The Night Clubs within bass range of Hejira went on until 4am. I have to say that I felt for Bob in the bow and I have to admit that in the master cabin at the stern, I was not too troubled but this may have been partly due to the anaesthetic.

Given the issues with the weed clogging the engine intake, it seemed prudent to check it again and also to take a look at the strainers on the AC intakes as the systems have been running continuously when we have been plugged into shore power. There was a little weed in the engine strainer but the AC filters were really clogged so it would appear prudent to be more vigilant on this front in the future. Heaven forbid if the AC were to fail !

Bob in his usual position in front of the AC outlet doing what he seems to do best

Trogir had been recommended and it was only a slight detour to take it into our itinerary. We are so pleased we did as, maybe because we had booked in advance, we are moored in pole position and it is a really memorable place.

Great spot to moor Hejira
Gourmet snack while we decide our eating strategy – what is he doing again
Trogir, a World Heritage Site
I must bore him rigid, this is all he seems to do !

Our mooring exercise once again was slick and when we asked the ‘sailor’ who took our lines about replacing the cooking gas, he touched his nose and told us to be discrete, he would return. It felt as though we were buying drugs or counterfeit cigarettes. He said we should place our empty gas bottle in a bag to disguise it and he would let us know when to go to a clandestine marina lock up. This we did and were assured that Ivor (not necessarily his real name) was ready to help with any marginal services – nod nod, wink wink and I left with a full bottle at a modest price. I am not sure what it contains but I will no doubt find out, let’s hope it is not explosive and the flame is blue.

Bob writes:-

Last night, the Skipper provided a repast fit for the most discerning curry buff. Having endured the last offering and finding that 2 teaspoons of chilli flakes burnt several parts of my anatomy at different times, I asked that the flake content be ameliorated somewhat. This time, I witnessed what passes as a Mines’ teaspoon being added to the curry. The technique is first to take the teaspoon in the right hand, plunge your left mitt into the half hundredweight receptacle of chilli flakes, then carefully scoop the teaspoon into the flakes, piling what must be at least 100 gm of chilli flakes into the palm and teaspoon, finally transferring the mound into the pan! I leave our reader’s imagination as to the havoc that two ‘mounds’ can wreak to a normal person’s alimentary tract!

A further element of last night’s entertainment was our having some wine with our meal. All was going well when I heard words that I would have never have considered would ever be uttered on board Hejira when the Skipper declared that he was going to pour some wine remaining in his glass back into the bottle! I actually did a double take, to the point where I nearly asked if he was feeling all right! Normal service was resumed before I could get any words out with his follow up statement, ‘To make room for some Scotch!’

As we approached Trogir this afternoon, we had taken to reading the most informative Adriatic Pilot. This tome advised us that Trogir had been around since Roman times and had been built on an island, presumably to better defend it against marauding Huns and the like. We had a thought about this and probably reckoned that it was correct; swimming across a 200m stretch of water in chain mail or a suit of armour doesn’t do too much for your chances of successful rape and pillage if you actually manage to get out on the far side!

Trogir backstreets

As Nick has said, last night was a fitful night of sleep, with Club Bunny going full tilt for most of the early hours. Tonight, I thought, being the Sabbath, we might be afforded nothing more extravagant than church bells. I was not enchanted when at about 20:00 a flaming ‘oompah’ band struck up on a socking great catamaran on the adjacent pontoon! Teutons again! Even the Skipper was moved to walk past and ascertain for how long this performance that massacred ‘Hey Jude’ and ‘Let It Be’ might continue. He came back a convert! I can only think that steins of beer had changed hands! If I hear one bar of ‘Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles’ tonight, I may not be responsible for my actions!

Oompah entertainment. For some this involves jumping in the water and having beer poured on your head !

Finally, my last offering to the holy grail of the Skipper’s blog for today; the Skipper has exacted retribution for the excessive cost of the marinas……….he has denied me the passerelle! Once again I have been faced with the near suicidal challenge of leaping across the chasm of water that has been left after our ‘slick’ berthing. I shall have to pay more attention as to what he gets up to at the stern whilst I am left heaving the 4 inch manilla forward lines!

Bob denied the passerelle and taking the ‘leap’


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