A Unique Blog Update from a Visitor to Lone Star

Capt’n Blabby and Stick’s Reunion Voyage---2011 Dubrovnik to Trogir, Croatia
or
How Stick Spent His Summer Vacation

For all you landlubbers, want-a-be sailors and seasoned salts, this is a “true story” of the Reunion Voyage of Capt’n Blabby and Stick. All names are fictitious to protect any innocence the actors may claim. Any of you folks that have kept up with our adventures--know our history. And of course, there are those less enlightened souls that have not. To those less enlightened a little history will add to this voyage.

J-J (the lovely bride of Capt’n Blabby) and Stick are childhood friends. Our parents attended high school together. We grew up in the same neighborhood, attended the same schools, Red Elementary, Johnston Jr. High and, Westbury High School. Westbury being the home of the Fightin’ Rebels and their mascot Johnny Reb, resembled Nick Adams on The Rebel, a hit TV show in the late 50’s and early 80’s. Westbury’s fame is worldwide. As evidence by Westbury’s and the Confederate States of America’s Battle Flag honorably painted on a monument in Hvar, Croatia.My lovely bride, Ms. P. on the left (also a graduate of the famed Westbury); yours truly, Stick in the middle; and J-J on the right. One thing about the good ol’ Westbury Rebels is: ours was about heritage not prejudice. Sadly, political correctness flushed our honorable heritage down the toilet shortly after our graduation. Johnny Rebel was replaced with “Rowdy Rebel” whose resemblance was exactly that of Yosemite frickin’ Sam, who lead the once proud and victorious alter mater to its present state of defeat and decline.

Not to be getting away for the voyage, this is just to let you know J-J and Stick have a little “history”, if you know what I mean. Capt’n Blabby, well he was a late comer-a-longer. The Capt’n and I became buddies in College, at the pride of the State of Texas: Texas A & M University. Although our exact introduction is blurred by history and mystery, we meet through sailing and a lanky dude named Cajun Joe, the promoter of the largest and longest running booray game in the history of A & M. Rumor has it Cajun Joe profited so from the game he escaped back to Louisiana and attend LSU. Cajun Joe had a history of escaping, as he also escaped Castro’s Cuba in his early days. Cajun Joe frequently sails on Lone Star and Seabbatical. (Frequently here means more that I have cruised on Lone Star and Seabbatical.) Others claim, Blabby and I became buds as we both drank the same favorite beer: free and cold. Being teammates on the sailing team at A & M, I was able to teach Capt’n Blabby all he knows about sailing. Thankfully, we had Joe Gray who designed the Headhunter Catamaran also on board. Joe assisted me, only when necessary, to teach Blabby the finer points of sailboat design, construction and theory. Few may know or realize, Joe and I taught Blabby how to build his first sailboat, the Headhunter Catamaran. OK, Blabby did have a hand in it and without us his hand would have been worthless. And there was Steve Pearce, who taught us the enjoyment of patience while waiting for the 4 o’clock winds on Lake Summerville. And we cannot forget Tarzan Tom, who earned his name by wearing diapers on a Texas Clipper summer cruise and swinging from a rope and yodeling like Tarzan. Yes, things can get crazy at sea. A point you fellas sailing Lone Star across the Atlantic to Saint Lucia might want to remember. Tarzan Tom inspired adventure and the fact that even a blind hog can find an acorn and no voyage is impossible. Tarzan Tom’s claim to fame was he sailed a Venture 21 across the Sea of Cortez, there and back, stocked only with plastic jugs of water and an igloo. Anyway, we all remained as Lake Somerville sailors, Blabby rose to the rank of Capt’n and set off to sail the Seven Seas, bragging of his voyages by post card. At least, now you know where the mighty adventurer had his humble beginnings and training. Something I am sure he has not shared with you as I am sure he only boasts of his captain school and other maritime institutes he attended. Anyway, Jan visited to A & M; and some claim I introduced the happy couple, others claim it was fate. As far as I am concerned it is a mystery---it makes a better story. Thankfully she attended and graduated from A & M, and Craig had the good sense to marry her. So, after years of begging and pleading on my part, and using the guilt card and every other ploy at hand----Capt’n Blabby relented to this reunion tour---knowing I would reveal his humble sailing upbringings and those who taught him so well. Well, it is time to stow the gear, hoist the sails and begin our journey as shown on the map below. The numbered circles indicating the places we anchored or docked each night.



