We took a short 16 NM sail up the coast to Becici, near Budva – an easy run that wound past a string of beach clubs, bustling waterfronts, and spectacular rocky cliffs jutting out into the Adriatic. The coastline here is dramatic and full of life, with each curve revealing another hidden cove or sun-drenched resort.
From our pretty anchorage just off Sveti Stefan Beach near Becici, we had front-row seats to the madness unfolding across Uvala Bay: paragliders and parasailers dangling from the skies, inflatable lounges packed with kids bouncing wildly behind speedboats, jet skis carving wild turns like torpedoes, and a guy clinging to a donut tube for dear life – biceps flexed, dignity questionable. It was beach resort chaos in full swing – thrilling, a little reckless, and wildly entertaining.
Needless to say, we didn’t swim the anchor or jump in for a dip – not the safest waters with all that high-speed traffic zooming by. Instead, we stayed aboard Kora, settled in for the evening, and enjoyed our front row seats to the show with a glass of wine and a good book in hand.
The next morning was our turn. We hopped into the dinghy and zipped across the bay to Sveti Nikola Island – destination: Hawaii Beach. Many locals simply refer to the island as “Hawaii” – it has earned its nickname due to its idyllic, tropical-like beaches and clear, azure waters, reminiscent of the Hawaiian Islands.
Docked, we went to pay for our dinghy spot. Doug realized he had forgotten his wallet. And they didn’t take Apple Pay. Or credit cards for that matter. Montenegro only deals in cash! So back across the water we went, Doug becoming a noticeably faster dinghy driver under financial duress. Second try: success. Drinks in hand – Hawaiian Delight for me, creamy banana milkshake for Doug. Gorgeous view. Perfect!
The timing of our visit to this little island felt cosmic. Emily’s off to play beach volleyball at the University of Hawaii next season, and lo and behold, across the water was Queen’s Beach, the location of her new home court. The universe had spoken. And apparently, it said: Doug needs a new hat! (Sorry, Tulane Beach. It’s time!)
Next up, a little dip. The water? Shockingly cold. You-try-to-play-it-cool-but-you’re-squealing-inside cold. And with the beach made up of rocks and pebbles, water shoes were a must, unless you enjoy doing the barefoot tiptoe dance across irregular stones. But once out – even still wet – it was glorious. We didn’t even feel the slightest bit of cold. Go figure!? We wandered past seven little beaches, stumbled onto beach volleyball courts (of course), and then flopped onto lounge chairs like content sea lions.
Lunch was a delicious meat platter, piled high, and a fresh salad, which Karen promptly declared was both lunch and dinner. The way she said it, Doug knew she meant business. No second meal would be served today. Better eat up!
We dared one more swim – convinced ourselves the water had to be warmer on the other side of the island. It was not! But by then the sun was fully blazing, necessitating a second walk around to Hawaii Beach, which looked absolutely stunning in the sunlight.
That evening, Karen gave Kora a much-needed wipe down – finally clearing off the clay brown dirt blown down from the mountains in Brindisi and the black dust from the boat fire we’d seen there. The solar panels, however, were left untouched. Karen meant to snap a photo to send to Steve (“When’s your cleaning crew stopping by?”) but decided it was a job for another day. Except… that night it rained…
And by morning? Kora was sparkling clean, having benefited from the extra rinse down with clear water. Even the solar panels! Steve… did you stop by while we were sleeping?
