Madame Geneva

I think the kids are having a slightly different experience than we are.  Upon leaving the church bell tower in Rab, with its myriad of steps, then ladders, to arrive at a view only afforded in most people’s imagination, Quinn asked Justin, “How many throws do you think it would take you to get a basketball in that trash can?”  Walking through these coastal medieval towns with their ancient walls and sacred churches, we are all awed at the magnitude of history.  Justin and I marvel at how the new simply comes out of the old, how the shelled-out buildings now house gardens or parking lots, how yesterday’s palace stands somehow muted next to the stark and barren communist apartment building.  But the kids have a fresher perspective, unmarred by the years of political transition and romantic nostalgia.  They want to know how big the fine is for graffiti.  Can you go to jail for that?  Have we ever been to jail? 

From the “moon”, we went deeper into the Kornati where the rocky surface transformed into a lush mountainous forest in the belly of the enveloping lakes of Otak Dugi.  We designed to launch the dinghy, well worn and often deflated as she carries out her swan song this season, and hike up to the sheer cliffs dropping into the Adriatic, but our little engine that could simply would not.  Justin bloodied his knuckles and offered up the necessary profanities and vulgarities, but nothing could convince our trusted two-stroke to keep an idle.  Later, in Zadar, we found out that without flushing the engine with a special cleaner, there was no chance we could have started her (somehow that was reassuring).  We dropped the mooring and motored back down through the Prolaz Proversa Mala.  Justin was making some soup, possibly watered-down dip—we are still working out the difference in language for sour cream vs cottage cheese let alone soup vs dip, when I called out from the helm.  “Um….I could use some help here.  This is like Croatian Hell’s Gate!”  Ships, boats, jet skis and swimmers flew through the narrowest of channels as the depth crept eerily shallow.   

We found ourselves just on the other side at a peaceful little bay, Uvala Cuscici.  A quick paddle brought us to shore for a hike, overlooking the inner lakes.  As we descended off trail, hopping from craggy rock to shards of stone, our view shifted to the many Croatian islands packed tightly and proudly in the cleanest and brightest blue sea.   

We headed to Zadar, city of many fortunes.  Remains of Neolithic settlements have been unearthed.  Liburnians, known as sailors and merchants, traded with the Greeks and Romans by the 7^th century BC and by the 2^nd century, the Romans thought, “Hmmm.  I want that,” and invaded.  And as Monty Python would say, “And what have the Romans ever done for us?”  For Zadar, it was the aqueduct, the plumbing, the hot air central heating, and the roads.  Remnants of the ruins decorate the parks.  The forum was used as the foundation for the cathedral.  The walls and arched gates stand strong and prominent.  These rules were followed by Ostrogoths, Avar and Slav tribes, and the Byzantines.  At last, Zadar was joined by treaty to Croatia in 1069, only to find itself often at war with the Venetians, the Hungarians, not to mention the Turks, the French and the Italians. Somehow through all this, the cultural and visual arts flourished.     

As we gathered knowledge of the impending changes to weather, we decided to travel quickly up the coast so that we could explore the northern region of Croatia before the winds picked up.  Whether by geography or seasonality, we have found a cool air in moving away from Zadar toward Rab.  The sea is flat and the wind is light.  In an area known for great winds once the pressure behind the mountains, abutting the sea, builds and sends the magnificent bora tunneling down the Velebitski Channel, we have arrived in time to enjoy the peace and beauty in settled anchorages.  Our anchor sinks delicately in the sands and we let out only 3 times.   

Our anchorage in Rab was truly stunning.  The only boat set across from the harbor alongside the breakwall, Madame Geneva gave home to gorgeous sunsets and easy nights.  We zipped about in our dinghy back and forth to town and walked the town, parks, and cemetery.  We swam in clear water and climbed rocks.   

Our anchorage in Uvala Zavratnica was nothing shy of harrowing.  Brought in by the park ranger who was disappointed we did not speak German, Justin squeezed into the narrow pass between towering cliffs into the fjord.  Through wild hand waving, we figured out we needed to drop our anchor and back into the rocky shore and secure a line to the bollard along a walled walkway.  The sea was still and so we didn’t overly stress that our anchor just lay on its side and our chain had barely a belly.  We certainly were not going to sleep like that.  That we knew.  A few hours of diving and swimming gave way to a few hours motor to Uvala Zabodarski, on the island of Losianj, for a restful night with only an occasional lulling swell of passing fishing boats.  We have long been out of water (truthfully we have water, we just can’t seem to get it) and so we are thick with salt and our dishes are piled (neatly) high.   

Sails up and motoring along, we are spending this morning traveling to the Isterian peninsula of mainland Europe, as far as we may go before we must turn around.  All are writing and reading as we cruise along further north than we have ever traveled on Madame Geneva.  At 44 degrees 42.718’ N, we are closer to the North Pole than Maine.  And the best part, we don’t have to play “lobster pot or seal?” 

Much love and stay tuned. 

I woke up during the gloaming before dawn to check the anchor and battery levels as I often do and stumbled up into the cockpit. As the haze cleared in my brain I panned our surroundings and remembered that we had somehow sailed Madame Geneva to the middle of a vast desert that had been flooded with sea water. The rock strata here go in all directions. Vertically, in large swooping arcs, occasionally disappearing beneath rubble and shrubs. The lines of the strata are intermittently interrupted by ancient rock walls or terraces. Who scratched out a life, and when or why, in this salty desert it is hard for me to imagine.

