Sailing the Dalmatian coast

Its clear turquoise waters are straight out of a Caribbean film shoot, but Croatia's stunning Dalmatian coastline is more than your average tropical paradise.

Sailing is the ideal way to explore the Dalmatian coast. You don't have to spend hours on trains or buses and you can just about dock up wherever you want. Marinas are often smack bang in the centre of town, where all the action is.

Cruising up to big bustling ports in Dubrovnik and Split was a surreal experience. One minute you're lounging on top deck watching the buzzing city get bigger and bigger - the next you're in the thick of it, exploring the myriad of tiny alleyways or kicking back with a drink at a waterfront bar.

There are plenty of operators to choose from, catering to everybody from backpacking thrill-seekers to sedate middle-aged holiday makers. We settled on the Kapetan Kuka, a medium-sized vessel chartered by adventure travel company Travel Talk.

Sleeping up to 35, the boat is bigger and roomier than a yacht but not massive and impersonal like a cruise ship. Better still, it was still small enough to be able to leap off the top deck and into the water to cool off!

At the first briefing with our fellow cruisers on top deck, it quickly became apparent that we'd be doing more than lazing around in the sun all week. With a large contingent of single, testosterone-fuelled Australian males, this was going to be a booze cruise.

We struck it lucky with the weather - although our trip was early in the season, temperatures topped 35 degrees most days and we barely spotted a single cloud in the sky. The heat wasn't noticeable when the boat was cruising along through the pancake-flat waters of the Adriatic sea, but it was baking hot when we anchored at small inlets for a swim or docked up at marinas.

The cruise

Starting in the busy port town of Split, the boat headed south to the large island of Hvar, before continuing to the emerald isle of Mljet. We then continued to the stunning medieval fort town of Dubrovnik, before returning to Split, via the island of Korcula and the laid back coastal settlement of Makarska.

Aside from these amazing towns, coastal inlets and nature reserves, the best part of the trip was simply chilling out on the top deck as the boat cruised past tiny isles, rocky limestone cliffs and pristine coves. Mornings were spent lazing on cushions, being cooled by the breeze as we waited for the captain to drop anchor so we could dive into the crystal clear water.

Party time

We docked up at a new spot shortly after lunch, and afternoons were spent exploring medieval fort towns, swimming at rocky beaches or just lazing around in the shade drinking beer. Most of our fellow cruisers had popped the top off a cold one by 11am, and continued on into the wee hours of the morning. Cocktails were a hit at sundown, served up in 1 litre wine carafes by Kapetan's hardest-working crew member, Bartender Ivan.

Everywhere we went, the cocktails seemed to get bigger and bigger, and came in all sorts of weird and wonderful contraptions, including buckets and oversized plastic beakers. In one bar, we donned US army helmets, against which the bartender slammed his cocktail shaker before pouring out a frothy pisco-style blend. The straws were also enormous, and seemed to get longer and more brightly coloured as the week progressed.

Croatians certainly make the most of their landscape when it comes to partying. Besides boozing up on the boat, we went clubbing in the bowels of a 15th century fort, a subterranean cave and several narrow alleyways. There was also a bar with a stripper's pole available for general use and rigged with CCTV projected onto a giant screen outfront so everyone could watch random drunken fools making with the pole.

Hvar

The sheltered harbour of this pine-forested island was seized upon by the Venetians as a naval base and haven for merchant ships travelling along the Adriatic coastline. The Venetian influence is still evident, from the town's beautiful piazza and cathedral, to the narrow alleys lined with white-stone buildings topped with terra cotta roofs.

We arrived at this peaceful port just as the sun was setting over its medieval fort perched high above a sheer limestone cliff face behind the town. Hvar is one of Croatia's largest islands, and is home to about 3,000 people but is almost entirely dependent on the annual migration of tourist hoards from other parts of Europe. In the off-season, its a completely different place apparently, with unemployment as high as 70%.

Mljet

This is one of Croatia's most southerly islands, and compared to its northerly cousins, is relatively pristine. A national park, the island's rocky capes are blanketed in a thick layer of emerald pine forests. Inland are two salt water lakes, connected to the sea by man-made canals.

There's not a whole lot here but that's part of Mljet's appeal. We took a minivan a few kilometres inland to the larger lake, and a short ferry ride later we arrived at the site of a former Benedictine monastery, dating from around 1200. This tranquil lakeside stone building was fringed with brightly coloured blooms and sturdy date palms. Conveniently, right next door we found a shady waterside terrace serving up mugs of cold beer and ice cream.

Another ferry took us over to a pebbly beach on the smaller lake. The pristine pine forests stretched all the way up to the piercingly clear water lapping gently on the shoreline. It was a beatiful spot for a relaxing swim, aside from having to negotiate through the lumpy, uneven pebble river bed on the way in and out.

Sunset coincided with happy hour on the boat. We enjoyed cocktails served in massive wine carafes and big brightly-coloured straws as the light gently faded over the surrounding islands. And, to complete the "shipwrecked in the Caribbean" theme, dressed up as pirates, drawing silly tatoos on each other with eyeliner pencils.