Dan Jedan: DUBROVNIK, on mainland Croatia

(Stick sharing a little of the Croatian language he learned on the trip: “Day One” in the Mother Tongue for you English speakers.)

Of course the adventure begins with Blabby figuring a way to screw Stick. The boy has control issues. The Capt’n found a harbor with the oddest numbering system in the world. The Capt’n tired to explain it to me as odd and even numbering. It made no sense. I think it was as drunk Messkin’, on a three legged donkey, using spray paint to number the slips any which way the donkey hobbled and gravity fell. Anyway, after wondering the dockets with my lovely bride, and being offered (or lease my bride was offered) passages on several yachts, we notice the high, and mighty Capt’n Blabby on the stern of the proud Lone Star; Ol’ Glory waiving in the wind to his right and the Texas Flag flying high above from the main mast spreader. Damn, you might have thought it was a movie set. How does Blabby pull this stuff off? So, much for my grand entrance.

At this point, we had to pay our tariff to board Lone Star: two liters of Captain Morgan, a spicy run named after Blabby’s hero. It was also at this point I realize I was Capt’n Blabby’s cargo mule. I had to give up my checked luggage to pack stuff Blabby needed: flags, lubricants, log books, parts and a case of Wolfe Brand Hot Dog Chili Sauce---damn if Blabby did not get to me again. I am telling ya, it is control issues.

After a quick and manly handshake Capt’n Blabby and I did what all good sailor men do, hug the ladies. Although, I do think the Capt’n spent a little too much time huggin’. I had warned Ms. P to do the sideways, one-arm, half-hug thing but, O’ no---she had to be cutzie and do the both arm full frontal hug thing. A mistake she will not repeat. After the greetings, an adult beverage or two (who counts such items?) were shared. J-J manufactured some sandwiches that were true nectar to the hungry crew. A tour of the yacht was conducted, with me constantly wiping drool from my chin. This was the first time my feet had stepped on such a fine sailing ship—this was a long way from Lake Somerville. Ms. P and I stowed our gear and we settled in for the best customized cruise and personalized tour anyone could dream.

The ACI Dubrovnik Marina, where the Lone Star was berthed and we began this adventure, was very impressive. Check out the pheasant and the gardens located on the grounds: I enjoyed sitting on the deck and admiring the picturesque church across the marina: According to Cruise Director J-J, a must sight to do and see was the Old Wall of the old City of Dubrovnik. We waited till the cool of the afternoon and began the tour: With her usual good planning, J-J pre-purchased vouchers for the bus which we rode into the heart of Dubrovnik and the old town. As we departed the bus, I saw a city fountain. I had read about these and was excited to have the opportunity to drink the sweet, cool water from these old fountains. Maybe I am as simple as the ol’ Capt’n claims as these fountains were one of many highlights on this voyage. After enjoying the drink, filling my water bottle, we began the hike of the City Walls, with whom else but, our faithful Cruise Director J-J leading the way:

Capt’n Blabby taking a breather and Stick waiting with him so, as not to made his good buddy look bad. As usual our Cruise Director is up head, setting the pace:

A view of the Main Street, Old Duvronik from atop the wall, really just another exucse of Blabby to take a break, stop, frame a shot, shot, check the photo, re-frame, re-shoot, come on Blabby, we gotta get going: A view back to Duvronik from the Wall: We re talking success now, Ms. P, Stick and Blabby atop the Wall: One think about Wall hiking and then searching for a Post Office to mail Post Cards to my kids and photographs to J-J’s Mom, you build up a mighty thirst. This is one point, where Capt’n Blabby excells. He takes care of the needs of his crew. We wondered down several alleys and found a nice little café to enjoy a grog. OK, it may have been two grogs, again who keeps count of such things except the bartender.

Somehow, we boarded the correct bus and arrived back at the Marina. A good meal, a couple of toddies and we had a grand start for the Reunion Voyage.




Dan Dva: Dubrovnik to LOPUD, on the Island of Lopud

The bride and I arose to a bright day at 4:00 a.m. Man, it gets bright early in Croatia. No problem, more time to enjoy the day. Right! We slid the hatch blind shut and went back to sleep. Let the early bird have the worm. We enjoyed the sweet sleep of early morn.

