BEACH BUMS IN CROATIA.
"What on earth does Mum want a dark green double-hoop Gortex bivi bag for? We're really worried about what you two are getting up to these days. Are you sure you've got proper insurance cover?"
Goodness, the boot really is on the other foot now!
INSPIRATIONS AND PLANS.
Sea kayaking symposia are great places to learn about other people's wonderful experiences, either from the more formal slide shows or just by chatting. At Brancaster in October 99, Tim had mentioned he'd paddled off the coast of Croatia that summer. We looked at the atlas when we got home and wow, what a place! Hundreds of islands in the Adriatic Sea fairly close together in three main groups and many reasonably accessible by kayak from the mainland. So Mick requested a guidebook for a 57th birthday present in May and a phone call to Tim definitely made up our minds that this was where we should be heading. The Croatian Tourist Office in London sent a generous amount of literature, and we were able to obtain maps from Stanford's. We've both taken early retirement to enable more travel and with no ties or commitments [other than each other!] six weeks in September and October seemed ideal.
We read that there had been a booming tourist industry of 10 million visitors a year before Croatia declared its independence from the Yugoslavian Federation in 1991. During ensuing conflicts, some 2000 shells struck Dubrovnik between October 1991 and May 1992 with 68% of the Old Town's buildings being damaged. But even at the height of the conflict most of the country remained untouched by the war and since 1995 no fighting has taken place on Croatian soil. Restoration work has gone well, Italian and German tourists in particular are returning and now would definitely be a good time to explore this beautiful country before it becomes crowded.
Proper insurance cover is an important issue. We've ensured we're covered for sea kayaking; many travel insurance companies regard this as a hazardous activity even though it may not be actually listed in the more common exclusions. With the car fully serviced and the Channel ferry booked for August 30th, Mick rang our car insurance company to arrange the International Green Card and encountered a problem. Croatia is split completely in two by a slim strip of Bosnia. Unless you catch a ferry out to the Peljesic Peninsular, you have to drive through about 10 km of Bosnia to reach southern Croatia and the beautiful city of Dubrovnik, which was high on our list to visit. The insurance company would provide cover for Croatia for a fee, but under no circumstances would they extend this to Bosnia. The Croatian Tourist Board told me that Germans, Austrians, Italians and others just drove through Bosnia uninsured. Now I'm a great believer in Sod's Law. If we were to have an accident, this is where it would be. Looking again at the maps it was obvious really. Why drive down a long section of coast and paddle out to individual islands when we could just paddle to Solta from Trogir and canoe-hop all the way down a chain! This would be a distance of roughly 300 km. finishing at Dubrovnik. These most southerly islands seemed well served by ferries giving options for emergency dropouts and an assisted return to the car with the kayaks if the long paddle back was not feasible due to the encroaching autumn [or my exhaustion!] Of the country's 1,185 islands, islets and reefs only 66 are inhabited. There are an extensive number of campsites on the mainland and a few on larger inhabited islands but how would these island sites link together in a paddling schedule? It might be sensible to carry bivi bags as well as the tent in case we needed to camp discreetly as rough camping is not allowed. We foresaw fresh water being a problem. We reckoned on needing 5.5 litres a day between us and felt we should carry a minimum of 2 days supply. A trial pack in our slim-line Pintail and Sirius kayaks on the back lawn was vital! A garage collection of "might come in handy sometime" 2 and 4 pint plastic milk bottles [well chlorinated] fitted in nicely. Inspired by Paul's "One Pot Cookery" session at this year's Jersey Sea Kayaking Symposium, and his persuasion that quantities of onions, garlic, potatoes and other vegetables could be individually squeezed in amongst the dry bags, we would "go fresh" with the addition of canned meat and fish, rice, pasta, porridge and dried milk. Gas cylinders are hard to come by in Croatia so on the Big Trip we would carry what we estimated we needed including petrol for the M.S.R. stove giving a total of 15 days cooking. Spare spray decks were ordered and spare hatch covers ingeniously secured in my Pintail's cockpit under the deck. There was a moment of panic five days before the off when Mick noticed a substantial crack in one of my paddle blades so there was an unscheduled lengthy drive to Southampton to buy a new paddle. Due to potential different routeings through the islands we decided not to cut and laminate our 1:100,000 maps of the area but use them folded in an A3 waterproof map case. Mick had been encouraged to find lines of latitude and longitude shown and obtained comfort to know that our GPS could be used during our expedition.
DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? DO YOU TAKE VISA?
We drove through France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Austria, and Slovenia to reach Croatia. We had used Teletext to check out petrol prices to refuel as cheaply as we could. At the small town where we camped en route in Germany, no one would take Visa. With no Deuch Marks and the cash machine behind locked doors in the closed bank we disappointingly but ravenously ate our emergency can of baked beans instead of our planned meal out. A "Vignette" had to be purchased at the Austrian border and displayed to permit travel on motorways - this was in addition to tolls for the lengthy mountain tunnels. Slovenia only accepted hard cash for all its tolls, but in any currency. The whole journey was reasonably straightforward, the majority of the roads were excellent and we did not need to be able to speak any other language!
NATURE AT IT'S BEST.
