DISPATCH 1, ZAGREB  05/27/05 We arrived in this 1000 year old town yesterday morning . . . and will spend a couple days here readying to be afloat for the next five weeks. This city is an under-known European capital, fixed on an unseen border separating the eastern bloc and the Mediterranean. As a result, everything -- from the architecture to the people -- seem to live in a kind of permanent Border Land, differentiating it from the other big European cities I've seen. It reminds me of a cross between Prague and Brussels, an unusual mix. Today is a holiday across Europe, so the city is quiet, like a Sunday, though the electric trams and produce markets are running and full. From here it is just four hours by van to the Adriatic Sea . . . where we will be in the next couple days.

		Dispatch 2    Zagreb  05/28/05 75 sec .mp3 file (1.1mb)

		Dispatch 3    Krupa  05/30/05 65 sec .mp3 file (1mb)

DISPATCH 4, Zrmanja River  05/29/05 The Zrmanja River -- long and clear blue, marked by shallow rapids and big waterfalls -- has never hosted big sea kayaks before , for understandable reasons. But, 60 kilometers from the Adriatic Sea, we found ourselves lowering our 17 foot long boats down the banks of a 40 foot waterfall. It made sense to me, the first time I saw these big, braided falls . . . to start our adventure here and paddle to the sea, towards our starting point at Zadar. The river was the most direct route . . . Back in our boats at the bottom of the falls, even under an early summer sun the mist off the tall fall hitting the river was cold. The braided falls -- 180 feet across, in a horseshoe -- are perfect for pushing our boats into and out of, playing, before being pushed gently down the river. The rest of our day was spent running small rapids and pushing the boats around several more small waterfalls until taking them out for good above a metal bridge. A wooden shack nearby bore a sign that read FAST FOOD. Once seated along the riverside, another sign , this one on the wall of the shack, caught my attention -- NO HATCHETS. Which was a bit intimidating, until it was explained that in Croatian the word for WORRIES sounds a lot like HATCHETS . . . . so this was a place where worries were not allowed . .. .

		Dispatch 5    Kornati  06/05/05 90 sec .mp3 file (1.4mb)

DISPATCH 6, Kornati  06/08/05 Paddling yesterday on the outside of a tall Kornati island, 15 miles off the mainland, what we desired more than anything was a respite from the blazing sun. Temperatures were in the high 90s, the Adriatic Sea was perfectly flat, and we were cooking in our own juices, snugged into the cockpits of our sea kayaks. Spying a slight overhang in the 200-foot tall cliff casting a small shadow over the sea, we each -- independently -- headed for it. Arriving first, before I could bask in the cool of the shade I spotted something glimmering on the surface, next to the rock wall. Initially I thought it was a metal pole used by sailboats to hook buoys, or maybe a fishing rod. On closer inspection it turned out to be a fancy speargun. The Croatian paddler accompanying us during these first days, Domagoj Pac, took it upon himself to try and wrest the spear from the depths. It was either stuck fast in the rocks below the surface, or hooked to something very, very big. Tug as he might, nearly flipping his kayak in the process, he could not get it to release. Cutting the line with his knife, he stuck the gun into his cockpit. We were, after all, in national park boundaries. Getting caught with a speargun, innocent or not, was not a good idea. Minutes later, both a police boat and an official park boat zipped past. Only an hour later, pulling into the marina at Piskera, did we discover that the speargun had belonged to a marina employee whose body had been found earlier in the day, floating -- dead -- near where we had recovered the gun. Turning the speargun over to police, we asked few questions, and stood respectfully distant from his grieving friends, gathered on the dock hearing the news . . .

		Dispatch 7    Hvar Town  06/11/05 75 sec .mp3 file (1.2mb)

		Dispatch 8    open water: Hvar to Vis  06/12/05   72 sec (1.1mb)

DISPATCH 9, Vis  06/16/05 Vis is the furthest most inhabited island in Croatia, some 40 miles offshore. Komiza is its furthest most town. The combination of being far from land and the fact that the strong wind from the south, the jugo, which has been blowing for a week now . . . seems to be making everyone slightly mad . . . . These strong, non-stop winds can have mysterious affects on all people, but especially island people. Fishing catches decrease, and suicides increase. In the old days of the Dubrovnik Republic, when the jugo blew like this it was forbidden to sign contracts and punishments for crimes committed were lessened. What we witnessed in Komiza today was but a small peek into just how mad. We saw a bride in full wedding gown plunge into the sea holding a small bouquet of flowers and a big orange buoy. We met the greatest fisherman in town, whose nickname - Fire - seemed odd for a seaman, though it is said (by him) that he has caught more than a million tons of fish in his life on the sea . . . and easily drank that much in beer . . . . At high noon we helped pull a sunken fishing boat from the sea, where it was being weathered (i.e. shrunk). Our reward? A lunch of bacon and cheese and onions in the cool of a 400 year old stone alleyway, with Fire and his pals, who seem to do a lot more lounging in the shade these days than fishing . . . .

		Dispatch 10   Ston  06/21/05 93 sec .mp3 file (1.4mb)

DISPATCH 11, Luka-island of Sipan  06/23/05 Under a setting sun Miljenka -- the lone professional, i.e. licensed fisherwoman, on the island -- feeds 300 of net into the sea and crosses her fingers, literally, that there will be fish in it when she returns in the morning. ''We have fished here the past 10 days,'' she says, motioning to her husband Dvjo to accelerate the small boat forward, ''and we have not been so lucky.'' A native of the island, she and her family --- three boys aged 18, 17 and 8 -- have lived and fished on Sipan since war drove them from Dubrovnik. She tells a story of getting around a mainland road block by racing from here to Ston in a speedboat, two of her sons huddled on the floor, under fire from both land and sea. Life has been better here since then, but the fishing has gone mostly downhill. ''In the two years just after the fighting ended, in 1992, the fishing was incredible. Since during the war there was no fishing at all, the fish population grew very big. Today . . . I'm not sure where they have all gone.'' Her meticulous logs, required by the government, show her daily take to range from 8 to 10 kilos, which are sold -- usually -- to the same restaurant. The next morning, with her son Ivan doing most of the heavy work of pulling the net in over the rollers of a motorized winch, Miljenka frowns when the first 100 meters of net come in with just a half'-dozen fish . . . which turns to a smile when meaty, red fish start flopping around on the deck. Her account of a decline in fishing matches what we have heard along the coast, especially from small fisherman, with everyone concerned the Adriatic may already be on the verge of being fished out.

		Dispatch 12    Lopud  06/25/05 58 sec .mp3 file (916k)