When we did roll out of the rack, J-J and prepared a continental breakfast. The jams and jellies and the butter seem so much sweeter in this part of the World. Ms. P lived in Holland as a child and had been telling me of the breads and jams and butter how good they were. Well, J-J’s spread exceeded my taste bud’s expectations.

After breakfast, the Capt’n stated, we need to buy four potatoes before we leave. I asked why and was told for supper. I may be simple but, why four only? I am thinking control issues again. Well, we set off on foot to find potatoes. We find them everywhere and in sealed bags of 20 or more. And we keep looking for four individual potatoes. At this point, I know Blabby is toying with me. Anyway, after much discussion, debate and frustration, we finally come to the bottom line: are we sailors or potatoes hunters? We choose to purchase the sealed bag full of spuds, thinking this would validate we were sailors.

With spuds in hand, we are at last ready to sail the Adriatic Sea. Here is the workhorse, Ol’ Stick stowing the bumpers. The Lone Star being under the able command of J-J at this time. Who knows where the Capt’n is. Stick and Ms. P styling on the foredeck as we head out of town: We left the Port of Dubrovnik, passing under its new and impressive bridge: The unique thing about this bridge was only one support tower. You see it in the picture. Usually you see another tower at the other side of the bridge. Here they decided to just use one and I guess the span was short enough that one support tower was it required. Two may have been more balanced artistically but, not necessary.

The voyage to Lopud was a bit bumpy. Seas were running about 3 to 5 feet. We had to motor most of the way as we headed directly into the wind. Being her first sail, Ms. P was a bit green around the gills and toughed it out. Taking the helm seems to help with the off colored gills. Her smile returned—kinda… Our first approach to the Island of Lopud was on its southern shore. An inlet with a restaurant claiming to serve the best hamburgers in Croatia. That claim was enough for us to consider it as an anchorage.

With the wind blowing directly into this inlet, it was rough. As we were approaching, Chief Nava-guessor J-J (she wears many hats) smartly rerouted the Lone Star to the island’s north shore and the town of Lopud. I guess being the only town on the island; it shares the name of the island. As we came around the island, and saw the inlet and town of Lopud, there was a WOW factor. The setting was post card picture perfect. It was my mental image of Croatian island village. The buildings with the matching reddish-orange tile roofs, a church perched on the point, a small harbor and cafes along the coast line.

Approaching to anchor, there were two boats in the bay. One to the port side and one on the starboard. The one on the port side was manned by Lee and Judy, ol’ friends of Blabby and J-J. The to starboard, radioed us and commented he could not anchor because of the seaweed. I think he just want to anchor closer to us to check out our hot chicks. Why else did they have binoculars pointed towards our female crew? Thankfully, Capt’n Blabby was properly trained by the Lake Somerville crew knew how to handle the anchorage. He turned the helm over to J-J and proceeded to the foredeck, found us a sandy spot and in dropped the hook. The poor saps, who said too many weeds to anchor, were not only embarrassed by our successful hook, they realized they were no match for the hardy Capt’n Blabby and Stick. Thankfully, they had some pride and kept trying till they too hooked their anchor to the bottom.

After anchoring, we were introduced to one of the best traditions of Lone Star. The toasting of a successful anchorage or docking. This is a tradition that requires the use of fine crystal tumblers awarded to Lone Star upon her christening. The tumblers being chilled and then filled will cold beer. If a good anchorage only one beer is consumed in the toast. If a bad anchorage, two or more grogs are consumed.

The tumbler with wine is Ms. P. We thought about complaining that that was not the tradition but, we quickly realized that left more beer for us.

Well, we had our toast and then Capt’n Blabby looks around and complains I used knot securing the dingy was not as tight as it should be. As Capt’n, he immediately declares it a bad anchorage and another beer is consumed. Then as fate would have, the ol’ eagle-eyed Capt’n notices why he claims is another improper knot tied by Stick----a bad anchorage declared---- another beer is consumed. After this beer, I decided, I best go swimming. I am tried of being the whipping-boy.