Our first port of call in Croatia was the large northern island of Krk, reached by toll bridge. We made for one of the F.K.K. [naturist] campsites. One priority on this "holiday" was to keep clothes washing to the minimum. The site was lovely, a bonus being numerous fig trees with delicious ripe fruit for the picking. Certainly no one here was bothering to wear any of the fig leaves! Apart from the main very public beaches, discreet naturism is completely acceptable throughout Croatia's coastline. We intended a 2-day practice pack and camp to ensure we had not left anything off our lists, but first we wanted a short easy paddle into the old town of Krk to view the narrow streets and stock up on provisions. The water was warm, very calm and as everywhere in Croatia, crystal clear. The sky was blue and cloudless. As we approached the harbour in under an hour, there was an abrupt change without warning to a very strong wind, a choppy sea, white horses and huge black clouds looming up from the south behind us. We were a bit taken aback! We had a chat about it with the local lad in the Dive Centre. Shrugging his shoulders he told us this was "Hugo". He had called all his dive boats back to base. It would last maybe 24 hours, finish and be replaced by "Bura". What was "Bura"? we questioned, having already read a bit about this one in the guidebook but hoping to get some real local information. "Bura" was very strong, came down from the mainland mountains in the east, lasted several days but led to a period of settled weather. "How long would the settled weather last?" we queried. Another shrug of the shoulders and a reply of "This is September. Anything can happen in September." Now we knew. Our English weather would stand us in good stead. Later we paddled back through choppy seas with breaking waves It was dark by 7.30 p.m. and before long we were being entertained in our large frame tent by a 6 hour light show in the form of a continuous electric storm and lashing rain. At 1 a.m. we were attaching extra guy lines.
THE TRIAL RUN Krk (30 Km)
Next morning was gloriously sunny. We'd packed the kayaks before the gale ready for an early start to our 2-day trial. As predicted the wind had changed and it was now the Bura. The site receptionist, speaking excellent English, advised us winds of 75 km/h. were forecast so we took to the car instead, surveying our intended route from the land. The sea stayed flat calm all day with a scorching sun.
At 7 a.m. next day the cleaner in the loo block predicted that the blowing force 3-4 wind would ease by the time the sun really got up and it did, at the campsite. The kayaks were impossibly heavy to carry the distance from tent to water so we used our trolley. With an abundance of white horses out to sea we hugged the land. The morning paddle was splendid in a slight sea but the increasing wind was very strange. It was impossible to predict at any point in time just which direction it would suddenly hit us from. We concluded that the island of Krk with its high limestone cliffs and headlands with differing orientations were causing these conditions. Approaching lunchtime and the halfway point to our intended campsite at Baska, we rounded a headland into what we expected would be a large but sheltered bay. Neither of us had ever seen conditions quite like this: a seething mass of white horses in an extremely choppy sea completely filled the bay. The tightly packed lowish waves weren't an issue but I wasn't going to make much headway in the now force 4-5 wind. Turning back to the previous bay, which was sheltered and very isolated, the decision was made to stay there for both the afternoon and the night. We swam, unsuccessfully fished and tackled the problem of a pebble beach - what do you do with the pegs of the tent? The answer was "Not a lot". So the tent stayed in its bag. My new bivi bag was going to be used for the first time and its guy lines secured with large stones. Although the beach was quite wide, it wasn't very deep so we each positioned our bivi parallel and quite close to the waters edge: tides are not very big in the Adriatic [about a metre]. The gentle swish of the water through the pebbles just an arm's reach away, in what was otherwise a night devoid of all other sound, was just one of the infinite rewards that our sea kayaking was to bring over the next month.
TEARS.
Having left Krk we drove to Jablana intending to camp at the site marked on the map and experience a short open crossing to the island of Rab. This was to be the first of several marked sites that we found no longer existed; perhaps the war had ended their viability. A local woman informed us the Bura blew so strongly in this area that sometimes it could be impossible to stand up in it and the ferry could not run. "Be Flexible" was going to have to be our motto so we drove on.
"On the last day of the Creation God desired to crown His work, and thus created the Kornati Islands out of tears, stars and breath." So wrote George Bernard Shaw about this National Park close to the mainland. We'd considered kayaking amongst these islands on our homeward journey in October and also had been looking forward to seeing their stark white beauty contrasted against a turquoise sea from the road. Unfortunately bucketfuls of tears were continuing to be thrown out of the sky the day we passed through and with the windscreen wipers working overtime we couldn't see a thing.
THE EXPEDITION.
The campsite at D' Seget suited our purposes down to the ground. It was right on the beach with easy launching. The owner was amenable to us leaving our car there for an indefinite period even though he thought we were absolutely mad. The nearby magnificent old walled town of Trogir is a World Heritage Site and described as "a jewel". It is. The marina provided us with our first sight of a Meteorological Office weather forecast and it was on our side. The wind was easing and a period of settled weather was moving in. We re-stocked on fresh provisions, filled water containers, sorted gear and each felt we were mentally prepared to paddle on every one of the 15 days it would probably take us to reach Dubrovnik. We weren't aiming for long distances each day for at age 55 I respect my limitations. And to Mick's continuing frustration, I'm not very fast!
Day 1 Saturday 9th September 2000 D' Seget to Solta (21 Km)
A growing number of people watched us pack our kayaks. I know they all thought, "No way is all that vast quantity of stuff going to fit in" because that's just what we thought. But it did all fit, even the brandy, wine, walking boots, tripod stools and trolley. We rechecked the lists. People took photos. Mick helped me launch. Embarrassed I called out "We forgot to buy the bread!" Oh well, at least I didn't capsize in front of them all!
