a swim/snorkel and snoop around on shore. Mo was busy with a Suduko puzzle, but finally became distracted by frequent visits from wasps, one of which was enormous. When we did set off, the Rocna produced its usual offering from the sea bed which had firmly adhered to it. We had a following wind of Force 1 or 2, so of no use whatsoever to us, and motored most of the way. We arrived at the delightful anchorage off Polace on the island of Mljet, and anchored close to the shore opposite the town in about 8 metres. We launched the dinghy, and set off for a walk, finding the hut selling tickets for the National Park was open but unattended. Accordingly we set off up the hill with the objective of overseeing the lakes from the top of the hill. Mljet is delightful, and for the most part heavily wooded, so there was little chance of seeing anything! Mo was persuaded eventually to take a path down to the Jazero lakeside, and we then returned by road part of the way, before finding a path over the hill back to Polace. The circular route was 4/5 miles, taken at a cracking pace because of the impending onset of darkness. Once back in Polace, we went to a bar and enjoyed a drink, then when back on board, I went for another swim to wash the sweat off!
We awoke to find a change in the weather, it having drizzled a bit in the night, and was now cloudy. I went ashore briefly for bread and bananas, while Mo made coffee. Soon after I returned we had a visit from a large Police patrol launch, our first 'check' in Croatia during over four months. Soon afterwards, we set off for Dubrovnik. The breeze that I had thought might be useful was in fact coming from Dubrovnik, at only about F2. We tried motor-sailing into it, but eventually gave this up when it died away to practically nothing. Visibility was extremely poor, so that we were unable to really enjoy the magnificent rolling, wooded mountain scenery of Mljet to the south, nor that of the much steeper, flat topped Peljesac peninsular to the north. The Jadrolina ferry Marco Polo came by, and we also encountered an American yacht motoring in the opposite direction. Otherwise, there was little to entertain us, and Mo kept watch while I applied water colour to the sketch I had made of one of the cottages at our anchorage the day before. It's only my second attempt this year, which is a very poor effort and no way to learn or improve. Arriving at the river, we set off upriver to refuel. We were surprised to find Kealoha 8 berthed at the marina. The fuel berth was officially closed, but we were cheerfully served and I was then taken by one of the guys on the back of his scooter to the entrance of the marina to obtain cash to pay for it! Afterwards we tried going up river to where the pilot suggested you might anchor, only to run aground just beyond the travel lift berth. Mo thought withdrawal to deeper water to be a better plan, so we anchored instead a little downstream, opposite the marina and out of the main channel. I sent a text message to David Holliday, who rang up in jovial mood from Marseilles where he had seen England beat Australia 12-10 at rugby, and he subsequently supplied Rebecca's mobile so we could contact K8.
The day dawned drizzling, dark and gloomy with the occasional blast of wind down the valley. The river runs down a deep gorge. We had breakfast, and when we guessed K8 would be awake (the ensign had been unfurled) we went over in the dinghy. They were busy enjoying a cooked breakfast cooked by Nia, and we chatted for a while before returning to Fuga for lunch. It started raining again, so we decided to stay put on board rather than attempt to go into town. Mo read and cooked, while I spent time on the computer (web site) before connecting to the marina wifi to update the web site and attend to weather forecasts and banking. The wind and rain continued to come and go all evening.