I have swum in clear blue waters. This was different. Usually, as I stand on the shore or on the deck of a boat, the water looks blue and clear. When I jump in and look down at my feet, I see clear but, no blue. In the Adriatic Sea, it was different. I saw clear and BLUE to my feet. It is the most beautiful blue, clear water I have seen.

Upon boarding the boat after my refreshing dip, I heard our able Capt’n trying to impress the ladies by is knowledge of the trees on the island. He pointed out some Palms being as largest in Croatia. Check out the photo and you see they are almost as tall as the Church steeple. Lopud could be my favorite island. It has two scars. One old and one new. Neither fit the island and both distract from the island.

The new scar is a goofy looking modern hotel. It is a sore thumb. It’s architecture does not fit I with the environment or other structures. Hopefully, it will be the only such sore thumb on the island. The old scar is the old commie hotel/resort on the island. This is an artifact left from the days when Croatia was under commie control. It is dark, dungy concrete and so ugly, my camera refused to take its picture. Thankfully, overgrown vegetation covered much of this relic.

We boarded the dingy and headed ashore docking the dingy at the town harbor: Just as we docked we noticed a fruit and vegetable stand. And what did this stand have, the mighty potato. And they could be purchased individually. Now, what are the odds? A little island and it had the potatoes the way the Capt’n wanted them, sold individually. Remember, I told you I thought Blabby was toying with us about potatoes in Dubrovnik, well this validated it. Man, you gotta be on your toes around this guy.

We checked out the Churches on the island. Each unique and impressive. We verified the palm trees were tall. And we happened upon some huge pine trees. They had a beautiful canopy. It was a surprise find and wowed each of us. Here is J-J holding up the tree: We met a couple of good Ags on the beach, visited with them awhile. Strolled along till we found some pizza and gelato. The café was overlooking the bay. And it seems good opportunity to photograph our most gracious hosts: Then, we headed back to the boat, stopping by Lee and Judy’s to invite them for sundowners. An offer they could not refuse.

We concluded the day with the sundowner party, steak and the every-so-hard to find potatoes. We were serenaded by the Church bells every hour and it became a rhythm and comforting sound we welcomed. All Day One set a mark so high; I figured the rest of the trip might be downhill. Lopud was a beautiful, relaxing, a dream-come-true place.

Dan Tri: Lopud to POLACE, on the Island of Mljet

Before we left the Island of Lopud, we witnessed a little of the real world in paradise---garbage disposal, island style. We watched people bringing refuge containment devices (trash cans) to the docks. They just lined them up and left. And before long, here came the garbage truck---again, island style. The truck is parked on a barge, traveling to each of the islands to gather their refuge. The barge docks, the men on the barge start dumping the contents of the refuge containment devices in the garbage truck. Not sure why fascinated me but, it may provide another reason why it took Capt’n Blabby so long to agree to the Reunion Voyage: Stick being fascinated by water fountains and refuge collection.

So, now we are off to find the Island of Mljet. We motored most of the way making it an easy and enjoyable ride. Our goal was the town of Polace, located in a long inlet in the Island of Mljet. You can kinda see the approach in the photograph below:

Arriving in Polace, our able Cruise Director and Capt’n elected to dock at a restaurant. If you eat at the restaurant, docking is free. Seems like a good deal, you gotta eat. They choose the Calypso. Not sure why but, it may have to do with they had the most flags flying. The Island of Mljet is home to Mljet National Park and two inland salt lakes. The lakes are fed by the sea through a natural canal and somehow qualify as lakes. Where the canal connects to the sea, is one of the few reefs in Croatia. We took a van up; yes we went up in altitude to these lakes, a real weird experience. And the ride was through pines and other trees and it felt like a national park in the Rocky Mountains of the US of A. Seems out of place and it was a sight to behold.

Within one of the lakes we rode up to, is an island that houses a former Benedictine monastery built in the 12th century. We took a little skiff ride to Islet Marija in the middle of Lake Veliko Jezero. I am the cute on one the left in the photo below. The procedure on arrival to the islet is to hike the island, take a swim and then consume beer at the once former monastery, now beer dispensary.

Along the hike we found some “modern day” art and of course Blabby and his female side-kicks had to be cute. The boy is always doing something to steal the show and put smiles on the ladies’ faces. The islet had several beautiful views. It seemed odd to be on an island within an island and here we were. I got a kick out of it.

