Chapter 6 Koločep #3
On Dida Krila’s port side Lloyd could see they were coming to the end of the island.
Above him the mainsail flapped, then cracked to attention as the catamaran came about in a wide arc, ready to sail around a densely wooded headland.
In the middle distance, over Ana’s shoulder, a long, low hillside tapered into the sea, and remembering the charts she’d shown them he knew they must be coming into the protective bay which housed both the village of Lopud and its harbour.
After a short while Natali climbed the steps and, as Ana steered the catamaran into the breeze, he helped her to pull down the sail and fold it neatly over the spar.
Their peace was shattered by the motor bursting into life, and in no time they were cruising in front of the high walls of an ancient monastery, its needle-like church tower pointing skywards, the ruins of a castle dominating the hillside behind it.
The triangular harbour was already crowded with motorboats and wooden fishing craft with colourful stripes around their hulls, and Ana slowed to enter the narrow gap between the outstretched concrete moles.
Lloyd followed Natali down the steps and onto the transom, waiting for Ana to steer them onto their mooring.
The fenders already in place, he steadied himself while Natali jumped onto the quay, then threw the ropes after her, one at a time.
She nodded her thanks, smiling in that shy way of hers, while Obi gambolled around Lloyd’s legs, no doubt excited to see dry land with its endless opportunities for exploration.
He’d noticed that when they were on the move she curled up in her basket under the table, which made him wonder whether the tiny terrier was in fact not the best of sailors.
The engine cut out, giving way to birdsong from the trees sheltering the kiosks that lined the landward quay, trilling above the pop music from a yacht moored a few boats away from them. His peaceful hour was over. Time to get back into the real world.
Ana joined them, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her shorts. “I need to stretch my legs after spending most of the day on the boat. Does anyone fancy a stroll and a beer before supper?”
Lloyd told her that sounded like an excellent idea, but Natali shook her head. “I will s-stay here, prepare the fish.”
“There’s no need,” said Ana. “We can all pitch in once we get back.”
Natali smiled weakly, then shook her head again before disappearing into the galley, Obi at her heels.
“I thought she might have wanted to walk the dog,” Lloyd said as they strolled past two golf buggies parked in the shade of the palm trees.
Ana made a non-committal noise, then began to explain to Lloyd that as Lopud was another car-free island the buggies were used for the shuttle service to transfer tourists to ?unj Beach on its opposite coast.
“It’s only a half-hour stroll, but in the temperatures we’re having they’re certainly needed.”
“It isn’t normally this hot in June?”
“No way. They say it’ll touch forty degrees next week, so there’s bound to be a storm at some point. Let’s just hope it’s when we’re moored up snugly somewhere like this.”
They stopped at the end of the row of trees, under a huge holm oak.
The library table would be set out under its boughs, next to a blue and white painted tourist kiosk selling boat trips, so at least there would be some shade.
For most of the day he’d been envying Marin’s umbrella and hoping he could track one down before next Monday.
At the very least he needed to buy a wide-brimmed sun hat, and given the number of shops and bars ahead of them, this could well be the place to do it.
They followed the promenade as it edged the broad sweep of the bay, a narrow sand and shingle beach fringing the sea to their right.
Unlike Kolo?ep with its steep hills, here the village was built on more gently sloping land, with space for citrus and olive groves; it was away from the coastal strip, and there were even small fields between the houses.
Although most of the buildings bordering the water were traditional two-storey ones of old stone and red roofs, at the far end, about half a mile away, was a massive white creation, completely out of scale with the village, and giving the vague impression of a pair of chained cruise ships straining to break free of the land.
“I guess that horror’s the hotel,” he said.
Ana screwed up her face. “It brings people here, brings money, jobs – at least for the summer – so it can’t be all bad.”
“So the island economies are still pretty seasonal?” Shit.
He hadn’t meant to say “still”. Hadn’t wanted to mention he’d been to Croatia before.
He’d been dreading Ana asking why he spoke a little of the language, but by some miracle she hadn’t.
She probably thought he’d learnt it online to get the job.
“God, yes,” she replied. “It’s the reason young people are moving to the mainland in their droves.
” Most likely Mirjana had done the same as soon as the war was over, so Kor?ula should hold no guilty secrets for him now, and the quicker he managed to convince his dumb brain that was the case, the better.
He focussed back on Ana. “So what do you do in the winters?”
“Well the first thing is to put Dida Krila into dry dock and get any maintenance done. And, quite frankly, when I was chartering from April to October I needed to catch up on my sleep. Then the last few years I’ve been helping out in my parents’ business; all the big restaurants want oysters during the festive season. ”
Ah yes, she’d said over the weekend that her folks were oyster farmers.
It hadn’t been the most relaxed couple of days, truth be told, and perhaps some of that had been his fault.
Very often people didn’t know how to react when he told them he was a widower, and Ana, and Natali in particular, were young after all.
But the fact remained, losing Jenny had been a life-changing moment and was too important not to mention.
He just had to be very careful that from here on in, it didn’t define him in their eyes.
He needed to show them he was moving beyond it.
He returned his attention to Ana. “So is oyster farming a family business?”
“Yes. For generations back. There are only a few licences and we’re lucky to have one.
It’s a hard way to make a living, back-breaking manual labour, but if you do it right you can earn good money.
Tata and Mama have bolted on some tourist stuff too – boat trips to the oyster beds, tastings, linking up with local wineries. ”
“Sounds interesting.”
“I’ll arrange to take you one weekend, if you like.”
“I’d love that, but for the moment, before we grab that beer I need to find a better hat. My baseball cap just didn’t cut it today.”
Ana frowned. “We need to get you an umbrella or something. I should have thought of it.”
“It’s difficult to know what we’ll need until we’ve seen all the library pitches. Look, here’s somewhere selling tourist garb so I guess they’ll have hats.”
Ana was still scowling. Was it something he’d said?
He ran back over his words, but he didn’t think so.
Then it struck him; perhaps she was beating herself up over the umbrella in the way she had over the sack trolley?
If she honestly believed she had the monopoly on ideas it could end up feeling like a long old summer. He needed to lighten the moment.
“You’ll have to help me choose though. Ruth always says I have terrible taste and we can’t bring the library into sartorial disrepute.”
Thankfully Ana smiled and followed him into the shop.