My partner in crime for this trip would be Nathan/Slick Willie/The Rookie/Snowy depending on how you know the lad as well as his parents Jan and Tony and their family friend Dave all of which were salty seadogs from way back!

Trip was all random an unplanned as possible to a certain extent…just the way we wanted it. Up until a week before we left we had no flights t Croatia or home much to the disgust of many ppl including my boss. The trip to Split itself was one for the memory bank; Wizz Air - 'Eastern Europe's Budget Carrier' provided us a pristine 1977 Boeing with carpet which looked like it had outlived religion, warm beer and stale sanga's prepared when yugoslavia still existed but we didn't care, Croatia awaited us!

The burly gentleman in customs gave me a thorough looking over before allowing me entry possibly due to my shabby appearance and the 'tache I was sporting in my passport photo. The cab ride to the harbour was just inviting death mostly travellking on the LHS of the road even though they usually travel on the right!

Upon greeting the vessel I was introduced to the crew. A great bunch all very excited to start the trip but it was decided the Saturday night would be spent in port allowing Slick and I a night out in Split frequenting a few bars.

Sunday we set sail under steel (ie the motor) as there was NO wind. It was also the time I was to be assigned my position of assistant deckhand. My role would be to pull ropes, turn leavers and basically do the monkey work which suited me fine as it also allowed a lot of time for sunbaking and sleeping above deck. It was from here I had my first chance for a swim in the magnificent Adriatic; fresh it was but still a great way to beat the hangover I nursing after giving the Slivovicia (a local spirit/plum brandy) a fair nudge n Split. From here were to wing our way through the Croatian islands towns of Bol, Hvar, Vis, Stormoska and Trogir ending back in Split.

Each island had its own charm and highlights. Bol was the famous Zalnerat beach which changes its shape everyday (it's a very stange point shape), in Hvar we had a random night out with a kiwi, 2 english and few of the MFC lads fresh out of the boxing ring in Greece. In Vis we would encounter 20 knots winds making our longest trip in distance the shortest in time and it would also be the place we celebrate Slick and fellow crew member Dave's birthday. In Vis we would manage to pull up anotheryachts mooring on two seperate occassions both times requiring me to go underneath the yacht and untangle them before they got stuck in the prop!Stormoska was the prettiest place we visited. The water was crystal clear and locals friendly enough to lend us snorkels so we could check out the fish living just outside the port. Trogir was again a beautiful old town with a long history and a magnificent castle on the shoreline.

Upon on getting back to port Friday night and having booked a flight back to London from Dubrovnik it was decided that we'd better head down there on Saturday morn. After a visit to Bosnia on the way down we arrived at the bus station to be greeted by fifteen 65yo women screaming 'apartment' at us. As is the norm in the area, we decided to stay with an lady who's name I never actually caught. Basically she had 2 spare rooms inside her house which would cost us the grand sum of 100kuna (or 10 quid) for the night. Following the trip in her 1969 Lada which she threw like a rally car at 1/10th of the speed we arrived at our quarters. Spacious they weren't but they'd dofor one night. We cruised the Old City for the rest of the day and drank at a bar overlooking the Adriatic watching the sun set with a few new friends and in between time jumping into the water from the high cliffs that looked over the sea.

That night we had a great night out, meeting a restaurant owner who looked like Chopper Reed (see pics) as well as a couple of French guys who tried their best to refine our 'rude' French pronunciation. Its wasn't 'hoss-eg-or' its 'os-egg-or', we were told numerous times but after 20 Ozujosko's we didn't really see the difference.

Fair to say the flight back was a killer the next day, even after getting up early to swim; we just didn't feel ready to head back to London. The week and half of straight drinking, late nights, early mornings and endless steaks had caught up with us but we still wanted more! Luckily we had different flights which gave me a chance to chill out and listen to my ipod on the flight back which thankfully was with the more reputable Thomson Fly. Ring of Fire was blaring as I landed in at Lucky Luton for the 1.5 hour trip back. Got home as the i-pod battery died, realised id left my camera charger behind, had a very sore ankle from a fall in Havr, blistered hands and chronic dehydration but still thinking I'm defiantly going back next year!