Along the trail around the island were several small chapels. Capt’n Blabby stopped at each one and prayed that this hike would end quickly. He had his focus on the beer dispensary.
The ol’ Capt’n’s prayers were answered; we wondered and stumbled until the trail ended at the one and only beer dispensary on the Islet of Marija.

After reviving his crew with liquid refreshment, Capt’n Blabby led his motley mob back to the town of Polace. Cruse Director J-J had spotted a sign reading “Homemade Wine” outside of a rock building in Polace just before our departure for the lakes. The Capt’n remembered the find and he was on a crusade to explore a tavern that advertised homemade wine.

I have heard of homemade wine, even made a little but, never had I seen it advertised as a homemade wine. Somehow wine sparks an affluence that requires a sign with the term vineyard, not homemade wine. Anyway, my interest was sparked and I followed the able Capt’n. And the rewards of a successful crusade----sampling homemade wine:

After sampling the homemade wine and schnapps, we made a purchase. At this time “homemade” was the correct term. The tavern host, grabbed a liter glass bottle from the shelf. He proceeded to the vat in the photo above and filled the bottle with the nectar of the vine. He then pulled a cork from his pocket and pushed it in the top f the bottle, half in and half out. Easy to open that way, he said.

With our prize in had, we strolled back towards the Lone Star checking the sights along the way. DSCN0100 Any this little island had one more surprise sign: Aloha. Gotta love Croatia.

They have a sense of humor. Before boarding the boat, we stopped by to visit with the Calypso’s renowned chef and ordered the traditional “lamb cooked under a bell” for our evening meal. The crew cleaned up for their evening meal at the Calypso.

Time spent at the Calypso will earn a special place in the Voyages of Capt’n Blabby and Stick. This is where their new handles were acquired. Our waitress was a dark-haired Croatian girl that was the spitting image of Natasha of Boris and Natasha on the Rocky and Bullwinkle Cartoon Show. And, not only did she look like Natasha, her voice and accent was Natasha of Bullwinkle fame. Unbelievable, here on this small island; crazy signs and a real life character out of a cartoon.

Anyway, we had a great meal and as usual, Natasha, like all ladies, took to Capt’n Blabby. They talked on and on during the meal. I don’t think she wanted us to leave. We were finished eating and Natasha brought us licorice liquor as an after dinner drink---her gift to us. It was something really special to her. And I can only assume she drank it regularly and that is what gave her voice its raspy sound. That was some of the most varnish-tasting stuff to trespass my palate. We all sipped, pinching our noses and gagging but, we finished the darn stuff to be polite. Guess what? She brought us seconds---anything to keep her Blabby around and talking to her. Well, it was the kiss of death, we could not finish it so, and we high tailed it to the safety of Lone Star and hid below deck.

Dan Cetiri: Polace to KORCULA, on the Island of Korcula

The next morning, as the Capt’n and I stayed below deck and hidden from Natasha, our ladies went to town, found a bakery and delivered us pastries fit for a king. Gotta admit, the ol’ Capt’n and I like to be treated well by the ladies.

Anyway, the time came, we had to get going. I stuck my head out of a hatch. And the coast seemed clear of Natasha. So, I took the contents of our refuge containment device and dumped them in the larger refuge containment devise at the Calypso. Well, low and behold, I was spotted by Natasha. She cornered me and questioned me about not drinking the second helping of licorice varnish. It was just like in the cartoons when Boris and Natasha are questioning their victim. Well, ol’ Stick, he did not crack under the pressure. He defended his fellow crew and stated they had already consumed there previously agreed to limit of alcohol and had they consumed the second grand and wonderful gift, they would have been severely punished by their captain.

I am not sure she bought the story but, I added we had some gifts for her in our appreciation of her gifts. She had heard us playing Norah Jones music and she had commented on how she liked Norah Jones. Well, Stick in his usual wise manner offered her a Norah Jones CD. Natasha being well trained by Boris and Bullwinkle negotiated for the Norah Jones CD and an ABBA CD. Who was I to argue with a Natasha? So, I return to Lone Star. I quickly procured the CD’s and delivered them to Natasha as evidenced by the photograph. The things I do to protect my fellow shipmates. Anyway, after the peace offering is made, Natasha waves and christens our Capt’n as “Blabby” and as we depart the dock she orders Capt’n Blabby and Stick to “loves your womens”.