After all of the preparations and planning it was a great feeling for Linda and I to get on to the water and start our expedition to Dubrovnik. Having taken a compass bearing to the NW end of Solta Island, I became immediately alarmed. I could not reconcile the fact that having cleared the campsite, we were paddling in an entirely different direction from the compass bearing taken. Islands and headlands could be seen in all directions and it took some time to scale what was in sight to that shown on the map. For the convenience of the Cartographer, the maps had been printed with North rotated by about 45 degrees, causing additional orientation difficulty. After some anxious moments I realised that I had confused the identity of the islands in view. Fortunately the error was quickly rectified and I resolved in future to thoroughly check out our orientation before getting on the water.
Confidence renewed, we passed the inlet to the village of Marina and changed course for a 7.5 km open crossing to Veli Drvenik Island. To the west the smaller island of Mali Drvenik could be seen and to the east the island of Ciovo on which part of Trogir is located. A series of small rock islets, some with navigational lights provided a good midway target but on passing showed no place to land. The white limestone rocky coastline of Veli Drvenik was barren and bare. Full bladders and thoughts of lunch began to focus on our minds but we had to paddle the southeastern side before being able to get off. Two small islands close to the coast of Veli Drvenik formed a natural harbour. We were not alone as several other flotilla boats and cruise schooners were also at this spot.
Refreshed and with continuing blue skies and little wind we made the 4.5 km open crossing to Solta with ease. The mountains on the northwest of Solta rise straight out of the sea and are a majestic sight. From a sea kayak, the first things that strike you about the coastline are the height of the mountains, lack of landing points and the sharpness of the limestone rocks. The highly porous limestone and Dolomitic rock is called karst. Karst is formed by the absorption of water into the surface limestone, which then corrodes allowing the water to seep into the harder layer underneath. In many places the rocks have a "dissolved" appearance, like melted snow or ice but with razor sharp edges and holes with a jagged profile. Even in a small swell a full boat would sustain a great deal of damage. The lack of get off points and inability to reliably predict a suitable camp spot was to become one of the key aspects of our daily planning. On rounding the headland near Rogac to our great relief we found a small beach backed by level ground under some fir trees.
The beach had a heap of very unsightly flotsom and jetsom, mostly assorted plastic products and some broken glass. Although generally "clean" and not smelly, it was to become a familiar sight that was to bug us. For safety and comfort I always wore walking boots in the evenings and early mornings though Mick wore sandals without mishap. A friendly young Croatian woman sitting alone in the cove enthused about us camping there. With chirruping cicadas above, the bivis were put up on the pine needle floor, quicker than erecting the 2 man tent. Wine, brandy and a substantial meal helped ease my tired and aching limbs and I drifted off to sleep to the sound of hooting owls, very happy at us having already become a pair of beach bums.
Day 2 Solta to Brac (20 Km)
Our main priority this morning was to buy bread. Round our first headland the small ferry port of Rogat had no suitable landing spot so we exited the kayaks on the water and secured them floating with the towline. The baker wouldn't sell us bread as we hadn't ordered any, but we had success with water: the person behind the local bar was our friend from yesterday evening and she kindly refilled our empty containers. By the time we reached the next village of Stormorska, the Market [as local food shops are called] had closed early because it was Sunday. A local resident called out for the owner to open up for us - we were extremely grateful! Fresh Croatian bread is delicious but on the following day it is "tired". However, thereafter we kept unused bread, just in case we couldn't obtain any, and there were to be several occasions when dried-up chunks were eaten ravenously, if not enthusiastically.
We were again blessed with blue skies, little wind and calm seas. In crystal clear water, numerous shoals of small silvery flying fish (possibly sardines) and cormorants entertained us as we paddled along the north coast of Solta. The limestone rock strata here is a geologists dream with inclined and contorted strata in all directions. A gently sloping slab of rock enabled us to get out for lunch and a swim in the 25 degree C. Adriatic Sea. Halfway across the narrow straight between the islands of Solta and Brac a large white car ferry came up at alarming speed from the direction of Split. Not wanting to play chicken we decided to wait and let it pass and speculated about the size of the bow wave we might encounter. Our concerns were ill founded, as there were no large waves; by comparison speeding motorboats created a larger disturbance. Our route now took us eastwards along the southern coast of Brac. Characterised by a series of deep inlets and raising expectations of a campsite for the night, closer examination showed that razor sharp rocks fringed the coves with not a pebble in sight. Enquiry with a local fisherman in Lucice Bay led him to suggest that we could land at the end of the inlet and camp on the concrete forecourt of a small, unoccupied stone cottage. As always we were to appreciate the superb comfort of our Thermarest air mattresses.
Day 3 Brac to Havar (25 Km)
Brac is renowned for its lustrous white building stone and the main rock strata was completely different to the previous islands. The morning paddle took us along a very barren coastline with distant views of the mountains of the island of Hvar shrouded in a heat haze to the south. A smooth and uneventful 5.5 km open crossing with a F2 head wind took us to the navigation light on the point of Hvar's Kabal peninsular. On passing the light a following wind assisted us to our lunch spot but within an hour the wind had reversed direction and we battled all the way into the town of Stari Grad against a F4.
