Yachting on Croatia’s coast

When we pulled into the tiny harbor in the ancient walled town of Korcula, we breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day: 70 miles across the Adriatic from the coast of Italy aboard our little 39-foot motor yacht, Avanti. We had finally arrived in Croatia, that string-bean shaped country stretching along the eastern edge of the Adriatic Sea and including more than a thousand mostly uninhabited islands.

We landed in Korcula (pronounced KOR-choo-la), located on one of the small islands 50 miles north of the famous walled city of Dubrovnik.

The last time we visited this beautiful town was in 1970, when Marshal Tito was still alive, facilities were minimal and the only tourists were middle-aged, generally overweight Germans who cavorted nude on the local beaches.

Being young, adventurous and 30 years younger, we hitchhiked through Yugoslavia, staying in homes or any empty field or woods where we could throw down our sleeping bags.

When we returned more than three decades later, things were vastly different, although the country has not lost a bit of its beauty. Tourist-friendly Croatia was clean and well-run and boasted some of the best marinas in the Mediterranean. The one thing that had not changed was the Croatian people’s friendliness.

Korcula is a tiny, walled medieval town, complete with moat and drawbridge. We strolled the narrow stone alleys inside the walled city, stopping to visit the childhood home of Marco Polo and buy local cheese and fresh tomatoes at the tiny outdoor farmers market.

During our second trip to the town, our dog, Roka, minding her own business, was attacked by a cranky cat in the town square. Her pathetic cries drew a small crowd of locals into the square to cluck their tongues in sympathy. Of course, this was a minor crisis compared to our 1970 trip, when we nearly lost our passports and all of our money and valuables on the side of the road.

Our next stop, the neighboring island of Hvar, is home to a charming town of the same name that, although not walled, is nestled beneath a spectacular hilltop castle.

On Hvar we biked through vineyards during the harvest. The smell of fermenting grapes emanated from nearly every basement or small building in the village. Locals brought empty bottles to fill from the barrels in the local outdoor market. Most of it was pretty tasty, but Napa clearly need not worry.

A third nearby island, Mljet, was composed almost entirely of a national park. We tied up at a dock, where three restaurant owners yelled and waved to us as we entered the bay, each vying for our business at the dock in front of his restaurant.

We circled our boat, closely inspecting the offered spots, and were finally seduced by the name Calypso. According to Homer, Calypso held Odysseus captive, allegedly on the island of Mljet, for seven years.

We chose well. The owner of the Calypso fed us royally on “kid under the bell,” a delicious goat dish cooked for four hours under a ceramic bowl buried in burning charcoal. Even our dog loved the eatery. He had to be brought back to the boat by the cook (the owner’s mother) after wandering into the restaurant kitchen.

Less than 50 miles down the coast is the famous town of Dubrovnik ? a fascinating, magically beautiful city. News reports in 1991 claimed the city was being destroyed in the nine-month Serbian siege triggered by Croatia’s declaration of independence from Yugoslavia. Serbs lobbed bombs and shells from the hills above the city, but the demise of Dubrovnik was vastly overstated.

The town is ringed by a 15-feet-thick wall, designed to protect the city from invaders and open for public strolling along its top. Packed within the wall are medieval- and Renaissance-era churches and palaces, all beautifully preserved and packed within the town walls. The town’s marble streets are closed to traffic and shine from the centuries of use.

The most noticeable change in Dubrovnik since our last trip was the giant horde of tourists roaming the city ? Americans rather than nude Germans, probably because so many cruise ships stop here.

We rented a car and spent a day in Montenegro, only an hour’s drive to the south. We found the former province of Yugoslavia much like Croatia, except poorer, with even more dramatic mountains and certainly fewer tourists. The Montenegrin coastline brings back memories of the Croatian coast as it was on our first visit in 1970.