What could be more exciting than quails eggs?

I thought yesterday's highlight in a peaceful day would be to say that we had quails' eggs for lunch but that was totally beaten by the episode in Cavtat harbour. The rules in Croatia are that you must call in to the first available point of entry to check in to the country (with the Immigration, Customs, Police, etc). Leaving Montenegro therefore we  went in to the charming and ancient little harbour of Cavtat which is not far from Dubrovnik (and incidentally directly under the flight path of planes coming in to land). 

Swinging round the headland we saw a fleet of maybe 8 or 9 sailing charter boats, all flying one flag - clearly a flotilla. Beyond them, the tiny quay had no space. One catamaran at the dock, with the charter colours, was skippered by a man who was trying to keep all his charges in order from a fair distance by waving his arms at them and shouting a lot. It took a while for us to work out what was going on. Another yacht (not in the flotilla) was also trying to get in, as was a big solo catamaran which would take a bit more room than we would. But - we all had to queue for our turn, which meant motoring around quietly to be ready to nip in, but without hitting anyone else. 

On the quay, the shouty man was apparently trying to teach the flotilla skippers from a distance about what they should do. They mostly looked like complete novices. At the quay a very very large shiny white (Russian?) show-off boat had two smart crew members using giant black fenders to protect the sides of their vessel as one by one the queuing boats took their turn to tie up.  This means backing in, using a dropped anchor at the nose, and getting two lines secured at the stern - all in a steady cross wind which tended to push everyone sideways in a bunch (not good).

We saw our chance after about twenty minutes, going in after the two other solo boats had berthed plus one flotilla boat. We were alongside the big white smart job, and we got in with no fuss and well-fendered. Our skipper went off to check us all in - we expected a long wait even though 'our papers were all in order'. The solo boat beside us left. Another flotilla boat decided to come in, encouraged by the shouty man on the flotilla catamaran. This boat headed for the quay backwards at quite high speed and a lot of revs. They dropped their anchor much too late, and the wind started blowing them sideways. Amazingly they got in to the narrowing space beside us and the shouty man but at an angle, much too fast and heading to the stone dock.  The marinero on land started shoving to keep them off. Passengers started throwing ropes at him but missed - each time the ropes had to be fished out, to try again. With the anchor so poorly positioned they had to go out and try again. The shouty man was nearly apoplectic. (He still had another half dozen or so of these manoeuvres to supervise with the rest of his fleet).

The yacht tried again - once more far too fast and out of control. We had extra fenders on the starboard to keep them off. The chap throwing lines to the marinero had no idea what he was supposed to be doing - the ropes went into the water and he kept throwing them but had them the wrong side of the rails and had to undo everything and start again. The engine was being revved like a racing car. We worried that their anchor had gone over ours as it was so random. The crew on the big yacht was looking appalled. Our lunch (quails' eggs) went unattended.....  

We were all watching to see what would happen next. In the bay, more of the flotilla were roaming round, waiting to come in. Small ferries went back and forth from their terminal in the far corner of the quay. A very pretty girl in huge sunglasses was tenderly helped off the big smart yacht by the crew. They said they had an important guest aboard for lunch, and would then be heading to Montenegro.

Amazingly our captain came back much sooner than expected. Check-in negotiations had gone very smoothly and swiftly. The official had even said 'Everything is in order!' (a running joke for us after our experiences in Albania and Montenegro - where it was pretty well impossible to say what order our papers should be in).  

We wanted to get out. The shouty man was still shouting at his flotilla. The fleet-boat beside us was tied up at a weird angle. The smart crew in the big yacht helped fender us out and said sorrowfully they wished we were staying longer as they knew more of the flotilla would be coming in beside their immaculate gleaming sides. Miraculously our anchor had not been crossed by the boat beside us so we edged out, into the seething swirling mass of flotilla boats whose captains were shouting to their crews and to the shouty man at the quay, and barely able to see each other for waving arms and circling round each other. One started backing in towards the quay - but we still had to get our anchor up, and he came faster and faster at us backwards, screaming at us in Italian. We - and the marinero, and the shouty man, and the crew on the smart yacht - were all shouting at him to go forward. It seemed like collision was unavoidable but at last our anchor was up, we could swing away to port, and by a hair's breadth we missed him.

We were legally checked in, and on our way. The marina at Dubrovnik is a little way up river in a high gorge and very peaceful. During the night the Bora arrived - a fierce wind swooping down the Adriatic from the Alps. The temperature dropped from about 32 to 22 degrees, much more bearable. This travel blog started with discussions about wind noises in the rigging of adjacent yachts - we have the same song again now. We leave our friends today to bus into Split for a couple of days. 
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