As the Croatians tell the story, the Greek hero Odysseus was shipwrecked and held captive on the Croatian island of Mljet. Visiting in May, I and six other sailors embraced the legend when our 54-foot yacht’s engine failed.
“Remember, Odysseus spent seven years in Mljet,” said Ivan Ljubovic, our captain. “We can do two nights.”
As things turned out, the clogged fuel filter that impeded our progress on a seven-night cruise from Split to Dubrovnik on a yacht — which the passengers helped sail — was a minor one. Although an engine, even on a sailboat, is vital for docking and keeping to schedules on calm days, most of my companions agreed that drifting into a village with Roman ruins in a turquoise bay was an acceptable fate.
I had resigned myself to what were, in my mind, worse annoyances when I signed up for the trip last November. Subsequently, tour operator G Adventures had sold several trips over the Black Friday weekend. Its best deals were off-season, which meant potentially chilly weather and closed restaurants and attractions. But leaving in late April for seven nights island hopping for about $1,300 — after a 30 percent discount — was too tempting to pass up.
My cousin Kim agreed and we made plans to pack rain gear and meet in Split to test the budget waters.
“Everything between them is an adventure”
Few things about the itinerary were published before departure and none of them were firm.
“Split and Dubrovnik fixed,” said the captain, who would pilot the ship alone and be our guide, on our first day. “Everything in between is an adventure.”
It started with Sauturnes, a beautiful Kufner yacht with four comfortable guest cabins, four economical bathrooms where the folding faucet doubled as a shower and a spacious galley. Our ‘crew’, a mix of Australians and Americans from 18 to 75 – all of whom had also jumped on the tender – spent most of their time on top of the boat, where foam mattresses beckoned for sunbathing and a cockpit canopy provided shade.
The weather, which turned out to be sunny and comfortably cool, was not our biggest concern. The G Adventures website had listed well-known islands, including beach Brac and Vis, which played a convincing Greek romance in the movie “Mamma Mia 2”. But since many places would be closed during the shoulder period, we would proceed, according to the captain, based on the dictates of the weather and conditions on shore.
Meals were not included, which meant finding open restaurants was critical. For breakfast and lunch on board, we spent 50 euros (about $54) each on shared groceries, which we shopped at local markets. In the evening, we would dine in restaurants. G Adventures advised budgeting $250 to $325 for the week, which was accurate, although we often consumed Croatian wine (a carafe of house red averaged $15).
Small ports
After the frenzy of grocery shopping and moving into the bunk cabin we shared with Kim, we experienced sailing Zen as the ship set sail on a sunny morning for the 43-mile Hvar, Croatia’s largest and supposedly sunniest island. .
Neighboring islands drifted as the wind shaped the sea with ripples and ruffles. A flock of shearwaters rose to eye level.
Within hours, the ridges of steep Hvar came into view, revealing fields of lavender and olive groves. Descending a long narrow inlet, we arrived at Stari Grad, a village of stone houses with terracotta tiles, as travelers have done since 384 BC, when Greek sailors from the island of Paros settled here.
Our mooring provided a front row view of the fishing boats and cafes that enliven the waterfront. Stari Grad’s attractions, including the Greek ruins of the Pharos and a 17th-century Venetian cathedral, were not yet open for the season, but we enjoyed exploring the narrow streets and deserted squares of the old quarter.
From the waterfront, a 20-minute aerobic hike up a steep hill crowned by a giant white cross offers views of Stari Grad and the plains beyond, a UNESCO World Heritage Site of fourth-century agricultural fields, with stone walls surrounding vines and olive groves.
That evening, we visited them to get to Konoba Kokot, a rural restaurant specializing in ‘peka’, a type of barbecue where meat is cooked under an iron lid filled with burning coals. The family that runs it opened the season of preparation by welcoming us with accompanying shots of raki, a local herbal drink. At a long table under an arbor, we ate homemade goat’s cheese, wild boar pate and, from the stove, roast lamb, veal and octopus with unlimited jugs of red and white wine for €35 a person.
Starry nights
Small ships are great at pulling into small ports, but a yacht trip is a bit like camping, starting most mornings with DIY instant coffee. The marinas offered free bathrooms with showers.
The cold temperatures apparently deterred the celebrity-filled mega yachts, which are known to dock in the town of Hvar on the south coast of Hvar Island. Our captain declared her the “Mykonos of Croatia” as we moved past the harbor filled with visitors carrying shopping bags and gelato cones.
