admin Date , Monday April 20 , 2026
I was awake quite early at around 7am, sitting on the quayside writing the blog after making a visit to the shore facilities — far roomier and considerably more civilised than the tiny “head” on the yacht. In fact, I even took the camera into the gents to record the instructional sign explaining the correct use of the loo brush. Clearly, marina management had seen things… terrible things.
Emily, having sensibly retired early the previous evening, was still fast asleep, so I slipped quietly off the boat to avoid disturbing her. Around the marina, several other crews were already stirring into life. The early morning sunshine suggested another fine Croatian day ahead, and all the weather apps I was obsessively checking — including Orca — indicated that the wind would strengthen later.
Tadek appeared shortly afterwards asking about shopping
arrangements. Sunsail supplied breakfast and lunch provisions, and we still had
plenty of reasonably fresh bread left alongside our now-famous Lidl strawberry
jam. Tadek supplied fresh /chocolate Croissants.
John soon returned from the shore facilities and joined me
studying the weather forecasts. Today was his navigation day as part of the Day
Skipper course. The previous evening he had carefully planned our route from
Maslinica on the island of Šolta to Stari Grad on the island of Hvar — a
journey of around 23 nautical miles.
Although modern sailing relies heavily on chart plotters and
apps, the RYA still insists that students learn proper traditional navigation.
John had spent considerable time plotting bearings, calculating course changes,
and preparing waypoints the old-fashioned way using charts and navigation tools
rather than simply pressing buttons on an iPad.
Before departure, Tadek and I walked to the marina office where I paid the €100 mooring fee for the night. It felt rather expensive for what amounted to a few hours tied to a wall — although we would later discover that this was far from the most expensive overnight stop of the trip.
Steve arrived in their dinghy and chatted with Tadek about the plans for the day and where we intended to sail. Their crew aboard Sailing Fair Isle were filming their own adventure, so there was plenty of swapping information between boats.
Before John could put his carefully prepared navigation plan
into action, Tadek had other ideas.
At around 9:30am, after breakfast and with everyone properly
fuelled, we prepared to leave the harbour. I released the lazy lines while John
took the helm. One by one we cast off the stern lines and motored slowly out
into open water.
Then the real training began.
Each of us took turns at the helm practising turning
manoeuvres using only the engine and no sails. We selected headings and then
imagined turning either 90 degrees to port or starboard. Sometimes we practised
rapid turns using full lock on the wheel before straightening up just before
the desired heading. Other times we simulated slower, more controlled gybes.
After plenty of forward manoeuvres came reverse steering.
Steering a yacht backwards is an experience somewhere
between driving a supermarket trolley with a wonky wheel and attempting to
reverse a caravan blindfolded. We tried, standing sitting, facing the wrong way
all in order to gain better control.
We practised steering astern along imaginary courses and
learning how to stop the yacht accurately. I discovered that sometimes standing
on what felt like entirely the wrong side of the wheel actually gave better
control. Whilst I did my go Steve in a dinghy was zipping around our boat
filming.
Tadek also taught us how to tell if the boat was truly
stationary. The trick was to line up a nearby object with something distant
ashore. If they stayed aligned, the boat was stopped. We could also study
bubbles moving past the stern. At the time this all seemed slightly obsessive,
but later we discovered exactly why these skills mattered.
Now reasonably competent at stopping and steering —
including my wife and Emily — we returned to the harbour wall to practise
stern-to mooring.
We approached the harbour at 90 degrees before reversing
carefully towards the wall, aiming for bollards while another training yacht
from a different company practised exactly the same manoeuvre nearby.
A short burst of reverse power stopped the boat neatly
alongside, ready for lines to be thrown ashore.
John practised repeatedly until he could complete the
manoeuvre confidently. Emily then had several turns before John returned for a
few extra attempts just to make absolutely certain he had mastered it.
Being taught and practising stern mooring at a harbour in Croatia as my wife an I did the competent crew course with Sunsail. Here Emily who is revising her Day skipper course and John her Dad take the boat in stern first on their first attempts.
Once manoeuvres were complete, we contacted the Sailing
Fair Isle crew to let them know we were finally underway.
Out came the hand-bearing compass. In turn we all took
bearings while John adjusted the course according to his planned route.
Then came the call everyone enjoys hearing:
“Let’s get the sails up.”
John organised the crew efficiently.
Ros released the kicker. Emily moved to the mast and began
hoisting the mainsail by hand while I hauled in slack from the cockpit. Once
the sail became too heavy to raise manually, I switched to the electric winch
to complete the final few metres.
We tightened the kicker, adjusted the topping lift, and then
turned our attention to the jib.
Since I was already at the winch, I unloaded the halyard
neatly before feeding the furling line onto the drum – this was four times
around the drum because the rope was thinner and then into the teeth at the top
and beginning to unfurl the jib while Ros controlled the working sheet on the
opposite side to keep tension on the sail.
Then the engine went off.
Suddenly everything changed.
The noise disappeared.
The yacht became calm and peaceful.
All we could hear was the hiss of water beneath the bow and the wind whistling
gently through the sails.
It was magical.
John, now fully in skipper mode, called out landmarks and bearings from the chart while we checked headings and adjusted course towards Hvar. With the yacht settled on course and little immediate work required, Tadek decided it was time for knot practice.
The Competent Crew course involves learning an alarming
number of knots.
We practised:
We sat there tying and untying ropes repeatedly while the yacht surged steadily onwards across the Adriatic.
Unlike river sailing on the Thames — where we might tack
every 20 or 30 seconds — the yacht remained on the same tack for well over an
hour. Once the sails were properly trimmed, all we really needed to do was
monitor the tell-tails, something I was becoming surprisingly good at.
Lunch was assembled from the remaining bread supplies.
I produced my now-traditional “half-a-loaf” tuna and lettuce
roll while Ros opted for ham and cheese. The others preferred paprika crisps,
fruit, and energy drinks.
Tadek continually reminded everyone to drink plenty of
water, something that becomes surprisingly important when spending hours in the
sun and wind.
