Cruising Croatia

Success while fishing with Drazen and Tanja. By Elize Smith (Mrs Seevarkie) F ISHING brings us numerous benefits, and the friendships that are made through this sport are incredible, often offering up unexpected surprises. I recently experienced this firsthand ... My story of an unforgettable adventure started when I was contacted by Gordan Govorcinovic who represented one of the Croatian teams fishing in the FIPS World Trolling Championships held at Sodwana Bay in February 2019.

Gordan wanted to book two days of marlin fishing before the competition started so that he and his teammates, Bosko and Drazen, could familiarise themselves with the South African methods before it was game on.

When they arrived I shared some local knowledge, helped them build their terminal tackle, rig a few lures and advised them which lures would probably work best in our waters. Next we put all our skills and luck to the test aboard Mrs Seevarkie. Unfortunately we didn’t manage to land a big one over the two days. Nevertheless, during the competition the Croatians hooked and lost one marlin and eventually landed a black marlin which was successfully released by Gordan.

The incredible beauty of Plitvice Lakes National Park.

Johan Smith’s first bluefin tuna.

During the week we had a few drinks and many laughs together. A friendship was formed and they invited my husband and I to visit them in Croatia. They suggested we pack our bags and jump on a plane in September, said to be one of the best months to visit.

They were so kind and eager to host us, but it all seemed a bit rushed and I hesitantly responded with,“Maybe we’ll see you in 2020.” I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind though and concluded that time waits for no man, so we decided to take advantage of this remarkable opportunity. After all, I’ve always wanted to catch one of those big bluefin tunas or a swordfish.

On 3 September, we flew to Rome and then to Dubrovnik where we hired a small car. Driving on the righthand side of the road with left-hand steering proved a bit challenging for Johan and in the first ten minutes we already attracted some unpleasant reactions to Croatia offered up plenty of good food and company.

Elize Smith’s first bluefin tuna.

his driving. Communication was challenging too as most of the Croatians we came across weren’t fluent in English and we can’t speak Croatian.

We stayed in Dubrovnik for three nights, experiencing the old town with all its history dating as far back as 700 AD. From Dubrovnik we set off to Makarska, a smaller town and real gem next to a huge mountain range alongside the coast. Swimming in Croatia is a real pleasure, with no sharks and crystal clear, warm water.

OUr next stop was Split, one of the main coastal cities where we stayed for three nights. There we explored the city and also took a speedboat trip to see the Blue Cave and visited a few other islands.

From Split we drove further up the coast passing Sebenik and on to Murter Island where Gordan’s boat was moored at Marina Hramina. There we were met by Gordan and Bosco and welcomed to Gordan’s holiday home. On our first day of fishing we headed out 30-40km from the mooring to try our luck finding some bluefin tuna. We chummed with approximately 80kg of sardines and herring and put out four drifting baits at different depths in about 80m deep water. Unfortunately no tuna, but I managed to catch a nice dorado which one of the local restaurants in town prepared for us.

The weather turned bad the next day and we were unable to launch, so we spent the day lazing at the beach and walking around the island and were amazed by the beauty along the coastline. With the weather still not playing along, day three was another no go, so Bosco treated us to a special beef barbecue, in real Croatian style. Superb meat accompanied by Cemish (white wine with sparkling water) and Rakia (mampoer).

On day four we left Murter Island, driving along the coast past Zadar where we visited the Sea Organ and

Visiting the sights in Pula.

Monument to the Sun before continuing on to our inland destination at Plitvice Lakes National Park.

Early the next morning we packed our backpacks and set off for a day of exploring the streams and lakes of the Plitvice Lakes National Park. What a fantastic day enjoying the breathtaking beauty of nature. One of the lakes is so big that you have to take a ferry from one side to the other to carry on with your backpacking along the trails. This is a must-do for any tourist visiting Croatia. At the end of the trail you’re picked up by a truck that looks like a train which takes you back to the parking lot.

From there we spent one at Rijeka where there is also lots to see and do, and the next day we set off to meet our other hosts, Drazen and his wife Tanja, at Medulin Marina. We were told that the bluefin tuna were more prevalent and bigger in this area. Not wasting any time, we immediately headed out about 15km and started chumming with four baits out. While waiting for the big one we were treated to a spread of cold meats, cheese, bread and a few beers. Johan hooked up on a nice size bonito but unfortunately we had no luck with the tuna.