We were desperate for a shower to wash off a high accumulation of salt. Lips were becoming sore. Our ration of a cup of fresh water each day to wash with was inadequate but couldn't be increased. The zips on our salt streaked buoyancy aids were clogged and proving difficult to do up and our canoeing clothes were as stiff as though they had been starched. Sunbathers at the hotel on the edge of town told us there was a campsite in the Centre. There was, up a hill. More critically, the large harbour had a stonewall bordering the water making it absolutely impossible to get the heavily laden boats out. There was only one slipway, on the opposite side to the site and an impractical distance to wheel the boats on the trolley. Mick clambered out over the wall and did the shopping while I bobbed about making plans. We paddled back just past the hotel and landed. Dishevelled, we ambled into the hotel trying to look like a couple of guests just happening to be carrying several plastic milk bottles, soap and shampoo. The beautiful swimming pool with its elegant patio had an outside, but curtained, cold shower. After treading the clothes while luxuriating in lather, we emerged redressed in wet, clean, clinging garments feeling, if not exactly looking, a million dollars. Oh the simple pleasures in life!
Day 4 Hvar (25 Km)
Camping on a terraced hillside a short distance further up the coast, we were entertained at breakfast by a herd of the prettiest goats we have ever seen, nibbling their way along a narrow path and clambering over the terrace walls with the leader's bell clanging. Clearance of the very stony steep land for vineyards, olive groves and other agriculture has resulted in stonewalls everywhere and will be one of the abiding memories we have of Croatia.
The morning started with a 3 km crossing of the long Stari Grad inlet to the NW coast of Hvar. On route the now familiar white car ferry crossed our path and many yachts motored by with no sails set in the still air. There were numerous bays and inlets, some too small to feature on the map, and with no identifiable features on the land it was difficult to be accurate as to our location. A transit back to the Kabal peninsular navigation light proved very useful. Even after several days of kayaking experience in the area I was surprised when we entered the bay headed by the village of Vira as I had underestimated our speed despite the growing NE wind. Linda was obviously getting fit! The wind continued to build, with swell and clapotis becoming larger at every headland as we neared the furthest westerly point of Hvar. Yachts were now racing with full sail at speed ahead of us. The mind was focussed by the conditions and Linda was not amused at being distracted by my casual comment that the insignificant "street lamp" on the point was not at all like the classic lighthouse on Beachy Head. We had planned to spend a day in the town of Hvar and wanted to camp before reaching there. Our luck was in and we were fortunate to find a concrete landing stage next to a semi- derelict fishing warehouse in the Garska inlet about 3 km from the centre.
By now I could lift the extremely heavy kayaks to waist height rather than ankle height, and actually carry them a few metres. Surprisingly it was the developing leg muscles that enabled this feat of strength from my 5ft. 3in. frame. But here we left the boats by the water and used our pink, Chinese laundry bags to efficiently move all the gear up an awkward slope and 30 metres to the clean building. We watched enviously as occupants of a luxury cruise boat, also spending the night in the inlet, hosed each other down with fresh water after their swim. Stringing up a washing line between ancient brackets in the warehouse, we hung up our wave-damp gear to dry.
Day 5 Hvar (7 Km)
Yesterday's damp gear was now wringing wet with condensation despite being under a roof. We were experiencing heavy dew on most mornings leading to the sad decision never to get up before 7.00.a.m.! As we entered the bay of ancient fortified Hvar, I cannily eyed up a classy, large hotel with "later" in mind. The waters edge of the wonderful harbour area of the town was again stone walled so we paddled our way to the fishermen's area and left the kayaks on the beach amongst the small local boats. Part of our kit was a metal security line and padlock but we never once felt the need to use it. Only the G.P.S. and V.H.F. radio were taken with us when we left everything unattended. Medieval Hvar, built of honey-coloured stone, is another of Croatia's jewels and we spent a very happy morning exploring the steep, narrow streets with hardly another tourist in sight. July and August are the months to avoid! On finishing a relaxed lunch at the local restaurant next to our fishermen's beach, we produced the maps, seeking advice from its owners on Market and water availability along the forthcoming section of coast. A drawn-out "Jeeeezooos" while crossing themselves led to useful information and a filling of all our water containers for us. We had not yet seen, nor were to see, any other sea kayaks in Croatia and people we met always expressed more than just a little bit of awe in what we were doing. A trip back across the bay to that designated hotel, a change into swimwear on the beach, a confident walk resulting in the bouncer on the main door actually pointing out to us where the indoor swimming pool and its hot showers were, and we were very happy bunnies again. The wide harbour entrance was now very busy with a variety of vessels, some trailing fishing lines, and we needed to be very alert whilst crossing it once more. Continuing for just a couple of km down the coast we came to a very pleasant, if public, beach. Out of courtesy, we asked the owner of the shack style café if she minded if we camped. It was no problem and she even agreed that her husband would fetch us a loaf of bread when he went for theirs next morning!
Day 6 Hvar (23 Km)
Today's paddle was tourist territory along a stunning coastline with lovely beaches in glorious weather. Hvar is the sunniest of all the Croatian islands and we found the sun particularly powerful here. Right from Krk, to avoid getting burnt while paddling, we had both worn cream, long sleeved silk shirts on the water. Unfortunately the silk seemed to be weakening by the salt build up and the shirts had begun to tear. Sleeves were hanging off, Mick's was particularly well shredded and we had now really taken on the appearance of a pair of beach bums. We camped on the official naturist section of Zavala Village beach. The most endearing memory of our whole expedition has to be that evening when a Czechoslovakian priest, on his holiday, chatted to us about the price of local wine. He was clad solely in a pair of bright yellow flippers that exactly matched my Pintail.
