Monthly Archives: May 2024

A night to remember

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“Watch out!” Came the call from the skipper, but it was too late. Seconds later a wave launched over my head and I was completely soaked..

Our night out in Dubrovnik hadn’t gone completely to plan. The idea was to enjoy a balmy evening at a cafe soaking up the atmosphere of the beautiful walled city. We’d dropped anchor in the bay outside and as we lowered the tender into the water the clouds were gathering – there was a possibility of a shower, we thought. As the dinghy set off there was an odd sound from the outboard engine and a few minutes later it stuttered and stopped. The waves were picking up and the catamaran was beginning to disappear from view. I glanced down at the bottom of the boat where two oars lay side by side… it could be a long row back.

There were sighs of relief as the skipper found the fuel connection issue a few minutes later, and we continued our evening expedition into the little harbour.

Dubrovnik has changed a bit since I was last there, 15 plus years ago. The cafes and restaurants had smartened up and everything looked shiny and more sleek than I recalled. But in essence the city is still stunning with its pale smooth cobbled streets and narrow passageways lined with cafes and lights leading up to the walls. If you’re a ‘Game of Thrones’ fan it also feels rather like a film set!

Soaking up Saturday night fun in the busy streets we eventually stopped for a drink at a cafe with a jazz band. The senior saxophonist also provided the vocals – picking out his audience with his laughing eyes and making us clap and smile as he swayed to the music in his jaunty Panama hat.

We’d hardly finished our drinks when the rain began and the band brought their set to an abrupt finish. As it was only a short lived shower we wandered through the back streets weaving our way slowly back to the port, not realising it was almost midnight.

In the harbour we suddenly saw how much the wind had picked up, with white horses rushing in from the bay. Having four of us in the tender turned out to be a good thing as the boat sat a bit lower and we were grateful for our 25 horse power engine, which I was hoping wouldn’t misbehave.

Outside in the bay the waves began to slam against the front of the boat and we all stared hard trying to spot the welcoming light from the top of the yacht’s mast. It was nowhere to be seen – just the ominous black shape of the island it was anchored beside.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea heading into town so late!

The boat was being buffeted by the waves, and occasionally one hit us at the wrong angle and we rocked perilously. It was an inky black night and my fingers gripped tightly round the edge of the dinghy where I was balanced. I was really hoping the boat’s anchor had held and the yacht was still where we’d left her. There was a hush onboard as we were probably all thinking the same thing.

Suddenly we spotted a lone anchor light in the distance and moments later we were drenched by a particularly large wave that broke across us. At least the water was warm – we were laughing, but we were all aware that many more waves like that could capsize the dinghy and at night that would be serious.

As we eased in line with the back of the yacht, we gained a little protection. But with the boat tipping and rolling in the waves, securing the tender and stepping off was not going to be easy – we weren’t quite home and dry yet!

But steady hands and strong arms ensured we did all make it back on board in one piece, although we were completely drenched!

It had been a night to remember and one of the most “white knuckle tender rides” I’ve ever had.

Developing patience in Montenegro

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After sailing 183 miles non stop over 24 hours the last thing you want is to get stuck in customs.

We pulled alongside the customs jetty at the little port of Budva in Montenegro, just after lunchtime. We were all a little weary and ready to find a peaceful anchorage, before catching up on sleep. But nothing is simple when crossing borders it seems and this time, not because of Brexit!

Our skipper had carefully lowered the Greek flag and raised the Montenegrin one, along with the yellow flag, that tells them we are asking a question.. “May we enter Montenegro please?”

We thought the paper work might take a little while and the skipper disappeared with our passports and a serious folder of documents… this was the beginning of a very long wait. An hour later there was a problem – we hadn’t had our passports stamped out in Greece… and Montenegro is not in the EU!

The friendly harbour master and customs police were trying to help, but the policeman was agitated that we were waiting a long time on his quay – something about ‘Big Brother’ watching him and boats not being allowed to stay too long. The next issue was that a machine wasn’t working in the customs office so the skipper must walk half a mile to the Post Office to pay and printed off the sailing vignette (permit). Two of us used this as an opportunity to nip into the old walled town and find a local SIM card to get us connected.

Montenegro was a country none of us had visited before and I was intrigued to know more of its history. The little port was busy with colourful water taxis arriving from the beaches with visitors wanting to see the ancient walled town, which was a maze of cool narrow cobbled streets.

