The promotional version of The Yacht Week is pretty easy to understand.
Get a group of friends together.
Charter a yacht.
Spend seven days sailing between Croatian islands.
Swim in the Adriatic.
Stay up all night.
Repeat.
And to be fair, that’s basically what happened when I sailed The Yacht Week’s Black Route in July 2014.
What the pictures don’t adequately communicate is what happens somewhere around Day Three, when eight or ten people have been living together in a fiberglass boat under the Croatian summer sun.
It’s hot.
It’s cramped.
Things are beginning to smell.
Someone is probably seasick.
Nobody has slept enough.
And you’re starting to understand that living on a yacht is considerably more glamorous when you’re not actually living on a yacht.
The Yacht Week is essentially glorified camping.
Except your tent is moving.
And you might be seasick.
It was also one of the most fun weeks of travel I’ve ever experienced.
Our route took us from Split to Vis, Komiža, Šćedro, Palmižana and Hvar before eventually returning to Split.
There were ancient cities, military tunnels, scooters, beach clubs, memorial World Cup matches, and approximately 50 boats that somehow transformed from complete strangers into one giant floating group of friends.
This was The Yacht Week in 2014.
Night 1: Split
Everything began in Split.
It’s difficult to imagine a better place to start.
Split is built around the extraordinary Diocletian’s Palace, constructed for the Roman emperor around the beginning of the fourth century.
Except calling it a palace gives you the wrong impression.
This isn’t an isolated ruin.
The ancient city is still alive.
Restaurants occupy centuries-old buildings. Apartments sit above narrow stone streets. Bars spill into passageways that have existed for more than a thousand years.
And somewhere among all of that history were dozens of people buying unreasonable quantities of food and alcohol before climbing onto sailboats.
Which brings me to my first Yacht Week recommendation.
Buy Food. Just Don’t Plan on Eating All of It.
Before departure, everyone provisions the boat.
You absolutely should.
Water.
Snacks.
Breakfast food.
Sandwich ingredients.
Fruit.
Whatever you can prepare quickly.
And then don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re going to save money by cooking every meal aboard.
Eat out.
You’re sailing through Croatia.
There are waterfront restaurants, tiny island tavernas, cafés and historic towns everywhere.
Go experience them.
More importantly, by the middle of the week, you’re going to want reasons to get off the boat.
A sailboat sounds spacious until it becomes your bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, living room and transportation for a week.
Eventually, you’ll happily pay for a restaurant simply because the table isn’t moving.
Take Care of Your Skipper
There’s another Yacht Week rule I learned quickly:
Take care of your skipper and your skipper will take care of you.
That’s it.
Don’t overcomplicate it.
Your skipper is responsible for safely moving your floating home around the Adriatic while you and your friends are doing everything possible to make that job more difficult.
Treat them like part of the crew.
Buy them dinner.
Buy them a drink when they’re off duty.
Listen when they tell you something about the boat.
Help when they ask.
Don’t destroy the yacht.
A good relationship with your skipper can completely change the week.
They know the islands.
They know the harbors.
They know where to anchor.
They know when you need to leave.
And most importantly, they know what they’re doing while everyone else is operating on approximately four hours of sleep.
Take care of your skipper.
They’ll take care of you.
Night 2: Vis
Our first major island stop was Vis.
This was one of my favorite destinations of the entire week.
But there was a logistical problem.
There were very few good slips available in the main port.
So you had two choices if you wanted one:
Wake up at sunrise.
Or…
Don’t go to sleep.
By Night Two of Yacht Week, the second option didn’t seem particularly unreasonable.
Rent Scooters
One of my favorite experiences of the entire trip had nothing to do with partying.
We rented scooters and explored Vis.
Vis has a fascinating military history. During the Yugoslav era, the strategically located island was heavily militarized and largely closed to foreign visitors.
That history left military infrastructure scattered across the island.
Including submarine tunnels carved directly into the coastline.
So we spent part of the day riding scooters around a beautiful Croatian island looking for abandoned military installations.
It was fantastic.
One minute you’re surrounded by vineyards, Mediterranean vegetation and stone villages.
The next you’re standing at the entrance of an enormous tunnel where Yugoslav military vessels once disappeared into the mountain.
Even during Yacht Week, Croatia continually reminded us that there was much more to these islands than beaches and parties.
Fort George
That evening, the educational portion of the day ended.
We headed to Fort George.
The British built the fortress in the early 1800s during their occupation of Vis.
Two centuries later, hundreds of Yacht Week participants were partying inside it.
Ancient stone walls.
Open Mediterranean sky.
Music.
People from all over the world.
It was a spectacular venue.