Day 7 Hvar (18 Km)
I was eventually to find the Market some two hundred metres up the steep mountainside. What you have to do to get bread for the day! A friendly local in a nearby bar filled our water containers but we later found it highly chlorinated and slightly brackish. Up till now all the Croatian tap water had been excellent. A noisy, sizable Croatian Naval vessel shot past at speed, close to shore causing quite a substantial bow wave. Having established a routine we were in our element. More efficient at packing the boats, we left as the first of the naturists were arriving. Recognising some from the previous evening they were amazed to find us still on the beach realising we had been there all night. The morning's paddle provided good views of the island of Scedro to the south and this gave us a positive feel to our progress and location. Tourists were no longer seen. The central section on the south coast of Hvar was beautiful. Here the high mountains more gently sloped with pine trees down to water level. Whenever there were pine trees, a glorious subtle perfume wafted around us. Ancient terracing was everywhere, with huge piles of discarded rocks, incalculable in number that must have taken a lifetime of labour to move. In some places, vineyards stretched almost to the top of the mountains on the sunny slopes. There was no habitation, just the occasional stone fishing hut, and a few more bays to enable a comfortable pee. The island of Korcula further to our south was shrouded in heat haze and only the top of the mountain ridge could be seen. With Scedro now well behind us, it again became difficult to be precise as to our exact location. Surprisingly the Plocica rock some 10 km to our south could just be seen providing a singular compass bearing. But the mountains grinning out of the haze on the western end of the Peljesac peninsular were not much help as we could not be positive as to what we were actually seeing. We also had now become aware that the morning wind here came from the west assisting our journey and in the afternoon came from the east to slow us down to confuse our estimation of speed on the water. Apart from the familiar white Jadrolinija Line car ferry passing toward Korcula we did not see any yachts or more importantly small fishing boats (usually an indication that we were in the area of habitation.) Whilst there were more pebble beaches, identifying the precise location of our camp proved to be impossible. Before getting off the water both Linda and I took independent compass bearings of where we perceived through the heat haze, the tip of the Peljesac peninsular (our target for the following day's open crossing) to be. A compromise of 130 degrees was agreed and I took comfort that the GPS would finalise our exact whereabouts. The GPS did provide a precise location. However, unfolding the map I was dismayed to find that only some grid lines were shown with longitude and latitude but with insufficient markings to enable the remaining grid lines to be identified. I was faced with the bizarre fact that we had an accurate fix from the GPS but unable to relate this to the map. Thank heaven we took the compass bearing, as there was no guarantee the heat haze would be any different in the morning. At best we reckoned we were at a cove named Srhov Dolac, the only place showing three huts in an inlet with a profile that looked right on the map.
As we unpacked the kayaks, several wasps descended around us. They were the longest wasps I'd ever seen, a good 5 cm., very slim and really rather beautiful. I have nasty reactions to bites and stings so I kept my antihistamine tablets close to hand just in case. However the wasps weren't the slightest bit aggressive, only extremely inquisitive and they systematically investigated all our gear. Discovering my soggy neoprene boots they became fixated and all else was totally ignored by them until they flew off about an hour later. As canoeists and those close to them know, neoprene boots have a unique fragrance so I was flattered by their attention! Spiky sea urchins are very prevalent close to shore throughout Croatia so footwear is advisable at all times when in the water. I might not have worn anything else when swimming but those boots got well used! Generally we weren't bothered very much by insects on the beaches but did get quite bitten at campsites just inland.
With some apprehension we went to bed knowing the longest open crossing we were to tackle on our expedition was to be based on an uncertain start point.
Day 8 Hvar to Peljesac Peninsular (19 Km)
We got up at 0600 to provide an additional hour of paddling before lunch. Also with high temperatures it would be best to get the majority of the open crossing over at a cooler time. The mountains of the Peljesac peninsular and Korcula were possibly slightly better to see and a new compass bearing of 140 degrees was agreed, increasing the distance from 8 km to about 10 km. There was little wind, a slight sea and the sky indicated no obvious change in the weather. We saw nothing during our crossing except a large container vessel that came up at speed from the direction of the Plocica rock. The Peninsular gradually became more visible through the haze and we began to identify more detail of the emerging land mass. At this stage we realised that whilst our 140-degree heading was good, we were actually about 2 km further to the west than we had estimated. The net result was that the original 8 km crossing had been extended to 14 km by the time we'd cleared the second of the two headlands entering the sound between Korcula and the Peljesac peninsular. The crossing had taken 4 hours. The exhaustingly hot last hour had been hard going for Linda. During this time the sea surface had become very smooth but continuously covered in very small ripples. She called this state "Reverse Thrust Ripples". We encountered these particular conditions several times during our expedition and she could see them coming up. Her boat instantly put its brakes on and it took her an enormous amount of effort to maintain speed. I could feel the drag on my boat but with its different hull shape was less affected. Suddenly the ripples might disappear for a short time giving a totally glassy effect, releasing the boat to glide fast completely without effort. On reaching the peninsular we were thankful to quickly find a tiny inlet and beach to ease our numb bums and eat. Emerging an hour later we met a blast of wind coming up against us from the southeast. Unbelievably the water had been transformed into a mass of white caps and chop from a good F3. Reaching a small bay after 5 km and thinking this was just the afternoon wind we got out to let it die down. It didn't. It continued to increase and storm clouds began to race across the sky from the S.E. The pebble beach, sheltered from the wind, provided an opportunity to camp, so it didn't take long to decide to stay and capitalise on our good fortune on finding such a spot.