When we got back to the boat there was still no sign of the skipper but eventually he returned… but wait for it… someone at the Post Office had filled in one of numbers wrong – the vital paperwork was invalid. He must head back to the Post Office and rejoin the growing queue again! This time he was so long we were getting hungry. We feared he’d been kidnapped or just got disillusioned and gone to find a whisky! Just before we sent for a search party, he appeared.

The sun had set and dusk was approaching by the time we were eventually given permission to leave and could officially find an anchorage. After one aborted attempt, it was dark by the time we dropped anchor between a rocky outcrop and the beach. We fell asleep with twinkling lights from the shore framed by the cabin windows.

Could anything else possibly go wrong?

We were wowed by Montenegro’s famous Bay of Kotor a fjord-like sight in the middle of the Mediterranean. As we sailed up towards the ancient town of Kotor, we spotted what looked like a mini wall of China zigzagging up the mountain side above the port and offering 365 degree protection from attackers. It felt like something from a fantasy film. We enjoyed a few hours meandering through this historic town with its Venetian and Turkish roots offering a new delight at every corner. Its smooth cobbles, tiny passageways and shuttered windows with ironwork balconies, hung with washing, made us feel we had almost arrived in Italy.

The next day we left Kotor to the hundreds of cruise liner guests who arrived in front of us first thing in the morning. The two huge ships almost dwarfed by the surrounding mountains.

As we headed along the bay an issue with our rudders needed sorting, so we hovered as we tried to fix it. But in the process, suddenly we lost our steering altogether…In addition to knots and winds and tides and sails, sailing seems to require a good knowledge of engineering and electronics, which are both a mystery to me!

As the boat bobbed in the middle of the bay, I wondered how we’d stay off the rocks we were slowly drifting towards if we couldn’t fix the problem. I was informed by a reliable source, that with two engines we’d still be able to steer because “it’s just like a tank.” For anyone whose driven one of those…

With some calm and logical thinking, a bit of trial and error, the hydraulics steering problem was eventually solved and we could steer the boat again. I felt very relieved as we motored out of the entrance and turned right towards Croatia…hopefully that was the end of dramas, for today at least!

Sailing into the night… after escaping the parade

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Last night I watched the sun setting across Corfu and this morning saw the first wisps of grey night cloud being ushered out by the dawn. It’s been a long night sail heading up the coast of Albania.. but at least we’re sailing.

After waiting almost a week to get on board, there were a few more delays to endure, as we bobbed on the water in sight of the boatyard, while engineers fixed bits and pieces and checked an engine issue.

We all breathed a sigh of relief when we set sail and an anchorage on the island of Paxos was not a disappointment. Swimming was a must. And the crystal clear water was a refreshing temperature!

Another engine issue and the need for some medical advice for one of us, took us to a little marina tucked below the walls of the fortress at Corfu town. Our boat had a great view of the marine traffic in and out of the port and all the antics of boats attempting to slide into moorings. Our one night stay turned into two, but by now we’d become accustomed to delays…

The route up to the town took us through a tunnel in the fortress wall and through the ancient cobbled routes to the moat and gatehouse. There was just one route in and out, and this became a bit of an issue the next day when the carnival arrived in town.

Two of us had headed out into the town and been told by the woman at the gatehouse it would be closed from 13.30… we were a bit bemused, but we made sure we headed back by 12.30. The streets were packed and the road we needed to cross was lined with police and roped off. We could hear the sound of a marching band and flashes of uniformed red and gold jackets passing by – it seemed the parade had already started. Squeezing through the throng lining the road, I ducked under the rope and was glared at by a policeman.

“We need to cross the road,” I said.

“Get behind the rope,” he said sternly.

“But we have to get to our boat,” I said. He was not amused.

“Behind the rope!” He insisted, and I imagined him reaching for his gun.

I ducked back under and pushed through the crowd and back to the path behind, but now my crew-mate was nowhere to be seen. I tried calling and sending a message – no answer! What else could go wrong? Suddenly, to my relief, she appeared and we decided to try to cross the road further up.. We had no idea how long the marching bands and colourfully dressed paraders would continue. Finding a way to the edge of the road which wasn’t roped off, we spotted a gap in the parade and with no police nearby we ran across to the other side, fearing a shout from a policeman at any moment! Now we just had to get through the gate into the fortress. Two smartly dressed men standing in front of the gate told us the castle was closed.

“But we have to get to our boat,” we pleaded. They just shrugged. Through the bars of the closed gates two or three people were watching the parade from the other side and taking pictures.