With clear weather in the forecast, we anchored in an unexploited cove east of town. The anchorage belonged to the owners of the Moli Onte restaurant, who took us ashore in a motor boat, giving us enough time before dinner to visit the fortress above Hvar and drink an Ozujsko beer in St. Stephen’s Square, largest in the area. Dalmatia.
Back on board, with no artificial light to wash the night sky, we hit the top deck for stargazing. As my companions peeled off for bed, I grabbed a blanket and blanket and lay under the stars for the unfolding show, waking periodically to capture the drama of the moonrise, reflected in the still water.
Little Dubrovnik
Fingers of gray rock reached down to meet sloping vineyards along Hvar’s southern coast as we departed for its neighbor, Korcula. On our longest day of sailing, five hours, I welcomed the opportunity to play first mate, manning the lines on the mainsail.
To break up the trip, Captain Ljubovic headed to a quiet cove off the Peljesac Peninsula, where the Caribbean blue waters, cloudless skies and sandy bottom convinced us to jump in despite the numbing sea temperatures.
The 15th century walls surround the historic center of Korcula, giving it the nickname “Little Dubrovnik”. Beyond the stone gates carved with a winged lion representing the Venetian empire, which controlled much of the Adriatic after the 13th century, narrow alleys led to ornate churches and mansions. There was no better historical journey than getting lost in the web of pavements. Or so we told ourselves as we drove past the supposed home of Marco Polo, still closed pre-season.
Along the sea walls, restaurants served pizza and seafood under pine tree lights, and we caught the sunset from a former turret, now converted into Massimo Cocktail Bar, which requires patrons to climb a ladder to the roof, a warning for the second rounds.
The most romantic port of the trip was also the noisiest, at least in the marina, which hosted a Polish sailing regatta. When I headed for the showers at 6am the next morning, I found a group still happily dancing on top of a yacht filled with empty booze bottles and crushed crisps.
Marooned in Mljet
We left Korcula in strong 20 knot ‘jugo’ or southerly winds and Captain Ljubovic released the sails saying “You paid for a sailing holiday, not a motor boat”.
As we tacked back and forth towards Mljet, the boat turned a tight corner and we took photos of ocean spray.
In Mljet, where the western end of the island is home to the Mljet National Park, we hired bikes (€10) to take a lung-busting ride over the park’s mountainous spine. On the other hand, we cycled around a pair of inland lakes and took a boat ride to a 12th-century monastery built on an island on one of them (park entrance, €15).
Docked in the still sleepy town of Polace, we heard tales of high season, when up to 100 yachts moor in the bay and members of the band U2 were once seen cycling through the park. After a short shower, the city sparkled at sunset and the Stella Maris restaurant welcomed us with grilled sea bass (25 euros) and shrimps (20 euros).
“I’m so glad I chose this time because I don’t do a lot of people,” said my partner Nova Hey, 46, from Sydney, who was traveling with her 18-year-old daughter.
In the morning, I had the trail to the top of Montokuc to myself. The approximately three mile round trip hike reached one of the highest points on the island, a rocky knob with stunning views shared by a family of feral goats.
Shortly after, the Sauternes engine refused to turn over, landing us in a national park on a remote island with no engineers.
Full of Dubrovnik
The next morning Captain Ljubovic made a repair, but it didn’t last long and the engine died again, this time right across from a cave in Mljet that we joked was supposed to be Odysseus’ hideout.
After a morning of light sailing, an engineer from the mainland arrived by speedboat and within an hour we were on our way to the Franjo Tudman Bridge that spans the entrance to Dubrovnik Marina, where warm showers awaited.
“Dubrovnik is the most expensive city in Croatia,” said Captain Ljubovic as we spent the last of our savings, €70, hiring a taxi van to take us to and from the walled heart of the ancient city, about 15 minutes away.
With two large cruise ships in port, Dubrovnik was bustling with visitors and the price to climb the stone walls that surround the city was a shocking €35. (The next two days Kim and I would spend after the city cruise, we bought the most comprehensive Dubrovnik pass for €35 which included entry to the walls as well as several museums and public bus transport.)
On our last night, we measured the lack of crowds against closed museums. perfect weather for hiking as opposed to swimming-inducing water. plenty of dock space versus more restaurant options — and we felt like we’d come out ahead sailing the season of bargains.
Follow New York Times Travel on Instagram and subscribe to the Travel Dispatch weekly newsletter to get expert tips to travel smarter and inspiration for your next vacation. Dreaming of a future getaway or just an armchair trip? Take a look at ours 52 places to go in 2024.
