Thursday, October 8, 2015

Skip the Casual Skipper


With a lodging win finally in the books, we could relax and enjoy Vis Island...and the homemade pancake things that were hand delivered by Petar to our door piping hot our first morning. COULD HE BE ANY CUTER.

Komiza was the perfect place to wander, explore the traditional fishing village, go to the beach, and eat.  

















Our studio had a small kitchen. Inspired by this fact, I declared, “I will buy fresh fish from the market and cook it.”


KJ was not a fish lover. Yet. I’d turn her if it was the last thing I did.

We made our way to the fish market in search of the freshest catch they had. 

Mr. Sea bass stared at me, wide eyed from inside the case. I stared back at double intensity and unblinking, just to make sure it was dead. 

"We'll take that guy" I pointed to my choice.

Fisherman nodded, swiping the selection from the case. 

"You will filet that for us? Won't you?" I asked in a moment of panic.

Clearly entertained, Fisherman smirked the smirkiest of all smirks, paused, and nodded.

Phew.

Visions of cutting the fish up whilst it watched me subsided. Slightly. The eyes still haunted me.

Our dinner tucked away firmly in our studio fridge, we made our way to the harbor to see about getting ourselves on a boat.

There were caves to explore, and beaches to bask on. 


We’d heard rumors of a cave. A blue cave to be exact. I had an inkling it would be super tourist central which deterred me, but upon hearing that the activity following would be a visit to a boat only accessible beach, I was back in.  It was a gloriously sunny day and it would be a shame if it wasn't spent on a boat. 

And that's how we ended up on the Blue Cave Tour. 

We boarded the glorified rubber dinghy with sunbeams warming our faces and packed in tight like sardines with some new sweaty strangers. Suuuper cozy. Twas a convenient thing that we were amongst good company. The folks on the boat, including Skip the casual Skipper, were a fine bunch. We bopped on the waves over to Bisevo Island, a close but not so close island near Vis. 


The wind whipped my hair, smacking myself and my adjacent boat buddies in the face. Thank god for my best hair clip to tame the beast that is my hair. As we arrived to the dock I was internally grateful that we wouldn’t have to wait in what might be one of the longest lines in the history of long lines. I was right. Super tourist central. Good thing we had Skip the casual Skipper and we could sk--
Nope.
We definitely had to buy tickets, wait in line with everyone else to get into that damn cave. The warming sunbeams turned into scorching daggers quite quickly as we stood still in a mass of people that they deemed a line.

KJ and I were mere seconds from melting when we arrived at the front of the line. We were ushered onto a boat with none of the original strangers from our trip over. But we were on our way into the cave, so we weren’t about to question it.
Rounding the corner, Bisevo island’s edges jutted out of the water.
We approached the cave and my first thought was, “well that can’t be it, the hole is much too small.”

Just then the hole birthed a boat. As the seemingly empty tour boat emerged from the cave hole, about 12 heads popped up simultaneously. So that’s how it was to be done...
It was our turn to enter the cave hole and we all crouched down so as to not experience a beheading, and it worked. It was dark and damp in the cave, (obviously) except for the blue light we'd heard about, as we rounded the corner. I have to admit that all 30 seconds of our visit into the cave was pretty cool.

And with that, we were being delivered out of the cave into the open sea again, while another boat full of tourists marveled at our neat trick. All that for 30 seconds of viewing a blue light inside a cave hole.
I almost didn’t care though because I knew that the beach was next up. Somehow all of the original crew from our boat over gathered at the same time, corralled by Skip the casual Skipper. We bounced back into the rubber dinghy, literally. The sides reacted much like a bouncy bounce house and nearly launched KJ as she made her way back into the boat.


We circled half way round Bisevo to a tiny little blip of a beautiful beach that went by the name of Porat. Skip dropped us off with promises of retrieving us later. Whatever, I’d be fine staying here. We were in a little baby cove, with crystal clear, more shades of blue than the big box of Crayola crayons, water. This is what I had been waiting for.






Sun bathers riddled the rocks lining the cove, laying out as if they were mountain goats taking an afternoon siesta. I wasn’t sure how they got out there, but I was sure that they most likely weren’t very comfortable.
A few hours and a few levels crispier later, Skip the casual Skipper finished his last sips of beach bar beer and we loaded ourselves back into the dinghy. Only difference from before was that it had become increasingly windy, and the waves were looking extra choppy. Another boat pulled up with a windblown captain wearing the mother of all windbreakers. Twas going to be a choppy ride…

We braced ourselves as we left the security of the little cove. Boat #2 was a bit bigger and had taken some of our passengers on account that the waves were huge and we were in a glorified dinghy. This gave us a tad more room to spread out and hold on for our dear lives.

We exited the cove just ahead of boat #2 and the games began.

The swells rocked us about like a toy boat. My stomach lurched. We looked back and boat #2 was turning around in defeat. Yikes.

We kept on, of course. This was just another day at the office for Skip the casual Skipper. He was in fact, taking a personal call on his cell. Priorities. 

As a huge wave soaked all of us on a particularly hairy crest that we white-knuckled through, I looked back at Skip. He gave me a hearty thumbs up.

Things I learned on this boat ride:
1.  I tend to sing operatic notes when I’m scared. Every large wave transformed me into a soprano.
2.  My attachment to my best hair clip is intense.
3.  Fellow boat mates become best friends in milliseconds when you're about to go overboard.

Up and down we rose and fell, some waves bigger than the others. 

And on the biggest wave challenge of them all, it happened. My wet rope like hair was whipping across my face to the point where I couldn’t see anymore. I reached for BHC (best hair clip), when we suddenly hit a bump; BHC sailing out of my slippery hand. KJ and I gasped as BHC was dangerously close to going over the edge. KJ grabbed it, narrowly saving BHC from becoming a casualty. I looked at her, with as much gratitude as if she'd just saved my first born.

That was a close one. I tucked BHC safely away in my bag and decided to just deal with the wet hair rope slaps. It wasn’t worth it.

Komiza was nearing closer and we held on for the last bit. Skip assured us we’d be there in a jiff.

We returned to the dock, wet, wind blown, high on adventure, and thrilled to be on land again. We gave Skip the casual skipper props by way of applause, and busted out of that joint.

We had other fish to fry. Literally. It was time to cook up Mr. Sea bass for dinner.



And I did.




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