About the Joy of „being uneventful“

We left Banjole/Fašker bright and early at 5:00 a.m. on August 14th, with little wind and hardly a wave in sight. With light conditions predicted, we had chosen this early start to give the crew a gentle—if somewhat noisy, with the engines running—introduction to our crossing.

It turned out to be a good decision. A couple of hours later, we hoisted the spinnaker, which carried us calmly down past Kornat and onward toward the Italian coast. Still, the motion of the catamaran takes some getting used to, and combined with the muggy heat, it left a few of the crew feeling a little queasy.

By nightfall, however, spirits were high again, and we shared a lasagna dinner before darkness settled in. Mark took the first watch from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m., passing through flashes of distant lightning—thankfully without any accompanying thunderstorms. I came on at 2 a.m., joined later by Laura and Jonas. With little happening, I let them keep lookout while I stayed nearby, ready if needed.

The next day unfolded much the same: a mix of sailing and motoring. The night that followed brought no spectacular starry skies, thanks to the moonlight and damp, muggy air. Still, we made the most of it with home-baked Zimtschnecken and a first attempt at using Starlink.

Day three, too, began gently and calmly. Then, just before sunset, Neptune gifted us with perfect spinnaker conditions: flat seas, doing easy 7–7.5 knots, and a roast dinner enjoyed under sail. Pure bliss.

Finally, just before midnight, we dropped anchor at Santa Maria di Leuca. The town welcomed us with its unmistakable Italian holiday vibe: loud music, the scent of fritto misto, a haze of cheap cologne—yet also wonderfully still water and the glow of a beautiful lighthouse.

And although the night still buzzed and hissed with life around us, we quietly said: Good night. We’ll explore you tomorrow.