Dubrovnik

I was slighlty concerned I had built-up Dubrovnik too much, but my fears were swiftly erased when we passed through the city's robust fortress walls and into the old town. Exuding the stately charm of Venice, the elegance of Prague and the sturdy medieval gradeur of San Marino, Dubrovnik is both breathtakingly immaculate yet at the same time relaxed and accessible.

Surely there is no other place in the world like it. The city's white limestone buildings are beautifully maintained, surrounded fully inact stone walls and then encircled by the dazzlingly blue waters of the Adriatic. It's tropical paradise and a rugged medieval outcrop all rolled into one.

Strolling atop the city's chunky fortress walls was an unforgettable experience, as the long summer afternoon bathed the city's terra cotta rooftops in a mellow peachy glow. Everywhere you look is an amazing angle, gazing at window sills lined with flower pots, into neatly arranged courtyards or down over the walls to sea-side bars built into the rocks.

A tiny hole in the city wall led to one of these bars, perched atop a series of big rocks adjoining the sea. It was the most incredible place to enjoy a drink in the sun before diving off the rocks and into the water for a refreshing cool off. This was an ideal antidote to arriving in the old town on a sweaty bus in 35-degree heat.
 
Later that night, we partied outside a bar in one of the city's steamy alleyways enjoying cocktails in big brighty-coloured buckets. We then headed to a club called Revelin, set in a massive stony atrium that was once part of Dubrovnik's wall-and-fortress complex. Here, the cocktails were served in big pink plastic containers in the shape of yard glasses. There were smoke machines, lighting effects, girls dancing in cages and even at one point a male gigolo-looking guy gyrating frantically on the bar.

Korčula

We spent most of the day moored at an isolated inlet, which was a welcome change of pace after our action-packed day in Dubrovnik. I alternated between the smooth wooden deck and a cushion-lined sun lounge, leaping over the railing periodically to cool off in the water.

In the afternoon we moored at the sleepy island settlement of Lumbarda. With stately-looking villas fanning out from the marina into hill tops covered with olive groves and vineyards, it seemed like a reasonably well-off community. Near the marina was an open-sided palm-fringed bar backing onto a calm, pebbly beach.

That night, in another attempt at a theme party, we attempted to make improvised wedding outfits out of black and coloured garbage bags. To spice things up, everyone cross-dressed, with guys wearing yellow, blue and red plastic dresses and girls wearing black waistcoats, top hats and tails. As is always the case when boys enjoy cross-dressing, the result was pretty funny, especially seeing those who consented to having make-up smeared all over them.

The following morning we rented mountain bikes and pedaled inland, past rows of grape-studded vines and hobby farms and into Korčula island's forested interior. The tarmac quickly turned into gravel tracks, and it was slow, hot work grinding our way up the steep hills but the sweeping views of a mountain range on one of the nearby islands made it worth the effort. After riding around for an hour or so, we let loose down the hills, bumping and grinding all the way to the bottom.

Later, we stopped in at the sheltered harbour on one side of Korčula town. With walls and lookouts running part of the way around, it sort of resembled a mini-Dubrovnik, with its maze of white stone buildings and alleys. As with elsewhere in Croatia, Korčula has made fine drinking establishments of its historical features. We sipped on cocktails atop the ramparts of a castle-like lookout tower, where a pully system transported drinks up from the bar in the basement.

Makarska

Wedged between the sheer Biokovo mountains and the sea, the seaside resort town of Makarska has a horseshoe-shaped port on one side and a long, flat pebbly beach on the other. Its shape means that it has plenty of waterfront real estate - there is almost an endless line of beachfront bars and a long esplanade adjoining the marina.

The town seemed popular with locals, who sensibly bought with them bits of cushion to put between them and the coarse pebbly beach. It was pretty uncomfortable lying on the pebbles with just a towel - and we couldn't really be bothered to rent armchairs. By this point in the trip we were feeling pretty lazy, a combination of late nights, endless heat and for many of us, travellers diarrhea (tour guide tried to pass this one off as sun-stroke but we didn't have any symptoms of a heat-related illness!).

Split

After a final blissful morning swim, the boat docked back in at the port of Split, meaning we had come full circle and would soon be booted off the boat to make way for the next round of cruisers. We spent the final evening having dinner under a sweaty plastic awning in a courtyard restaurant and drinking in yet another tiny humid alleyway. By this point, I was starting to get a little claustrophobic, so a few of us escaped the group to enjoy the gentle breeze along Split's beautiful lit-up waterfront.

Split radiates out from the Diocletian palace, built by the Romans in the fourth century AD. Part ruin, part museum, the interesting thing about this complex is that the still-standing sections are in use as shops and apartments. Apparently the palace has been this way for hundreds of years, with nobility and ordinary folk living cheek by jowl.

At the front is the entrance to the original Roman section, today a network of dungeon-like passages winding in and out of high domed atriums and stone courtyards. We visited this part of the palace in the middle of the day to escape the heat. Once inside, it was a good 15 degrees cooler than the sunny courtyard out front.