That night we went out for dinner with our hosts to try some of the local cuisine — truffles. It’s quite a different taste, though, so we decided to stick

78 • SKI-BOAT March/April 2020 The harbour in Rovinj.

with some more familiar food.

The next day we just explored the town of Medulin with a little city train/car and that night we were treated to a Croatian dish of peppers filled with minced beef, a paprika sauce and mashed potatoes. Delicious!

Pula was our stop the following day — a breathtaking place with stunning architecture and vivid history. That evening we were spoiled with a bluefin tuna steak — outstanding! Luckily Tanja and Drazen speak a bit of Dutch so we understood each other very well, much to Johan’s relief as his English “is not so delicious”. Drazen suggested that we go out for another round of fishing on the Saturday. Early in the morning he went and bought some fresh bait from the trawlers in Roving and got the boat ready, then after watching the Rugby World Cup match between SA and NZ and enjoying a very delicious pasta lunch we set out to try and land one of those big ones. When we reached our spot there were trawlers nearby pulling nets and lots of dolphins which was a good sign. After about 20 minutes of chumming with four drift baits in the water the first reel started screaming and it was my turn to fight the fish in 40m deep water.

Drazen doesn’t have a fighting chair on the boat, so I fought it from the gunnel and landed a bluefin of about 50kg. I was ecstatic — my first fish over 50kg

and a bluefin tuna as well! Not long afterwards Johan hooked up too but unfortunately the hooks pulled. Luckily another reel started screaming and he was able to land this one — estimated at 70kg — on 50 lb stand-up tackle. It was his biggest tuna yet.

It was a beautiful, calm afternoon and at approximately 5.30pm another reel started screaming. Drazen gave me this one to fight too and I safely released a bluefin tuna of roughly 65kg. Mission accomplished!

Before leaving the next morning, we enjoyed fresh croissants and coffee at the marina to say goodbye to our dear friends, and then set off for Rovinj, one of the most beautiful towns in Croatia. Very early the next day we dropped off our car and caught our ferry to Venice where we spent the afternoon wandering the streets, amazed at the amount of water traffic patrolling the city channels.

At last it was time for our final al dente pasta paired with great wine, and then a flight back to South Africa.

What an unforgettable three weeks! We highly recommend Croatia for the bucket list beauty of it all and also to do some bluefin tuna fishing. To all our wonderful hosts — Gordan, Bosko, Drazen and Tanja — thank you so much! We will never forget the great hospitality you showed us and we hope to see you again soon.

BELL REEL KIDS WINNER E ACH year one lucky junior who writes a story for our Bell Reel Kids feature is picked in a lucky draw and wins a Shimano rod and reel courtesy of Bell. For 2019 our winner was Jordan Kahn from Ballito. Congratulations, Jordan!

Jordan spends a great deal of time out fishing with his dad, Alain, and was fresh off the water when he received his prize from Blake Phillips of the Bell sales office (left). Our sincere thanks to Bell for their continued support of our juniors — they are the future of our sport.

Are you 16 or under and would you like to have your story featured in SKI-BOAT magazine, win a Bell cap, jacket and model vehicle, and stand a chance to win a Shimano rod and reel? If so, then send your 500 word story about why you love fishing or about one great day’s outing to <sheena@mags.co.za> along with a couple of high-resolution photos.

See an example on page 72 of this issue. In the meantime, happy fishing!

SKI-BOAT MAGAZINE SURVEY WINNER T HANK you to all the readers who took the time and trouble to fill in the readers’ survey and return the responses to us. We’ve learned a great deal about you and the kind of fishing you do and we hope you will be happy with the tweaks we make going forward. Sadly there could only be one winner and Anthony Cranswick of St Helena Bay is that lucky angler. He wins the Safari coolerbox and bundle of Mustad goodies courtesy of The Kingfisher.

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WHEN GROWN MEN CRY The dangers of clubs, competitiveness and strafdoppe...

MY husband George is a man’s man — he enjoys rough conditions at sea, sleeping in the veld, wearing nothing but his Faf-speedo (an eyesore), drinking beer by the litre, whisky by the gallon and swearing like a sailor. He is also extremely competitive at everything he does, especially fishing. Bearing all that in mind, I was surprised to see him throw a few tantrums and cry like a baby during our December holiday at Cape Vidal.

