Dickens wrote “it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness”….could one be in the age of such opposites in just two weeks?

Yes. Da. Vai.

Who could resist being on the open seas…fresh living, using the wind to go from location to location, the European sun and great company of like minded sailors…reminding me everything was right with the world.

I wish.

Split I did, straight to Split (with Dad jokes like this there must be a child somewhere?!) a busy port at the top end of Croatia, to join a yacht sailing to Dubrovnik.  A close mate described the thought of sailing with people you don’t know as foolish…how I scoffed…how lacking in wisdom I was.

I would end up comparing the trip to Apocalypse Now, which was adapted from the classic novel Heart of Darkness. The movie follows a crew on a boat in search of a general gone mad.  As we sailed over the days we didn’t find the general, but did face moments of darkness and plenty of madness.

Let me introduce the ‘crew’:

* Two coal miners from South Australia who looked like professional body builders.  They would eat fish, chicken, steak, and pizza for each meal…we named them Surf & Turf.  Turf would sleep all day in the saloon area surrounded by clothes, making this space unusable and carrying an aroma of…well…turf.  He would occasionally move his clothes, but only some, and to the outside boat safety lines and leave them there…people couldn’t understand what the bright yellow Bonds underwear represented…Down-Under perhaps?

* A 25 year old Scotsman who worked for a bank and would sing every song, comment on every moment, and dance to everything…really a sixteen year old girl stuck inside a man’s body…we named him ‘Subtitles’.  He washed up with a cake of soap from the shower – I lost weight.  At least Scotland’s financial future will be in clean hands.

* A recently married couple…he was in IT and a nice guy, she was an Aussie English teacher who made me concerned for the future of Australia.  Every third word she used was jerk, f&$k, s@#t etc.  I named them ‘The Twits’ after their love of Roald Dahl;

* An ER doctor from the US who must have thought he was still in the ER with the weird health regime.  He was ‘House’, a great gent;

* I was ‘Sailor Jerry’ after my love of sailing and the rum…which was needed to get through the days.

Finally, the ‘skipper’:

He was named ‘Skip’, not so much an abbreviation of Skipper, more so that we skipped any sailing (four hours from seven days).  Skip, because of the snoring, didn’t notice the mixed water in the bilge (at least ten litres) for days, then used the cooking pots and pans to try to get it out as the bilge pump was broken (not a great situation and only discovered on the last day).  He forgot about the manual bilge pump until pointed out by another skipper when the water kept returning.  This water turned out to be the cause of the smell – sorry Turf…

I named the boat ‘Oar-Full’.

We left Split to Havr and managed to find an amazing wine – Zlatan Plavac on the first day, before heading to Vis which was like a schoolies yacht week (that went for a month?!) for twenty year old sailors…I was ‘ghost who walked’ to them.  The saving grace was lamb in a bell (cooked over a fire) in the middle of a vineyard – ‘Konoba Magic’ indeed.

Korcula was stunning with a bar at the top of the fort to watch the sunset from, but we paid for our drinks with a rough trip to Sipan the next day.  Dubrovnik made the whole journey worth it…the old town is a pearl encased in sandstone, an unexpected delight to discover.  I found a bar on the side of a cliff and watched lightening at night break over the water as ‘It’s A Wonderful World’ played…never was a song more true…Dickens words are perhaps more artful “a multitude of people, yet solitude”.

Leaving Croatia behind like a repressed memory I flew to Skiathos in Greece to sail on the Anna Maria around the Sporades Islands.

This tale takes a turn for the better here…my love of sailing having almost been lost at sea, was rescued by a great skipper named Rob and a stunning yacht…um, ok, one has to admit the four beautiful ladies who were on the cruise may have played a part too.

We left Skiathos and sailed to Nea Kilma where a line was dropped in the water while reversing into the Marina, with the wind blowing us onto the beach (50 metres away) it was anchor down and immediately SOB – Skipper Over Board – as he swam under the boat to untangle the line from the propeller.  It was well handled by Rob within a few minutes, with the four Sirens cunning attempt to wash us onto shore failing.

Patitiri was next and off the grid we went…with only a few boats in each bay….in Greece…in July!  The food at the top of the mountain was good, but beaten by the stunning views.  We did, however, get indigestion on the way down as we came across a group of old British rockers who woke the town up each night playing covers for free…it was a travesty that awoke Zeus to rain upon us the next day. Rightly so, but I think they played on.

Skopelos was next, the town was an amphitheatre to the ocean, inviting and relaxing at the same time.  We found a dream-like Greek bar with warm candles imbedded in the walls, under-lit flower beds, Greek Jazz music and white, white walls…a moussaka for your ears and eyes.  The next day was the pilgrimage to the Mamma Mia chapel with me as the guide and driver…we were safer on the water.

Steni Vala was a relaxing stop before anchoring off Koukounaries beach.  This is listed as one of the best sandy beaches in Greece, we agreed with endless swimming and drinks on the day beds.  We ate on the yacht for our final night with a single candle lighting us and thousands of stars lighting the night.  “Sadly, sadly, the sun rose” and we had to depart.

In life sometimes you forget how to smile. I am reminded how, and it could not be wiped from my face…wisely foolish.

Croatia Images

Sporades Images

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