I looked off the transom through the aqua blue water with patches of seaweed in the sand 25 feet below and confirmed our holding was good. The batteries were a bit low but the sun would be up soon and our solar panels would pump them back to life. As I turned to go below and maybe sleep a bit longer a sheep bleated at top volume just 25 yards from our transom. If I had been wearing shoes I would’ve jumped out of them. The sheep and I nodded at one another and I went back to grab an extra hour of sleep while she did whatever a sheep living on the moon does.

Kelly and I enjoyed a pot of coffee in the cockpit and while the kids slept in we looked through the charts to see what was next in store for us here. Telascica park is a mere 19 miles up the chain. Sea cliffs, hiking trails, rugged lunar landscapes, sheep. We’re not traveling far today. We’ll choose an anchorage and swim. I promised to make bacon and eggs for lunch. Then we’ll launch the dinghy and set out on foot to see what it’s like hiking in the desert by the sea. Stay tuned. Stay healthy. Much love.

How do you get a family of five from Charleston, SC to Trogir, Croatia in the middle of a pandemic?  Slowly.  How do you get a US documented boat out of Croatia and back to Croatia, without creating an immigration fiasco?  Quickly.

We began our preparations to return to Madame Geneva earlier in the year, ahead of any knowledge of COVID-19.  At that time, we planned simply to do what we have done every year over the last six years.  Get back to our lady, wherever she may be, and set her up for passage in our continuing exploration of the world beyond our world.  Each year, that place changes.  Each year, we have the opportunity to educate ourselves and our children in a manner different.  This year, our plan seemingly failed as the world shut down and its people sought shelter in place.  We did what most did.  We stayed home.  We taught our kids.  We worked.  We hoped that yes, this too shall pass. 

Our April departure was cancelled, but the issue remained that Madame Geneva had to exit Europe before her temporary importation expired.  The fee for not complying is extraordinary.  Pandemic be damned.  We waited until we found an option:  Get a Rapid Test (must be PCR) within 48 hours of arriving in Croatia and the otherwise banned citizens of United Stated can travel to Croatia.  So we managed to secure appointments for those tests (thanks Wendy!) and crossed our fingers for our travel last Monday.  The tests were scheduled at 8:45am; the flights began at 8pm from Charleston for an arrival at 5pm in Croatia (26 hours after the test).  No problem, right? 

Enter Hurricane Isias.  Scheduled arrival in Charleston:  8pm Monday night.  Cancelling the flight or even delaying the travel a day were not really options…we would not be able to arrive in Croatia within 48 hours and arranging a rapid test required weeks of scheduling.  So we opted for a 1pm flight out of Charleston with an 8 hour layover in Atlanta.  Our harried departure from Charleston included getting tested, checking on work, grabbing a quick breakfast and waiting in the cell phone area of the airport to get our results (All Negative!). 

So through no small effort, we arrived in Split and loaded into a pitiful little rental car (little when you have 5 people, 7 large bags and 5 smallish backpacks).  Sleep deprived but truly grateful for our journey, we managed to track down our apartment, almost.  As we followed the directions on Google maps, we found ourselves in a cartoon where the walls of the streets narrow and the car does not.  I could not even turn in the passenger seat to advise how many centimeters we were from wedging ourselves between the Roman walls of the residences of Trogir.  Our rescue arrived by moped.  The kindness we experienced from the people of Trogir was incredible.  This man guided us back out of the alley and around to a much more accessible approach (where we met our landlord who guided us to park in the bombed out ancient building now turned into a parking lot). 

The week was spent readying Madame Geneva.  Sails and canvas, all down below, had to go back up into their proper place.  The dehumidifier buckets we kept around the boat did great, until one was knocked over and the oily gel of the captured humidity slide with impunity throughout the salon.   We scrubbed and washed, and scrubbed and washed.  And at last, by Monday we were ready to cast off and begin sailing. 

Our travels, by motor (Mediterranean is notorious for an “all or nothing” approach) took us to Primosten, an unnamed bay we called “Quinn’s bay” because Quinn found it, and Sibenik.  Importantly, we needed to do what we came to do:  Get here and leave and get back here. 

So today, we found ourselves clearing out of Croatia (both immigration and customs) but not able to go anywhere (lest we cannot get back in) in order to clear back in.  We docked at the concrete pier of customs and tied to broken cleats and a handrail so that Justin could run over and handle the paperwork.  His confusion of why the Italians told him to ‘go over the trains’ became clear when he realized he had to slip between the trains (functional and full of salt for transport) to get to the officials. 

So after tossing the lines at customs in Sibenik, we cruised past the quay, where we had spent the previous evening, past the cathedral with its intricately delicate baptism room and bullet riddled doors, past the submarine holes and pillboxes, and headed out to international waters, a line on a chart but not on the sea.  We plotted and tracked our course so we may show what we have been doing these last three hours since we left Croatia.  And with this, and the now very large folder of all of our clearances, we will arrive shortly back in Croatia and Madame Geneva will have another 18 months to enjoy Europe.  We, however, have just another five weeks. Much love and stay tuned.