And we were only on Night Two.
Night 3: Komiža
Then came Komiža.
Let me be very clear about something:
Komiža is beautiful.
It’s an old fishing village on the western side of Vis with stone buildings clustered around a small harbor and mountains rising behind town.
You should visit.
What I would not recommend is sleeping on a yacht there under the conditions we experienced.
We were much more exposed to the open Adriatic.
The boats moved.
And moved.
And moved.
People got sick.
There’s an especially unpleasant equation created when you combine alcohol, minimal sleep, a cramped cabin and a boat rolling in open water.
This is when the “luxury yacht vacation” marketing begins to encounter reality.
You’re hot.
You’re sweaty.
The boat smells.
The bathroom is tiny.
Your bed is moving.
And someone nearby is seasick.
Glorified camping. At sea.
Komiža was the night when the Yacht Week fantasy and Yacht Week reality became fully acquainted.
Night 4: Šćedro
And then came Šćedro.
If I had to choose one night that represented what made The Yacht Week special, this would be it.
Šćedro is a tiny island south of Hvar.
There wasn’t a giant nightclub waiting for us.
There wasn’t some elaborate entertainment district.
There wasn’t really anywhere else to go.
Instead, roughly 50 Yacht Week boats gathered together in a single cove.
That was the party.
And that was what made it so much fun.
USA vs. Belgium — From a Tiny Croatian Island
There was also something else happening that summer.
The 2014 World Cup.
On July 1, the United States played Belgium in the Round of 16.
And somehow, while sailing around Croatia during Yacht Week, we found ourselves watching one of the most memorable U.S. World Cup matches ever played from tiny Šćedro.
Think about the setting.
We were on an island in the Adriatic.
Dozens of yachts were packed into the same cove.
People from countries all over the world were traveling together.
And the United States was playing a World Cup knockout match thousands of miles away in Brazil.
For 90 minutes, nobody scored.
Mostly because Tim Howard was having the match of his life.
Belgium attacked relentlessly.
Howard kept stopping them.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And again.
Eventually the match went to extra time.
Belgium finally broke through.
Kevin De Bruyne scored.
Then Romelu Lukaku made it 2–0.
Julian Green pulled one back for the United States almost immediately.
Suddenly it was 2–1.
And somehow, after being completely outplayed for huge stretches of the match, the U.S. was still alive.
They couldn’t find the equalizer.
Belgium advanced.
The United States went home.
Howard finished with 16 saves, a World Cup record for a single match at the time.
And we were standing on Šćedro watching it happen.
I’ve watched hundreds of soccer matches.
I remember where I watched very few of them.
I’ll always remember that one.
Then Šćedro Became a Party
Once the match ended, there wasn’t exactly somewhere else to go.
So the cove became the party.
Boats became floating bars.
People climbed from yacht to yacht.
Music traveled across the water.
Someone you met on one boat introduced you to people from another.
Then those people brought you somewhere else.
Eventually, nobody seemed entirely certain whose boat they were standing on.
It didn’t matter.
Until Šćedro, Yacht Week still felt like dozens of individual groups traveling along the same route.
Šćedro was the night all 50 boats became friends.
It was easily one of the most fun nights of the week.
And there wasn’t a nightclub anywhere in sight.
Boat Hopping
This is probably my strongest memory of Yacht Week.
The flotilla gradually became a community.
Before Šćedro, you knew your own crew.
After Šćedro, you knew boats.
You knew flags.
You recognized people.
You’d meet someone while climbing across three yachts and then run into them two days later walking through Hvar.
By the end of the week, the entire fleet felt like one enormous floating neighborhood.
An extremely sleep-deprived neighborhood.
But a neighborhood.
Nights 5 & 6: Palmižana and Hvar
Eventually, we reached Palmižana, in the Pakleni Islands directly across the water from Hvar.
Palmižana is gorgeous.
Pine trees.
Clear water.
Quiet coves.
Restaurants hidden among the vegetation.
Under practically any other circumstances, I’d tell you to stay there and enjoy the peace.
But this was Yacht Week.
And Hvar was across the water.
That’s where everything was happening.
Hvar Doesn’t Sleep
Hvar was the unofficial capital of the week.
The town is stunning.
Venetian architecture surrounds the harbor. Stone streets climb into the hills. A fortress overlooks the waterfront. Yachts fill the harbor below.
And during Yacht Week, the entire place seemed to operate 24 hours a day.
Restaurants.
Bars.
Beach clubs.
Boats.
Parties.
Repeat.
Which leads to perhaps my most counterintuitive Yacht Week recommendation:
Book a hotel room in Hvar.