Day 9 Peljesac Peninsular (6 Km)
Despite our sheltered position we had experienced a night of strong gusts and the bivis had been well battered. On waking, the wind was now gusting F5. We had to leave as nearly all our water had been used. Putting on my buoyancy aid, which had been stored in the cockpit overnight, I found a neat round hole, about the size of a 10p piece, had been nibbled in one of the pockets. The Mars Bar inside had little nibbles in it too. Thereafter all food was put in the hatches under hard covers. Hugging the coast and seeking every opportunity to rest in the lee of the headlands it took a painfully long time to creep to the small village of Viganj where sail boarders were racing at phenomenal speed back and forth across the water to Korcula Island. To our relief the crew on the moored Viganj-Oribec ferry indicated a nearby campsite.
As the site was some distance from the waters edge we needed to use the trolley. The site owner spoke no English but a lovely old German couple translated for us. Told the Market was shut, as it was Sunday, the owner gave us a substantial quantity of food from her own kitchen and absolutely refused any payment for it. We were her first English clients!
Day 10 Peljesac Peninsular (7 Km)
Despite concerns of our German friends on our intention to continue in this weather, they enthusiastically videoed us as we launched. The going, close to the coast road, continued to be hard. Every time we paused for a rest the husband appeared on his motorbike to ask if we were finishing for the day and looked quite depressed to see us paddle off again to the next the headland. At lunchtime we exchanged a final handshake. Later, on entering the harbour at Orebic, the small Viganj ferry passed us with a hooting horn and waving from the crew. We assumed our friend had asked that they keep an eye out for us! A town plan on the quayside indicated a campsite 2 km further on. Paddling out from behind the protection of the substantial harbour wall we were bounced and thrown by the reflected waves, chop and swell. We increasingly became more exposed to the growing conditions to the extent that I was becoming concerned as to what might be coming next. The kayak was being constantly turned broadside to the waves and there were moments when I felt decidedly uncomfortable. Mick as usual just paddled along with ease but did admit later that the water had been a bit technical and our local Shoreham Harbour entrance had been good training! For the first time this trip we encountered surf. The waves were dumping onto the steep pebble beach by the small campsite. Mick surfed in O.K. but lost items stored under deck elastics in the following engulfing wave. I was still hanging back hoping for a helping hand while he splashed about retrieving them. To Mick's relief [oh ye of little faith] my paddle brace got me in upright. But not quick enough in heaving myself out of my small-sized ocean cockpit, I had to crawl out sideways in the next crashing wave. For the first time we were cold and noticed that the growing audience on the beach were uncharacteristically wrapped up in thick anoraks. The site owner told us this was Hugo and Bura would follow for many days. He was to be very obliging and later was to refuse any payment of our site fees.
Day 11 Korcula
We visited the nearby island of Korcula by ferry. In the marina an English sailor was also reading the posted Met. Office Forecast. He was emphatic that we'd underestimated our wind speeds during the past two days as he had measured a good F6 in the harbour. The Forecast confirmed a poor outlook of unsettled weather with strong winds. With this in mind and a bleak, isolated, unfriendly coastline coming up for at least the next 2 days paddling, we felt we shouldn't continue our expedition until there was an improvement. This delay meant the logistics of our fuel would be an issue. We had more gas cylinders and the petrol can in the car. We decided to adopt our motto to "Be Flexible". Leaving our gear, we could catch the familiar car ferry as foot passengers from Korcula to Split and then a bus to Trogir. After collecting the car and avoiding Bosnia, return to pick up everything; drive further south and continue with Day 12 of our expedition by paddling to Dubrovnik. Then, in the reverse direction, paddle through the Elafiti Islands to the mainland end of the Peljisic Peninsular. This would complete the majority of the missing section.
Wednesday 20th September.
A cadged lift on a fire engine saved a long walk carrying essential gear in our pink laundry bags. The 6-hour ferry journey cost us £6 each and turned out to be one of the highlights of our time in Croatia. We basically retraced our paddling route but from a distance. Sitting out on deck we recognised everywhere we'd been and it reinforced our visual images. I kept wanting to shout out "We went there in a sea kayak" but no one would have believed me! Despite the gloriously sunny day, we had a very strong wind and a sea of continuous white horses the whole way. But the lack of big ocean waves and swell here is due to the short fetch between the islands.
Mick and I had been so lucky to have had the good conditions when, and for as long, as we did.
