Omiš / Bol – Day 11 – Maybe the Perfect Beach

(Photo above taken at Zlatni Rat looking out into the Adriatic Sea)

“Take the orange boat.”

That was the advice we received when inquiring about a day trip to the island of Brač, which sits out in the Adriatic Sea across from Omiš. So after dinner the previous night, we plopped down our deposit for six seats on the orange boat, leaving the next morning.

Brač is the 3rd largest Croatian island out of 1,200 islands and has a spine of continuous peaks that run along its 40 mile length, creating a small mountain region within the sea with its highest peak being about 2,600 feet above sea level. Supetar is the largest town on Brač and stares back at Omiš across the approximate 10 mile wide gap sea channel between the two. It’s hard to determine which vantage has the better view. We’ll call it a tie.

An 8:30 boat departure required us to be up early again. Mae helped that along by coming into our room around 6 a.m., saying she had a dream about some girl loosing a tooth and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sleep killer! It’s too bad because the bell tower rang for the first time that day promptly at 7:15 – exactly when the alarm clock was to ring. If we missed the boat now it would be hard to blame it on anyone else.

We were on the boat when it left the harbor at 8:40 eager for the “fish picnic” breakfast included with the boat admission. Actually, it’s hard to get excited about a whole fish (eyes included) for breakfast, but we tried to psych ourselves up for it. An omelet would have had so much more appeal. Our fellow day-trippers didn’t seem to realize it was first thing in the morning as they were boozing before the bow of the boat had swung out of the harbor.

The boat’s destination on Brač was the port town of Bol, which is on the opposite side of the island from the mainland. It is a scenic 2 1/2 hour trip as the boat cruises at about 14 knots per hour. We had smooth sailing until we made the turn around the eastern tip of the island, turning into slightly choppy water. The fish picnic had not yet been served and Claire’s mostly empty stomach was feeling every bump. As Brian Regan would say, “What seems to be the problem? Well it seems as if my insides want to be on my outside. But I’m no doctor.” I’ll leave it at that. Needless to say, Claire skipped the fish breakfast and so did I.

From our view from the water, Brač  appeared to be 95% uninhabited. We observed some old deserted houses and hand-stacked stone walls in designed patterns all along our coastline path. In contrast, it was remarkable to see secluded coves with a house or two built near the water’s edge that clearly had current residents, whose only physical connection to the world beyond their isolation was a small boat and an open sea.

The port of Bol is an overachiever given its small size. With only about 1,600 residents, there was steady activity from fairies, water taxis, backpackers, and tourists. In addition to its fair share of sailboats, we saw a handful of million dollar yachts moored just out of the harbor. After disembarking, we picked up a trolley tram that took us to Zlatni Rat (which means “Golden Beach”). It is a beach like no other. This was THE reason we chose this day trip.

The beach itself juts out from the land in a “V” shape, with a grove of pine trees on its interior and water on both its northern and southern shores. To get a full appreciation for its shape, one must see an arial view. Lacking the private jet, I am linking to this flickr photo (click here). The current from the sea causes a constant reshaping of the shore. At times, the point of the beach has a curved hook much like the shape of a seahorse’s tail. The surface of the beachfront contains no sand – only small stones that have been smoothed by centuries of water refinement and from being banged into one another. As we sat on the edge of the water, we could hear the beach move. It is the rattling sound of the stones being raked by the crash and undertow of the waves. For a brief video of the kids contemplating the act of getting wet, click here. (Warning, speedo alert. And it’s not me).

The lack of sand or seaweed translates into complete clarity in the water, so much so that it is hard to judge the water’s depth. It might look like five feet when in reality it’s more like thirty-five. The air is also void of that salty taste and sticky feel that normally accompanies the days at the coast. And the humidity was non existent. Like I said, just maybe the perfect beach.

Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones at the beach this day. It was crowded, but that didn’t matter. The older kids and I got in the water – even at the tip of the “V”, while Molli warmed her blood. (She eventually got in and wished she had been in the water all day.) The kids got their first uncomfortable view of a few beach mates that had decided to go “au naturale”. The kids kept saying, “That’s just so weird!”

Our boat had a departure back to Omiš only four hours after arrival in Bol and we wished we would have had more time there because the uniqueness of this spot is one that is hard to leave. Molli said, “Next time we come to Croatia, we need to stay on an island. I jokingly added, “And leave the kids behind.”

To which Claire said, “I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”