AS USUAL I'm late – in this case, by an impressive 24 hours. My companions, with whom I shall soon be island-hopping aboard a beautiful teak schooner off Croatia's Dalmatian coast, set sail from Dubrovnik yesterday afternoon, mooring overnight on the tiny island of Lopud before proceeding to Sipan, where I am due to catch up with them this evening – just in time for dinner.
There aren't many conventional sandy beaches in Croatia but instead, an abundance of exquisitely clean, picture-perfect hidden coves, ideal for getting away from it all and even better for swimming. Finding them can be the biggest challenge but, when
you do, it feels as if you've stumbled upon the world's best-kept secrets.
After a couple of hours scaling the ramparts of the extraordinary 13th-century walled city of Dubrovnik – immaculately restored in the wake of the Balkans War and now packed with tourists year-round – I head down to Gruz harbour. There I join a colourful throng of locals – extended multi-generational family groups with masses of luggage, leathery-skinned labourers returning home for a break, a few old pipe-smoking sailors – and a smattering of hearty backpackers, boarding the simple but surprisingly comfortable ferry that will take me to Sipan.
Lopud and Sipan are two of just three inhabited but virtually car-less islands within the Elaphite archipelago which runs parallel to the Peljesac peninsula to the north.
At first we're packed in like sardines but, as the evening draws in and a storm blows through, most people disembark at stops en route until eventually it's just me, an old Austrian seaman and the barman, making smalltalk in broken English as we lurch from side to side in the growing waves.
Just when I think we must almost be there, we pull into a deserted port and the captain disembarks.
"We must get off," the barman announces.
"Is this Sipan?" I ask, anxiously. "No, not Sipan, but boat goes no further tonight. Waves too big."
"But how am I going to get to Sipan?" I squeak, my lower lip beginning to tremble.
"Not tonight," he responds simply. It turns out we are on Sipan – but the far side of the island. The Austrian sailor calls his wife, waiting on a yacht in the same harbour as my companions about 5km away, who sends a taxi to collect us. We drive over the hill and into the dark countryside and the smell of wild fennel and rosemary wafts through the window. I have no idea where I am or where I'm going, but it has been an intriguing beginning to the adventure and when, eventually, the twinkling lights of the harbour appear, I regain my composure a little.
I find my friends in one of the two waterfront restaurants, tucking into the freshest squid I've ever tasted. Already, after just one day, the others look windswept, sun-kissed and happy.
After a seafood feast and surprisingly good, crisp local white wine, we stroll up the quiet harbour front to the gulet. I gasp when I see it. Eighty-two feet of fairytale loveliness with teak decks and regal masts, it is like some refined amalgamation of a thousand cartoon pirate ships. I gallop gracelessly up the gangplank to a lovely outdoor living area, where I'm introduced to our crew of three – the charming young captain, Niksa, who comes from a family of highly skilled local ship builders and has lovingly crafted the boat himself, a chef and a deckhand. My cosy en-suite room, one of five guest cabins, has a surprisingly large bed and after the adventures of the day, I fall asleep easily to the gentle rocking of the boat.
I wake to a magnificent breakfast – strong, hot coffee, croissants, fresh fruit, yoghurts, plus bacon, eggs and mountains of toast on demand – laid out on the huge dining table on deck.
The crew has perfected the art of appearing with platters of cold cuts, bread and cheese (and, at times, dishes much more elaborate) whenever any of us look as if we have the slightest inclination towards food. They also guarantee reservations in the best local restaurants wherever we go.
There can be few better vantage points from which first to survey the lovely Sipan, than coffee in hand, lounging on this spacious deck. The biggest of the Elaphite Islands, Sipan is littered with ancient churches and crumbling, gothic summer villas – nodding to a bygone, prosperous era when Dubrovnik's nobles built grand retreats – all framed by a lush backdrop of agave, olive, pomegranate, carob and laurel trees. After a bit of exploration and a paddle (these waters are truly exceptional for swimming but cold until at least July, after which they are glorious) we reboard our floating palace, sinking into the huge day beds on deck like beached celebrities, and sail through the Mljetski Canal, the warm wind in our hair, bound for Korcula, birthplace of the adventurer, Marco Polo.
One of the greenest, and most popular, islands in the Adriatic, with a medieval walled town that juts out into the sea, Korcula is often referred to as mini-Dubrovnik. It was invaded and repeatedly populated by the Venetians, who left their mark, architecturally, between the tenth and 18th centuries.
Dinner that night is at Adio Mare, a restaurant with a lovely roof terrace, where we sample local specialities – Dalmatian chimney-smoked ham and black risotto with cuttlefish.
From there we sail on to Mljet, an island smothered in rich, dark pine trees, where Odysseus was said to have holed up with Calypso and Saint Paul was once shipwrecked. Being so early in the summer season, there are few boats in the harbour and we have the place pretty much to ourselves. We rent bikes and head inland up a steep hill which, thankfully, levels out before careering sharply down again to a magical turquoise-emerald saltwater lake around which we weave to a little dock.
We abandon our bikes and clamber aboard a miniature shuttle boat that ferries us to St Mary's Island in the middle of the lake, home to a 12th-century Benedictine monastery, consecrated by Pope Innocent III in 1198. Just a handful of other tourists are exploring the island and, not for the first time on this voyage, it feels as if we've stumbled across a very secret place. We climb up into one of the towers and peer out across this peaceful fairytale landscape. I can't help thinking this won't remain a secret for very long.
Factfile
How to get there Flights to Dubrovnik start from £255 from Edinburgh, £267 from Glasgow and £391 from Aberdeen (www.expedia.co.uk).
Where to StayDalmatian Destinations (0207 730 8007, www.dalmatiandestinations. com) has a week's charter for eight from £1,977 full-board, including port taxes and Croatia airport transfers.
And There's MoreFor more information on Croatia, see www.visit-croatia.co.uk
Scotsman Reader Holidays offers seven-night trips to Croatia this month and next from £325. Visit www.holidays.scotsman.com/hotdeals for details.