Simply put, the acquiring of nick names and learning new phrases, well, that is a sign of a successful island visit. Of course, the “loves your womens” phrase has me in the dog house with my bride as she said ‘womens’ is plural. My argument is Natasha used poor grammar. My wife responds with, like Stick is one to judge another’s grammar. O’ well, life goes on. Onward to Korcula!

The Capt’n and I gotta get outta this port.

The voyage to Korcula was a day of sailing and motoring. Again beautiful sights and water the entire way. I never grow tired of the walled villages of Croatia. And thankfully, Korcula was another one of the walled towns. The harbor where we docket was to the left of this photograph. Blabby and I took naps during the heat of this day. The ladies went to town and toured on their own. And during this tour they found three, yes count them, three bottles of Captain Morgan’s Spiced Run. So, my dear readers do not be tricked into bring the treasured spice rum thinking Blabby is not able to purchase any on these backwater islands. It is available. He is just working your sympathy. Bring the treasured rum because you are a good, kind person and giving a gift of love and appreciation and not out of compassion for a man unable to find his favorite nectar.

I appreciated how this wall was long the shore line and a few feet above sea level. The other Walls we visited seem to be perched upon cliffs high above the sea requiring a long and hard stair climb. The city planned or developed properly and the wall was now a main walking street lined with cafes. One of which would serve our supper later that night.

And for some reason, maybe history I do not know, there is the Marco Polo Throne mounted on this walkway. Well, that was too much of a temptation for Capt’n Blabby. He immediately took command of the situation, seized possession of the Throne and parked his high and mighty Capt’n buttocks upon his newly claimed prize. Get command of a boat and claim the whole world. That’s the vision of our captain.

Blabby and I spent much of the afternoon sleeping. Sailboat cruisin’ is a tough life for you uninitiated. When were not sleeping, we watch the sailing schools crash their boats into the dock trying to teach their young charges how to dock. Their docking was so poor, they had to pass up grog and go straight to the hard-stuff to celebrate any docking they did finally accomplish.

Dan Pet: Korcula to SUCURAJ, on the Island of Hvar

We awoke this day to more pastries the ladies purchased in town. They found “hogs in a bedroll”. Similar to pigs in a blanket, only bigger. More like a hot dog and bun, and the bun is not sliced on the side. Well, the Blabby and I do like such food, and we do favor hot dogs, so we cue a slit in the bun. Now it was a hot dog. A squirt or two of mustard, we had breakfast dogs; the way every hardy sailor man should start his day.

Again, this was a day of sailing and motoring. Motoring may have won with the most time propelling Lone Star. The harbor into Sucuraj, it was a fun one. First, I still cannot get use to the green buoy being on the right when entering a harbor. Exactly opposite of Texas and Lake Somerville. And second, we had to dodge the ferry. It seemed the only purpose of this town was to maintain a ferry landing. And the ferry felt the need to dock regularly, often and loudly.

So, we dodged the ferry and put the green to our right and entered this marina sharing dock space with the ferry landing. The show here being the harbor master, a lady that could grab a monkey’s fist, tow a three inch line, wrap the clew and secure the boat to dock with one hand and two breaths of air. It was impressive. And if her physical talents were not enough to demand your attention and validate her command, her stature and voice did.

Needless to say, Blabby and I followed her every command. We had had enough women problems in a prior port of call, we did not need to start a trend. Sucuraj seemed undeveloped and kinda lost but, it did have its picturesque side as a sleeping fishing village, invaded by a ferry boat.

One of Sucuraj’s own had recently completed his earthly walk and his funeral was being held the day we arrived. The scene was similar to the movies of funerals in the fishing villages in this part of the world. A very respectful gathering of friends and family gathering and walking through the town to the cemetery. All the shops and cafes closed for the funeral and then reopened afterwards.

One piece of equipment we spotted on each of the island was the “semi-mule”. Not sure what it is really called. But, the roads and village cobblestone walkways are too narrow for semi-trucks. So, enter the semi-mule to haul and pull every type of wagon imaginable. In Sucuraj, the Capt’n and I checked out the semi-mule. I can testify from first-hand knowledge, this thing is held together with bailing wire and prayers.