It was a lot brighter when we woke up, and the wind had died away. We got ourselves ready to go out, and locked up. We called by Kealoha. Ian was busy briefing the new crew, Kiwis Adrian and Jenny, who had just arrived on board, so we did not stay. We parked the dinghy on the marina between two large motorboats, where we hoped it would not attract attention, and made for the bus stop outside the entrance. A bus (No 1) arrived almost immediately, and for 10 Kuna each deposited us outside the main gate of the old city walls. We decided to walk the walls first of all, as Rebecca and friends had recommended, so paid our 50 Kuna each for the ticket, and started around anti-clockwise. It was quite hard walking, involving lots of steps and slopes, but very lovely. Many of the roofs have been re-tiled, and I overheard one person saying that only two buildings, one of them a small church, had remained intact as a result of the Serbo-Croat war 1991-5. Since then there has been an extensive re-building programme to recover from the damage. Intriguingly, there was still room for the odd bit of small scale cultivation that we have seen everywhere amongst the mainly built up area. A high spot came towards the end of our circuit, when at midday each of the bells in turn started to ring out. By this time we had had enough, and when we came down we went down some back streets in search of somewhere for a drink. We descended on one place, intending only a drink, but the Americans off a cruise ship who were just leaving were enthusiastic about the food they had just had there. We had some traditional local fare, and with a beer and a litre of wine for the two of us it came to just 192 Kuna. You cannot complain! After this we wandered around a bit, then returned to the bus stop and reached the boat at 1600 hrs, just in time to see Kealoha disappearing down the river. We happily collapsed in the cockpit to enjoy the view with cups of tea, until the sun went down behind the hills. It was as I was oiling and packing up the bike that has been occupying the side deck for the last two weeks that I realised that we had swung into the bank and were gently aground. This was easily rectified.
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| The main gate and walls of Dubrovnik | Mo and John, courtesy of a Japanese friend |
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| A view of part of the walls from seaward |
We needed some fresh bread, so I went ashore to buy some and so spend our remaining Kunas. The Konsum at the entrance to the marina was one of the best smaller supermarkets we had encountered in Croatia outside a large city establishment. The fruit was fresh, the deli looked inviting, and there was a butchering counter. I spent up on some bananas, oranges and nectarines, and then realised the loaf of bread might be a bit small. Too bad! We recovered the dinghy and set off down the river to Gruz to clear out of Croatia. There is a customs quay in the 'international' area where you can tie up, but an American yacht was occupying the space when we arrived, with a ferry ahead and a cruise ship behind. When they had gone, I had assumed it would be just a formality by customs, but was first referred across the road to the harbourmaster's office, where I had to complete a new crew list, the same as the one I had, but in triplicate multi-part stationery. Back at the quayside, I saw the police (immigration) and then had to see the customs. It was not a cheerful, friendly, 'come back again soon' exit, but a chore to be endured. No, we had nothing to declare, repeated several times.
Leaving the harbour, I almost disgraced myself. A cruise liner was coming in, and I was busy trying to video the scene behind me, when Fuga decided to veer towards the rocks to starboard. I recovered with a swift turn to port, but what the skipper of the cruise liner or his assembled passengers lining the rail thought I hesitate to imagine. We motored around the headland so that we could see the outside of the Dubrovnik old town walls: but because of their height it was not particularly photogenic when compared with observing from the walls themselves. Having seen what we came for, we then set a course due south, but in the absence of any useful wind, we had to motor. We tried setting the main, but the combination of a rolling motion and a light following wind meant that the sails slatted annoyingly, and in the interest of less wear and tear on the sails and our nerves, we took them down again. It was not until the evening that Mo detected a useable breeze, and we were able to hoist the sails again, Mo wisely suggesting that we stuck to our rule of reefing at night. The wind was still coming up. There was then a period in which we were able to sail fast, without the engine on, although the wind then veered back behind us and it was difficult to sail our course in comfort. In the early hours we encountered something of a traffic jam, with ships going in each direction up and down the Adriatic, and a ferry crossing on a reciprocal course to ourselves, which served to keep me awake for a while, and again the AIS proved its worth. Finally we gave up trying to make the best of the wind, and motored for the last two hours to save time and the generator.
I tried reporting our arrival to the harbour VTS people, because of potential customs issues, and they wanted us to radio the pilots for directions in. We decided that could only attract trouble, so made our own way into the inner harbour. At one point a Guardia Financia launch came by, and we pointed to our quarantine flag: they smiled and waved back. We found a berth on the town quay, close to the harbourmaster's office, and tied up there. The harbourmaster's office was closed, and after several hours no one had taken any notice, so I took the 'Q' flag down, and went off to try to find a TIM mobile shop to get the internet access working again. I paid my money, but on return to the boat found that it was not working, so after several attempted phone calls to the service desk, I took their advice and went back to the shop. However, it then emerged that for some reason lack of identity was now a blockage, and as I had not thought to take any with me, I would have to return in the morning. Back on board, Mo served her curry with mashed potatoes, and feeling exhausted, we hit the sack pretty early.