Day 12 Saturday 23rd September Dubrovnik (24 Km)
Getting ready for simply a day paddle was a bit alien and we were disorganised. The skies were blue with just a F2 wind coming from different directions as we paddled out of the Zaton inlet towards the very extensive area of Dubrovnik. On our route towards the island of Daksa we saw the pilot boat meet the RR One, a huge black-hulled cruise liner, to guide her into the large port section we could see immediately to our left. We stayed a respectable distance away even though its speed by then had greatly reduced. This was the busiest shipping area we encountered in Croatia with commercial vessels, yachts and fisherman travelling in all directions. Care had to be taken near any vessel, particularly the smaller ones, as invariably they were trailing fishing lines. On passing astern of a small cruiser about 20 metres away I was disturbed to find that the front toggle of my boat had snagged its line. A lighthouse is prominent on the Grebeni rocks and the most eastern rock of the cluster has a distinctive stepped shape. The Lapad Peninsular of Dubrovnik has a number of large hotels. One new one had been built to blend in with the gently rising profile of the rocky coast. Another which could be seen from miles away was a typical 60's square tower block and looked very much out of place to it modern neighbour. On the south side of the peninsular, high, vertical, smooth rock faces rise straight from the cobalt blue sea and they provided magnificent views while we battled against the significantly increased wind. On rounding a headland and expecting now to see beautiful sights of the Old Town we were dismayed to find just the skeleton of a war-abandoned hotel and a small beach with very steep steps up the cliff. Whilst I climbed up in the mid day sun to find bread, Linda consulted the guidebook to check that we had in fact come the correct side of the peninsular. With loaf in hand I was met with a grin confirming we were on track but the Old Town was still 2 to 3 km further on. The ancient and fortified walled city came into view. The thrill of paddling along the base of the massive stonewalls towering above us and entering the ancient harbour of this beautiful medieval city was fantastic. This had been our goal and subject of our dreams for many months and the panoramic views lived up to our every expectation. This was definitely the most scenic city we had seen in the country and to enter it by sea kayak was absolute magic. We speculated how many British paddlers had made this journey before us and suspected that there had not been a lot.
Retracing our route, Linda more than once exclaimed, "It's just not fair!" as the freshening F3 blew from entirely the reverse direction to the morning and was again against us. Our wonderful afternoon tour of the city and climbing up to and along the high city walls in the heat had taken its toll. It took some time beating through chop and clapotis before finding protection at the end of the peninsular. We returned to our campsite tired, but so elated that we had visited this World Heritage Site in a manner that only a sea kayaker can appreciate.
Day 13 Zaton
The night had been noisy from continual traffic on the nearby main coast road but more significantly blasts of wind could be heard coming from the mountains of the Dinaric Alps behind the site. At 0700 the tops of the tall poplar trees and palms were being bent at right angles. The inlet was being whipped into a frenzy of small white-capped waves and a second look was not needed to prompt me back into my sleeping bag. Thinking that we were in for a further period of unsettled weather we decided to take the day off from paddling. At 1100 however it was as calm as a millpond, the wind had dropped away and we realised that this was just another local wind playing tricks with us. We could have paddled after all.
Day 14 Elafiti Islands (15 Km)
Another noisy night of traffic, a weather pattern exactly like yesterday and with that experience we decided to continue our expedition through the Elafiti Islands back to the Peljesic Peninsular. These smaller islands form a chain running parallel to the mainland and they are to be designated a National Park in the near future. It was a superb paddle back down the Zaton inlet and an open crossing to the island of Kolocep. We kept to its mainland facing side, quite low in height but we saw not a single place to get off the water due to the razor sharp rocks until we came to the village on the N.W. end. The beach here, backed by palm trees and oleanders, was unusually of sand. Crossing to the next island of Lopud we paddled along its open-ocean side. Here the cliffs rose straight out of the water, contorted and stained with hues of pink and brown. Again there was no opportunity to get off the water until we reached its village. We spoke to several locals, each emphatic that on this island, where cars are forbidden, we had to stay at the hotel, as camping was not allowed. Despite the language barrier we mostly didn't have problems making ourselves understood in Croatia, as many English tourist key words are known. The hotel beach-bar lad came up as we carried the boats to the least conspicuous spot. He told us "It is a big adventure for someone of your years to be doing this!" and invited us to camp where we stood. Not wanting to compromise his job, we booked into the very pleasant hotel. Crisp white sheets. A shower with hot water. And a loo that when you wanted to "go" didn't require the need to dig a hole with the trowel. One downside was the water, so highly chlorinated it was almost toxic.
Day 15 Elafiti Islands (15 Km)
Mick nipped along the harbour to buy a loaf but found that all bread here was shipped in on the mid-day ferry. Not to worry, we should make the main village on the next island of Sipan by just about lunchtime and we'd buy it there. The paddle was absolutely glorious up the open-ocean side with beautiful scenery and no wind. Never mind that there wasn't a single spot to get off for even just a pee: Mick was very adept at using the bottle he kept at hand for the purpose and I had long since lost all inhibitions at going just where I sat and mopping out with the sponge.