One thing I enjoyed in each of the villages was the hourly bells of the churches. It was the same here. And there was the noisy ferry to make us appreciate the bells more. Thankfully, the ferry docked for the night at midnight.

Dan Sest: Sucuraj to HVAR, on the Island of Hvar

We woke early and left dock just after 5:00 a.m. We need to arrive in Hvar early in the day. Dock space was first come first serve. And Hvar was popular as the combined Mote Carlo—Rivera of Croatia. So, off we headed just prior to sunrise: OK, Hvar lived up to its billing. The place was rocking and rolling—in more ways than one. The harbor water was full of wave action—a real washing machine effect. We thought the wave action was from all the boat traffic. We were told it was from the current.

Anyway we docked along this main walk in town. We were in the center of it all. Hvar like so many of the towns also claimed a fort or walled city perched high atop a hill overlooking the harbor. Well of course, we had to high up three, 208 stairs, and ½ mile of inclines, to reach the fort. And the views alone were worth it.

We also made a tour of the town and enjoyed a great piazza:

The docking at Hvar was tight to say the least. Most of those docking knew what they were doing. Anyway, the close quarters and all the large boats added to the setting:

Then there are the Krauts. For some unknown reason, they were docked on our port side. They needed to lower a jet ski and thankfully Blabby and I were there to assist. We got the jet ski in the water without harm or damage to any one. And the jet ski story does not end. There is more to it. I had a little free time so, I went walking around to see the town. As fate would have it, the Krauts returned from their jet ski ride. They now want to lift the boat back on board. A big mistake! As they begin lifting, the jet ski slips and crashes to the water, just missing the Lone Star.

In our journeys through the cobble stone walks of Hvar we came across this sundial built on the side of a building. It too was on of those simple things that fascinate ol’ Stick.

Being the big city and cultural town, Cruise Director J-J directed us to an evening meal at a romantic roof top restaurant. And once again, the crew cleans-up well:

After dinner we strolled to the Church in the photograph below for a folk song concert. This may have been Capt’n Blabby’s favorite event of the trip. I encourage each of you to not only invite but, take the good Capt’n to folk song concerts. The Capt’n was so moved by this event, he had to take our picture.

After the concert, a stroll along the harbor and a cone of gelato, we board the Lone Star for a night of good rest. But, our neighbors to port, the Krauts, they have other plans. The loud play of lousy music, accompanied by even louder voices above the “music”.

Dan Sedam: Hvar to TROGIR, on mainland Croatia

We arose for the last day of sailing, to be greeted by J-J and Ms. P who once again headed to a bakery and fetched us the pastries fit for royalty and the awesome “hog in the blanket”. Thankfully our neighbors were passed-out asleep. We visited with a Croatian boat to our starboard and watched a religious procession for one of the Saints. A great day to begin our last day of sailing. And this was our best day of sailing.

The wind was 12 to 15 knots; we sailed along an island which allowed a smooth sail of 8.5 knots to Trogir. It was a perfect day of sailing. So, much so, I hogged the wheel. Well, I sat at the helm and looked cool as auto pilot actually steered. I guess ol’ Stick had become a modern day sailor man. We arrived in Trogir and guess what, there was another fort. Not as impressive as the others but, they did have a fort. We docked at the marina, celebrated our last good docking the traditional way with one grog and the Capt’n finding faults in my seamanship and declaring more grog for the crew.

Trogir also had a walk along the harbor. We strolled the walk and checked out the town with the reality that this was the last night of a great trip. This just about concludes our tour, we spent the night on Lone Star, arose one again to our ladies bringing us fresh pastries and also J-J bringing three more bottles of the hard to find, Captain Morgan Rum. It is everywhere.

I wrote little about sailing because as Capt’n Blabby says, cruising’ in 98 percent boredom and 2 percent terror. I am glad we did not experience the terror. And I can also say, we did not experience any boredom. It was excitement from beginning to end. Ms. P and I had a great time. It exceeded our dreams, our expectations. Our friendship and Blabby and J-J’s graciousness made this a life time happy memory. Thanks!

Respectfully submitted,

Stick

P.S. Vote Stick for Year Book Editor of the Lone Star. He needs another cruise.