We recently became part of the Vidal Clan, a group of ski-boat enthusiasts who visit Cape Vidal during December each year. One of the fishermen arranged for personalised caps for the Vidal Clan, with the angler’s boat’s name emblazoned on it. George was very proud to become part of this fraternity and it meant that he only removed his cap when he retired to bed at night.

While the cap gave George an excuse to hide his bald spot, it also made him even more competitive than before; he simply had to be the best fisherman in the Clan. Of course thecap-that-may-not-be-removed soon began to stink terribly, and George’s competitive streak meant our holiday was turned into a fishing bootcamp.

We had to rise at 3am every fishable morning to be sure that we were the first boat to launch and then fish the whole day to try and catch the most fish. We were rather unsuccessful with our fishing exploits, but nobody ever beat us to the launch.

Now we all love fishing and are used to most of the smells associated with our hobby, but it became a bit much when our sons and I had to hold our breath and stay mostly up-wind of George to avoid catching the smell of his cap. It reeked of a distinguishable mix of sardine, dorado, campfire smoke, whisky, beer and sweat; not a pleasant combination.

It was after the “skippers’ briefing “that we witnessed George’s first tantrum. Just to clarify, the skippers’ briefing is really just an excuse for all the skippers to congregate at the lookout point at Cape Vidal and have strafdoppe. Mates dream up any reason for one another to be punished with a mixture of the worst kinds of alcohol — and laxatives. As if this was not bad enough, one mate decided to decorate the rim of a drinking glass with an anaesthetic!

When George returned from the skippers’ briefing he was drinking cane neat from the bottle, could not move his lips at all and was dashing for the toilet. The result was that George could talk and laugh but could not move his lips, just like a ventriloquist, and did not dare to cough. It was a ridiculous sight and we couldn’t help laughing which did not impress George. When he finally emerged from the toilet, he threw a tantrum and decided to sleep on the boat that evening — wearing only his speedo and cap.

Despite his condition the night before, George was up at 3am the next morning banging on the log-cabin window. He was motioning desperately at his watch and the toilet, still unable to move his lips, and still sporting his speedo and cap. I had a hard time at keeping a straight face.

After his rushed visit to the toilet we immediately set off to launch. Once out at sea we discovered that our Saltist BG5000 had been completely stripped of its braid and the red-head Rapala tied to it. George proceeded to throw another tantrum. Have you ever seen a ventriloquist throw a tantrum? It’s very entertaining, but if he’s also your skipper you have to be careful of your response! George was convinced that the boys had been playing with the rod and were hiding the truth from him.

A short while later a Clan member sent a message around asking who had lost a red-head Rapala and a lot of braid. Apparently the Rapala was found dangling from a tree, with the braid leaving a trail all the way to the launch site. It

turned out that, in his poor state in the dark that morning George had forgotten to put away the rod before we drove to the launch-site. The rod had been standing up in the boat’s gunnel and the Rapala hooked onto a tree, so George had had his first strike of the day before we’d even launched the boat.

With the anaesthetic still affecting George’s lips, it was impossible for the boys and I to keep a straight face when George apologised for his tantrum. We started laughing, and then so did George. The more he laughed — while not moving his lips — the harder we laughed, until we were all crying with laughter. This got even worse when we realised George was working extremely hard to try and suppress his laughter because the laxative had not yet worn off either!

Things started to look up when we were pulling a few deep diving Magnum Rapalas and my rod suddenly screamed like a pig being slaughtered. We were convinced we had hooked a big tuna and there was chaos on our boat as we desperately started clearing lines to chase this big fish. George was barking out orders in ventriloquist-style, all the while trying to grab my rod.

I managed to fight off the ventriloquist, but the fish presented a more difficult challenge. My muscles were crying for mercy when the fish finally relented and we got him close to the boat. As he surfaced our sons screamed with delight at the sight of a magnificent wahoo; it was our first ever, and George’s dream fish.

We celebrated like mad people when the wahoo was safely deposited into our hatch and the anesthetic must have worn-off on George’s lips, because we could now see the emotion on his face (and lips) as he was overcome with emotion at having his dream fish onboard. Now we’re all counting the days — and fortifying our nerves — until the next Vidal Clan trip in December.