I’m awake at 4:30 am in my eagerness to explore Korcula while the streets are quiet. A couple of locals are walking to work and nod good morning. Cats meander their way through the alleys and dive into small cracks in the stone so all I can see are their tails sticking out when I walk past. A fisherman throws bread into the sea before tossing his line in, hoping to catch some fish for lunch.
We get underway and I make my way to the bow of the boat in search of Captain Toni and the bridge. He’s puffing on a large cigar and a cloud of smoke wafts above his head. Chef Ivan has his dry food storage in large bins at the bow and picks out some potatoes and onions in preparation for today’s lunch. Andro and Duke, the deckhands, are busy polishing the railings and windows while the housekeeper, Lea tidies our rooms.
We find a bay to moor in for our extended swim stop and judging from the loud gasp and surprised look on Jo’s face, I’m guessing that the water is a lot chillier than yesterday. Jan and I decide we’re going to give the canoe a try so we can avoid getting wet and end up going in circles. Either we’re not proficient at paddling or the wind is blowing us off course.
We continue on to Opuzen, which is a very small town that’s only accessible by river. It’s just deep enough that our boat can cruise through. Farmland borders each side of the river with small boats moored to trees on the banks. Opuzen has quite a few dilapidated stone homes with large murals on the walls so I wander the narrow streets to appreciate the art. The locals are reserved and watchful as I walk through the main square.
We hop into two small, flat-bottomed boats to head further into the wetlands. The captain of our little vessel is wearing a black and white striped t-shirt with a very short red tie. His dress reminds me of the gondoliers in Venice although our captain is missing most of his bottom teeth and his t-shirt just barely covers his portly stomach. He offers us araki, a Croatian liqueur, that has such strong fumes it’s making my eyes water. We do a shot to toast our journey and I gasp as the fire slides down my throat.
We have a traditional Peka dinner at restaurant in the heart of the wetlands. Again, I’ve eaten too much and have to roll myself back into the boat to return to The Aurora.
