Our sail to Cres wasn’t about sightseeing, wine tasting, or wandering cobblestone streets. It was purely a “boat job” run – leave Punat, dump the toilets, make water, and tuck in somewhere before the weather shifted again. We pointed Kora’s bow north and ended up ducking into Uvala Ercić, a small cove on the west side of Cres. Nothing glamorous about it, just a nice, quiet anchorage. But it gave us shelter from what has become the theme of this summer in Croatia: unpredictable, unruly weather.
There is no such feeling in the world like opening the sails and moving forward, propelled only by the invisible force of the wind. And yet … one must account for the winds. This season, it feels like every calm anchorage comes with an invisible asterisk. The forecast can be sunshine and glassy seas, but then … bam! … out of nowhere, the wind slams in, gusting 30-50 knots. We’ve dragged anchor three times so far (thankfully, it’s reset every time), but it’s enough to keep the adrenaline pumping and the sleep light. When those gusts are expected, Doug and I sometimes share a night watch, dozing in the salon rather than the cabin so we can be quick to respond if Kora starts sliding toward cliffs or another boat.
And it isn’t just wind. The rain sneaks in too – short, sharp squalls that don’t last long but still manage to throw off plans. Schedules get wet, laundry stays damp, and passages get shuffled around. By mid-August, we started timing our movements carefully, racing north to stay ahead of a large storm forecast for August 21. With mum & dad’s flights booked on August 28, ours booked September 2, there was no room to risk being pinned down for several days.
For sailors in Croatia, learning the language of the winds is as important as trimming the sails. There’s the Bura (Bora), a cold, dry wind that rushes down from the mountains and can arrive like a slap. The Jugo (Siricco), warm and humid, builds slowly from the southeast but brings big seas and heavy weather. And then the Maestral (Mistral), the sailor’s favorite, a steady northwesterly thermal breeze that arrives on sunny afternoons and makes for perfect sailing. Knowing which one is brewing – and how it behaves – can mean the difference between a dreamy sail and a sleepless night on anchor. [Insert links on Croatian winds here]
So no, we didn’t explore Cres this time. But we did gain another notch in our weathered belts, another story of nights on anchor with one eye on the wind gauge, another reminder that sailing isn’t just about turquoise bays and pretty towns. It’s also about respecting the elements, learning their patterns, and staying humble when they catch you by surprise.