The Market didn't even open till 4.30 p.m. as that was when the ferry came in delivering the island's bread. We delved into the boats to find a few days' backdated crusts to eat with the boiled eggs, cheese and pate smuggled out from breakfast. Having now to wait around for the ferry, as it was essential to buy bread for tomorrow, we explored the village, had a slow beer and read our books in the sunshine. Fortunately the ferry was on time. We really were very anxious about quickly finding somewhere to camp as it now was getting dark by 7.00 p.m. A very pretty coastline led us past terraces of olive groves and sweet smelling woodland. A three-generation family were sunbathing au naturelle on the tiniest of pebble beaches. I'm ashamed to say we just blatantly stayed very close up until they took the hint and left in their motorboat. After unpacking the kayaks we had to put them below the high water mark secured with the towline. There was literally only room for us and the bivis - and the rat that later visited and preened himself. Another visitor in the night was a local fisherman. We were jolted out of sleep by a cross voice calling repeatedly "Why you need fire?" Seeing our nightlight across the water he had mistaken it for a fire. To save batteries in the head torches we safely used a 4-hour night candle in a dimpled pint beer mug with a reflector of aluminium foil. Leaping out of his boat, he stormed onto the spare inch of beach. He apologised for disturbing us when he saw there wasn't a fire but we well understood his anxiety. We had seen vast stretches of burnt out mountainside in many places over the past month. Invariably a solitary night fisherman had plied back and forth in a small traditional boat with an outboard motor in almost every bay we had camped in, often giving a wave, but as far as we were aware, this was the first time we had been perceived to be a problem. The remainder of the night passed in blissful silence with the thrill of seeing a shooting star.
Day 16 Elafiti Islands to Peljesac Peninsular to Mainland (22 Km)
A simply spectacular paddle in a glassy smooth sea took us across to Jakljan, passing the small islands of Kosmec, Crkvina and Tajan, all uninhabited. Olipa, with just two buildings, was the final island in the Elafiti chain before we crossed the narrow channel to the end point of the Peljisic Peninsula. We had done it! We hoped to get off the water and toast our achievement properly but that razor sharp limestone was not going to allow it. A swig of water had to suffice.
It was great feeling of overall achievement to have reached the southeastern end of the peninsular. Gut feeling told us not to test our luck with the unpredictable weather by continuing up the remaining, mainly isolated, coastline to Orebic, some 60 km to the northwest during the afternoon and the next 2 days. For that would make the return trip back to Zaton a further 4 days on top. It was a shame to miss this part and not have the total satisfaction of having paddled the whole way from D' Seget. So we started to make our way back to Zaton.
A remarkable set of vertical rocks on top of the hill here stand silhouetted against the sky looking very much like standing stones. Continuing round Olipa we saw bright yellow coral, sea cucumbers, shoals of fish, sea anenomoes and sea urchins beneath us in the pristine water. A 5 km open crossing past the Tajan rock took us back to Sipan and the inevitable search for a lunch spot. A miniscule beach on the tip of Sipan enabled the boats to be beached and provided magnificent panoramic views back to the mainland. Thistles and sharp rocks however were not so kind on our bums, prompting a short stay. A further 5 km crossing took us to the mainland where unfortunately traffic on the main coast road could be heard. There was noticeably more habitation here compared with the islands and a tourist about to go snorkelling told us about a beach 1 km further to the south. We were amazed to find a superb 200 m. wide pebble beach, far larger than anything we had seen so far. The area had been set up as a small campsite with beach-bar and toilet block. The surrounding hillside right down to the sea and around the camp buildings had been burnt from yet another forest fire and was no doubt the reason the site was now closed-up. We set up the bivis discretely at one end of the beach and using some white patio chairs that had been left, we dined in style. The heavy traffic using the coast road seemed endless and included a number of Red Cross lorries going south. A small white truck with UN markings stopped here to enable the occupants to have a swim.
Day 17 Return to Zaton (14 Km)
A pair of dolphins graced our salty ablutions. What a thrill! This went a long way towards easing our disappointment at the surprising lack of seabirds observed throughout our travels. The clear morning provided superb views to Sipan and Lopud. Along this stretch were our only sightings of caves, just big enough to paddle into. There were many more pebble beaches than on any of the islands we had visited and speculated that this may be due to seasonal rivers formed in the mountains. Approaching Arboretum a large terraced villa had been completely burnt leaving the stonewalls looking very stark and bare. We had hoped to buy bread here but seeing that the majority of the habitation was at the top of the steep, long hill, decided to pass it by. Fortunately Arboretum itself had escaped the forest fire and the views of the harbour, stone buildings and surrounding trees were magnificent. Our final lunch stop opposite Kolocep featured stale bread again but large juicy tomatoes helped it to slide down. Keeping into the coast on the western side of the Zaton inlet we passed close to traditional old villas and glided into small, tranquil village harbours. A fitting end to our 17-day expedition during which time we had paddled 260 km.
RAGS TO RICHES.
Two days later, after visiting Split, another incredible World Heritage Site, we'd driven to Vodice. The large marina here serves the Kornati Islands where we hoped to spend some further days paddling. Standing in drizzle and wind we gloomily read the Met. Office Forecast. It was a depressing outlook for the Adriatic and the whole of Europe. Our gut feelings had proved correct and we were relieved we'd made the right decision not to go back to Orebic. We now felt there was no point in struggling on and not fully enjoying ourselves so next day we packed up to begin the long journey home. Again we never saw the beautiful Kornati Islands from the coast road as this time bathfuls of tears were tipping out of the sky, visibility was virtually zero and lightening flashed all around with instantaneous thunder.
During our final night in Croatia we stayed at the elegant Grand Hotel Kvarner in Opatija. Romanian and Swedish kings and Russian tsars stayed here at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries. Now it was the turn of a pair of transformed beach bums to eat a sumptuous meal under the same chandeliers in the ballroom. They'd turn in their graves!
Copyright © Mick and Linda Fitter 6.11.2000.