“They told us one o’clock I said and it’s only 12.30!” Suddenly the woman who had let us out spotted us and the gate opened an inch.. she nodded and let us in. The parade must have started earlier than she’d expected. We crossed the moat, relieved to be reunited with our boat, which was waiting patiently as usual!

Our engine finally fixed, we decided to make up for lost time by sailing all the way to Montenegro in one hop – a 23 hour journey if we stayed on course.

Night sails can be wonderful and peaceful and we settled into our midnight watch in the light of the moon. But it wasn’t long before clouds appeared and an electric storm flickered in the distance.

The wind picked up, switched direction and suddenly it was raining and we needed to drop our sail! It’s amazing how quickly things can change on a boat from complete serenity to frantic activity. The next few hours we stared at lights from yachts, fishing boats and cruise ships, working out their direction and taking care to avoid them, while keeping ourselves on course. In between we made tea and hunted out cookies and crisps – it turns out night watches make you hungry! And there’s never a dull moment, even with an auto pilot.

As dawn broke the other watch woke and I fell into bed. We were still some hours from our destination before the ragged mountains of Albania, would give way to the tree-lined bays of Montenegro. Thankfully, I had no idea how much our patience would be tested again later that day…

Waiting for adventure

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It turns out sailing a catamaran is all about waiting..

Two weeks ago we flew out to Greece to join another couple on their yacht to sail with them on a voyage to Venice. We were excited about the trip and all the new places we’d visit and very much looking forward to sailing a catamaran for the first time. We knew it would be very different from a monohull.

Unfortunately things haven’t gone quite to plan and the trip has turned into a bit of a saga. But as one of my colleagues told me – “There’s always a story!”

We planned to spend a few days exploring the island of Lefkas before setting sail. After a couple of days soaking up some sunshine, in between rain showers, we took a break from gazing at the azure blue sea, and headed inland to find a waterfall. The dry river bed en route didn’t look promising, but as we climbed we began to hear the sound of water and before long a tumbling stream appeared, visible at point between the arching trees and ferns and bushes sprouting from the banks and rocky outcrops. The path wound up beneath a steep ravine and huge boulders.

At the end of the path was a beautiful green pool, where water was streaming down a moss lined cliff. It wasn’t much of a waterfall, but it was fresh and tranquil and the sound was calming. I couldn’t resist a dip, so quickly slid into the water, staring around for ducks. I could hear them quacking, but couldn’t I spot them. It was then I spied two bright green things on the rocks beside me. Frogs basking in the sun and making a very loud sound just like ducks!

On returning from the frog pool we had some bad news as we heard the new propeller for the catamaran was stuck in customs at Athens airport.

However, the extra night on the island gave us the pleasure of meeting a most joyful Greek host – Costas – “call me Gas” – who served us coffee and homemade cake on arrival and made us feel welcome in his home on the cliffs with spectacular sea views. Breakfast was a lavish spread laid out in his rustic kitchen with everything from strawberries to croissants and cheese!

Further delays with customs meant we had to extend our road trip for a few days up the coast of Greece while we waited for the propeller to arrive. But we enjoyed visiting Parga, a pretty Italianesque coastal town.

The down or the upside of the delays, depending on your perspective, was that there was plenty of time to meander in the local shops and buy nice things! I managed to add a few more kilos to my rather full bag! Our BnB host in Parga was Kara (which she told us means ‘joy’ in Greek) and she lived up to her name with her enthusiasm for life and her warm welcome.

She was busy whitewashing a tree trunk when arrived, her clothes paint splattered and a smile spreading across her face. After throwing open the shutters to our room with its panoramic sea view, she sprang onto her motorbike and whizzed off.

The next day as clouds hovered we headed inland to explore a renowned river called the “Springs of Acheron”. Sounding like something out of a Tolkien novel, it lived up to its name. And although we weren’t venturing on the high seas we did find ourselves wading and sometimes swimming through the clear icy waters rushing through a narrow canyon.

An hour upstream we began to lose the feeling in our hands and toes and had to turn back. The river of Acheron features in Greek mythology as the gate to Hades… Despite the sunshine when we got back to the car we turned up the heaters and put on everything we had to warm up. Those icy waters would have put out the fires of hell!

When we arrived back at the boatyard the beautiful catamaran was at last ready for launch and we held our breath as she was lifted and then very slowly lowered into the water – all 19 tons of her!

So the adventure could begin.. after a bit more waiting as it turned out!