Sunny afternoons and stormy nights

Welcome to June and already three months since we adopted a new member into the Darling family. How time flies when you’re having fun! Our last post came whilst berthed in ACI Split Marina with an important list of trade work to be completed by the wealth of riggers, sail makers, electricians and chandleries surrounding the marina. What followed was a mostly maintenance week, hopping over to nearby Solta Island killing a few days anchored in a uninhabited cove, where the men could drill and saw without bothering neighbours.

It’s popular here for yachts to tuck stern in into narrow bays and collect a mooring buoy or drop the anchor, next attaching lines ashore to limit any movement or swinging with the wind. What seemed like the perfect bay and weather conditions to test this out, we were soon tucked in close and tethered to the shore by long webbing straps. This first night was a restless one for me as I’m always overly cautious when overnighting in a new or potentially troublesome scenario. Though the boat stayed put and we didn’t ‘end up on the rocks’ as Mike teased the next morning. 

The following day was beautiful in our crystal clear bay. We finally had the time to pull out the dive gear, fill the tanks via our onboard compressor and plunge below the surface. An afternoon drink in a tavern perched high above the neighbouring bay was entertaining watching yacht after yacht enter and then haggled over via dinghy-bound representatives of the two resident restaurants (who manage the moorings). They were guided to their respective buoys in tight proximity to the next yacht and stern lines tethered ashore. Can you spot the tip of our mast in the top left of picture below?   

 

With dark clouds rolling in and scattered storms expected through the night, we were jolly and high spirited returning to our (forecast to be) protected neighbouring bay to prepare dinner onboard and chat about possible itineraries for the weeks ahead.  As mentioned, I stir often when uneasy about an anchorage or mooring – forgive me, I’m still adapting to this life strung to the weather! So I was up again just before midnight watching as a gale blew ahead of another storm front, coming from the exact direction that the bay would offer us no protection. Hitting almost direct on the starboard beam that couldn’t swing downwind on its anchor due to being tethered to the shore by stern lines.

My heart was in my throat when I realized we’d dragged anchor for the first time and in the tightest location to date, offering little room to respond. The boat was pushed sideways and far back into the bay and our portside bow was only metres from the high rocky shore. I was about to lose it. But thankfully always calm in a sticky situation, our skipper quickly had Mike out of bed and in the dinghy with a rope to pull the bow away from the rocks – Mike himself beating against wind and choppy seas. Dad could only idle the engines until we’d untethered and dumped the extremely long shorelines that we’d need to recover the next morning. With depth alarms sounding he couldn’t risk running the propellers until we could be dragged clear of hazards. We were forced to re-anchor in rain and darkness, further out in the larger bay and endure a rolly remainder of the night due wind swell entering. It was only a few hours later and I had everyone up again just as another strong front hit us from a different direction, filled with hail stones, slush and wind that again had the stern swung far too close to the rocks for comfort. Dad pulled in some chain to reduce our swinging circle and I spent the rest of the early morning curled up on the saloon couch with a half-open eye on the horizon. I counted no less than five different lightening storms pass that night (from three different directions), and that was just during the hours I was awake. Hard to portray feelings into words, but being that close to the rocks was a very tense scenario for us all… though the boat survived unscathed and we’ve learnt more valuable lessons through the experience.

 

The next day we moved onto a different bay on Solta Island. Shortly afterwards another Lagoon catamaran followed by a smaller monohull dropped anchor either side within barely a boat’s length of us when an entire bay was available to them. After a difficult night previously, we decided to up anchor and move away from both of them. As dad suggests of charter boats, their often limited experience, length of anchor chain to water depth/boat length ratio, and scant awareness of their swinging circle can be unnerving. That and the crews tend to be cracking beers before the wave ring from their anchor has dissipated! Though we are quickly coming to the realization this is the norm and as the busy charter season nears, we must accustom to neighourbouring boats sharing the bay and snuggling (sometimes uncomfortably) close for the night. As shown in the photo below – thankfully the winds were calm and we barely moved – but last night we shared this smallish bay on Vis Island with ELEVEN other boats!

In yet another night of unsettled weather – we were anchored among the Palenki Islands off famous Hvar Town. After a stunning afternoon lounging in the sun, the evening brought thick dark clouds, lightening to fill the sky illuminating everything around us like nature’s strobe light and deafening thunderclaps overhead that reverberated through the boat.  When the first storm front hit with sheets of rain and wind we kept a close eye on our position as boats swung around about us – pulling hard on their anchors and mooring bouys. Soon after, a small charter monohull followed by a motorboat carrying a young family that had anchored out in the channel both lost their hold and came drifting out of control past us, one of them far too close for comfort. Still thunderstorms on daybreak, we woke to see both us and the other catamaran on anchor had also wandered through the night. Awesome…

What an interesting few nights this past week has brought – of constant storm fronts, un-forecast wind directions and somewhat poor holding ground. Unfortunately the wind often swings all over the place – sometimes 270 degrees through the night – so when selecting a bay which you’d expect should provide a protected anchorage based on the wind forecast, it is often not the case.  For those of you interested, the weather websites we frequent (sadly they are often contradictory of each other) are www.windfinder.com, www.accuweather.com and www.passageweather.com.  If any sailing readers have found a more reliable source, we’d love to hear from you! 

 

During our recent four-night stay at Split’s central ACI Marina we were tipped off that the tendering process was still incomplete for management rights of the brand new, neighbouring quayside redevelopment. So when returning to Split for more trade work, we tied up a stone’s throw from the A$150 per night Split Marina in a prime freebie quayside berth.  Apart from boat maintenance and improvements (i.e.: “a boat is just a hole in the water to throw your money into”); marina and berthing fees have been our next biggest expenditure (even greater than fuel and food). So a few free nights when you need to be alongside somewhere is very welcome! This was our fourth (and second to last) visit to Split, a stunning historic yet cosmopolitan city that we would never grow tired of visiting.

   

Below is another collection of pictures including Mike kindly cleaning my fresh bought squid (which was actually octopus – I won’t live that one down), a magic anchorage in the Palenki Islands off Hvar Island (where again the weather turned sour a few hours later), quayside at trendy Hvar Town and elevated views over Hvar’s harbour from the old town sixteenth century fortress.  We have since jumped across to the incredible island of Vis – once the military hideout for Yugoslavia dictator Marshal Tito and island access only reopened to the public in 1989. But will leave that for another day. Until next time!