Friday, 20^th May; Zadar

It now feels as though summer has finally arrived; settled weather and a calm sea, just perfect for the day we head out of Zadar with our latest guests on board, Dean Grant and his young friend, Ben Bolton. Dean has become a friend since we moved to Malta, we have only met his boyfriend briefly once before. They make a handsome couple, Ben is ten years younger than Dean, very slim and boyish; Dean looks in great shape for his 36 years although he has started to grey at the temples.

As we pull away from the dock, we are moored alongside a concrete jetty with no tires or fenders; the stern port quarter comes within about six inches of the hard concrete pier and due to the relative inexperience of the deck crew, our running fender comes out and flutters uselessly above the gunwales. I hold my breath as we move slowly away from a near disaster.

We head out in amongst the myriad of small islands that run parallel to the shore just off Zadar; our plan is to move slowly north over the next three days to our next destination of Losinj.

We decide to eat lunch underway. I love to sit at the aft dining table watching our wake recede into the distance, the sun glinting on the calm water. No sooner has Bruce served a delicious lunch of langoustine, seafood risotto, than Victor comes aft to tell us that dolphins have been sighted off the bow. Everyone drops their forks and rushes forward to be greeted by the sight of three large bottle-nosed dolphins crossing under our bow. They perform beautifully for us, one leaps right out of the water while two others rise gracefully in unison to breathe audibly and plunge back into a dive. As quickly as they appeared they are gone.

To our surprise, these islands are heavily wooded, such a contrast to the bareness of the Kornati islands. We meander in and out of the islands as we wend our way slowly north; the waters are calm and the sun is shining, the reflections on the still sea like mother of pearl. In early afternoon, we anchor in a quiet bay with shelter all round so everyone can relax and have fun. The crew put the kayaks into the water; Alex and Bruce go for a paddle to the nearest small island. I take our guests for an exhilarating spin in the jet-ski; she runs down the coast at her maximum speed of 50 miles and hour; I put her into some tight turns that ensure Ben puts his arms around my waist; you need to employ every subterfuge when you get to my age. I take Timot out with the waterproof Gopro camera; the difference in handling is marked, Timot’s weight as compared to Ben behind me makes it harder to get up onto the plane; then we shoot off, once underway the difference is barely noticeable. Timot get some great shots of tight turns and waterline shots of the wash.

Saturday, 21^st May, 2011; Zadar archipelago

In the morning we decide to go swimming and exploring the underwater life. It is still cold enough for wetsuits, so Derek and Victor suit-up. The water visibility is excellent and the underwater environment in this remote place looks undisturbed. There are plenty of sea urchins; some females have pebbles and shells on their backs – a sign they may have roe inside. Derek spots some large fan clams and collects a few to eat. From the sandy bottom they retrieve a number of disgusting-looking sea squirts or sea cucumbers; they look just like flaccid penises but the Japanese consider them to be a delicacy. I think I they are welcome to them.

After lunch we press on slowly northwards to find a sheltered anchorage by a small village. We venture ashore to explore. There are brilliant patches of yellow Spanish broom in flower; they look painterly against the dry-stone walls and greenery of the maquis. We look for other interesting plants. Dean is a landscape designer and, as he lives on Malta, has an extensive knowledge of Mediterranean plant life. Only the night before, we finished off a bottle of a clear liqueur called Mastica made on the Greek island of Chios. We identify the mastic tree, Pistacia lentiscus, from which this pungent, resinous drink is made. Alongside the crumbling stone walls we find a straggly hedge made entirely of a plant with palmate leaves like cannabis. Dean identifies it as Vitex agnus-castus, the Chaste tree, so called because priests used the berries to dull their libido; the translation of agnus-castus is castrated lamb.

The field system has been abandoned and has reverted to scrub. Not much apart from the broom is still in flower; there is one plant with pale yellow, upward-pointing, tiny, trumpet flowers; the leaves are broad and velvety with pronounced reticulate venation. Neither of us knows what this is, so we decide to take a flower back to identify. I love spending time with flower samples and a pile of reference books and soon I find the answer; it is Birthwort, Aristolochia clematatiis, so called because it was used to induce childbirth but the toxins it contains are now considered to dangerous for medicinal use. Timot likes the low evening sun that backlights the showy mass of yellow broom. It dances across the flat-calm water to illuminate Kalani’s topsides with ripples of golden sunlight as it dips down behind the horizon.