Of course, was all absolute tosh.

What we got was stunning scenery, one of the best sailing region we’ve ever visited, shy but friendly people mostly speaking good English, great low cost wine, and never a bad meal.  And the only place we’ve paid to anchor were in National Parks.

So my recommendation, if you’re looking for a new place to go sailing in Europe, would be to sample Croatia.  From what we’ve seen in a single month, it’s got more to offer a sailor than the Caribbean, Greece or Turkey. 

We left the young guys in Dubrovnik, and sailed back up north west to the top end of Mjlet Island and its national parkland for two days of chilling prior to setting out for Italy.  Had to motor sail most of the leg as the winds were light, but we slid along over flat water enjoying the day.

We did not expect Croatia to have one last surprise in store - but it arrived late arvo as we closed the series of bays we planned to stay in.

You’ll recall my comments on how these things can creep up on you in Greece?

Well the buttock clenching surprise they gave us back in Poros was nothing compared with having not just one, but two of these thingies drop out of the sky.

They’re water bombers - used to fight forest fires by dumping seawater from the air.  We watched firstly with delight, as the two of them lumbering in from the NE at maybe only 500 feet, flew across us from starboard and disappeared over the top of the islands mountains set on our port side. 

What we did not expect, was to suddenly hear the thunder of their radial engines as they’d obviously turned, and dropping back down a cleft in the wooded mountainside, dived straight towards the water only a few hundred yards from our own course.  The two of them took slightly differing headings, so we had one coming down looking like they were landing each side of us. 

If I were in a car I’d know to pull over for a fire truck.  But what’s one supposed to do when on open water? 

We could only throttle back, unsure of their intentions, to see them both level off just above the water, then gently settle down in a wave of spray to scoop in seawater, and 10 seconds later their engine notes deepened as they struggled back up into the air once again, presumably fully laden.

As they then looped back to disappear over the island again we opened our own throttle to continue onward towards the narrow channel entry to our  bay, only to have them swoop round in front of us from behind the island, and do it all over again.  From the deck of our small yacht, it looked like a good imitation of a bombers dive run – aiming at us!

The thunder of the engines gave us enough warning to snatch up the camera and snap away as they repeated the exercise a second time.

We can only assume they were training, as there was no smoke from the island, but I did not wait to get in the way of a third go.  So we turned sharp left and closed to within 100 metres of the high wooded shore-side south of our bay entry, hoping that close to the trees, we’d be out of their way.

In the time it took for us to follow the shoreline northward and enter our bay, they performed the circuit five times.  Then presumably satisfied, gave a waggle of their wings, and flew off back north east - still only 500 feet up. 

What a blast!

Anyway.  We had a relaxing couple of days swimming, hiking and lazing in Mjlet. I a perfect way to say goodbye to Croatia.  Found we needed the enforced exercise, as our first 6 mile hikes up steep wooded pathways felt to me like 20 miles on a flat road!

On one days outing we hiked over the mountain to the hamlet of Soline, set on the ‘lakeside’.  Really was a one horse town so surprised to meet up with a Londoner who now lives there.  Here’s a shot of his yacht, parked up directly opposite his front door. 

Dave married Rosie, a local girl, when he was out here five years back as a charter skipper.  They then purchased the GibSea Yacht in the UK, and sailed it out here for private use.  He and Rosy now run a couple of eco apartments and help out mother in law who operates a very small café on Solines one and only road.  Long lazy chat of relaxed light lunch – everything from wine to salami to cheese made by mum.

So if anyone really wants an away from it all type vacation - let me know and we'l pass over their contact details. 

Finally left Mjlet with some sadness (but promises to return) midday Saturday 21^st, to overnight the 130 miles to the port of Brindisi on the Italian east coast. 

When we’ve a distance to cover, we prefer to sail at night.  No 1 – it’s cool.  Plus there is something comforting knowing you’re totally in charge of everything around you.  And the seas and the heavens usually deliver up something worth experiencing.

We had to use the engine for the early part of this leg as the winds were quite light, but with it on just 1500 revs (tick over really) and even a slight amount of wind from the side or behind, we find having the sails up also helps to create an apparent wind of up to 9+ knots, in turn helping us to achieve 6+ knots boat speed.

The latter part of the leg saw the wind lick in from the north west, and we did get five hours or so of just plain sailing. 

The Central Adriatic heading south this time seemed empty, that is until we got down off Bari – when every ferry in Italy decided to come out and rumble close in front or behind us.  Keeps you on your toes. 

The night was hot and damp.  I’d guess it did not drop below 25 degrees.  Sweat was pouring off when I started typing this, and that was at 0300 local time!  As we shouldered on through the night there was lots of radio chatter over the airwaves, with US and Italian warships checking up on just about every passing vessel, and the childlike and oft abusive responses given by some fisherman do make you shake your head.  Shame they can’t be identified.  Or maybe grow up.

Had three pods of dolphins come say hello just before sunset.  Nearly ruined Sue’s meal as they blew to let us know they were alongside, as she rushed away from the stove to join me on the bow to watch the displays.  Dolphins never cease to amaze me and always make us feel special.  A visit is treated as an omen for a good voyage.  The first two pods were big beasties with white bellies who chased along under our bow hovering inches from the boat at speed and just broaching the surface to breath.  This was not the shot – but gives you the idea.

But the last pod was two smaller dolphins, who managed to top their bigger cousins display by doing multiple jumps completely clear of the water. 

I slept from 2200 to 0100, when we swopped roles.  I spent a lot of my night shift hours also playing around further with our SSB Radio email facility – leaving the radar pinging away and just jumping up on deck each 15 minutes to check for the closer boats.

For those who don’t know, SSB Radio waves have an ability to travel further when the ozone layer is not effected by the sun.  So a daytime range of say 500 miles on one frequency increases up to 000’s at night.  Picked up and replied to a number of emails stacked and waiting for us with Sailmail (the mob who run this radio – email service) and it looks like we might be able to rendezvous with two pals yachts also currently heading for Italy from Greece.  Good news if we can all do it.

It’s now 0700 local time.  I’ve just had 3 hours kip and come up so Sue can go down.  Winds again gone soft, engines back on.  It is looking like it will be another hot day.  I’ve no sympathy for the rain in the UK at the moment – in fact love some right here right now.

Can’t yet see the Italian coast, but it’s sure to break through the haze shortly.  I estimate we’ll be off Brindizi 0930.  All the ferries have gone to bed now its daylight, the deck and cushions are beginning to dry out the heavy dew from last night.  Sliding along at 7.5 knots towards our destination across an absolutely empty and gently rolling glassy sea.  Nice one. 

Well done everybody.

JOHN