Yes, You’re on Yacht Week. Get the Hotel.
I understand.
You’ve paid to spend a week on a yacht.
Why would you pay for a hotel?
Ask yourself that again on Day Five.
After several nights aboard, a hotel room begins to resemble the Four Seasons even when it isn’t.
Air conditioning.
A normal shower.
A bathroom.
A real mattress.
Space.
Privacy.
A floor that doesn’t move.
Absolute luxury.
We booked rooms in Hvar for our two nights there.
It was one of the best decisions we made.
You can still spend the day on the boat.
You can still participate in everything Yacht Week is doing.
But eventually, you can leave.
And by Night Five, leaving the boat is a feature, not a bug.
Spend as Little Time on the Boat as Possible
This became my philosophy for the week.
The yacht is your transportation.
It’s your home base.
It’s where you’ll swim, sail, drink, sleep and spend plenty of time with your crew.
But don’t make the mistake of treating the boat as the destination.
Croatia is the destination.
Get off.
Explore Vis.
Walk through Komiža.
Eat in Hvar.
Swim.
Rent scooters.
Find restaurants.
See the towns.
Talk to people.
Sit somewhere that isn’t gently rocking beneath you.
The irony of Yacht Week is that one of the best ways to enjoy it is knowing when to leave the yacht.
The Boat Circle
Eventually, the fleet gathered together again for one of Yacht Week’s signature events:
The boat circle.
Dozens of yachts formed one enormous floating gathering.
By this point, we’d spent nearly a week traveling alongside the same people.
The strangers from Split weren’t strangers anymore.
We’d sailed together.
Partied together.
Watched the World Cup together.
Survived Komiža together.
And somehow survived Hvar together.
Now everyone was gathered on the water one more time.
Then came the regatta.
The Regatta
As everyone left Palmižana, the week suddenly transformed into something resembling an actual sailing competition.
The regatta was the final great event before returning to Split.
After six days in which our primary sailing qualifications consisted of knowing where the cooler was located, everyone suddenly became intensely competitive.
Sails went up.
Crews dressed up.
Skippers took over.
And everyone desperately wanted to win.
After a week built around destinations and parties, ending it by actually racing the boats felt perfect.
Night 7: Split
Eventually, we returned to Split.
There was one final party.
Allegedly.
At this point, the real competition wasn’t the regatta.
It was whether your body could survive Night Seven.
If you’ve made it through Split, Vis, Fort George, Komiža, Šćedro, the USA–Belgium match, Hvar, the boat circle and the regatta and you’re still ready to go out one more time:
Congratulations.
You have defeated Yacht Week.
The rest of us were simply attempting to remain functional human beings.
What I’d Do Differently
Looking back at Yacht Week more than a decade later, there are a few things I’d tell anyone considering something similar.
Provision the boat, but don’t buy a week’s worth of elaborate meals.
Eat out.
You’re in Croatia.
Get off the boat as much as possible.
Take care of your skipper.
Spend money on experiences rather than trying to live aboard the yacht 24 hours a day.
And if you have the opportunity to sleep in a hotel halfway through the week?
Take it.
You’ll understand when you get there.
The Part Nobody Puts in the Brochure
The Yacht Week is incredible.
It’s also uncomfortable.
Both things can be true.
The boats are cramped.
It’s hot.
People get seasick.
Bathrooms become increasingly unpleasant.
Privacy essentially doesn’t exist.
Sleep becomes a theoretical concept.
Eventually, almost everything you own feels slightly damp.
You’re basically camping.
Except your campsite costs considerably more money and occasionally moves violently enough to make you sick.
Would I do it again?
At that age, at that moment in my life?
Absolutely.
That’s part of what made it memorable.
Croatia Was Never Just the Backdrop
What surprised me most was how much I loved Croatia itself.
The Adriatic is spectacular.
The water is impossibly blue.
The islands are rugged and green.
Ancient stone towns rise directly from the sea.
Roman, Venetian, British, Austrian and Yugoslav history appears everywhere.
Even during a trip built largely around partying, Croatia kept pulling our attention away from the party.
Vis wasn’t memorable only because of Fort George.
It was the scooters and military tunnels.
Šćedro wasn’t memorable because someone built an enormous nightclub there.
It was memorable precisely because nobody had.
Fifty boats arrived in a tiny cove.
We watched the United States play Belgium in the World Cup.
Then everyone climbed aboard everyone else’s yachts.
And somewhere along the way, the entire fleet became friends.
Final Thoughts
The Yacht Week was one of those travel experiences that belonged to a particular moment in my life.
Seven days.
Dozens of boats.
Hundreds of strangers.
Very little sleep.
Split.
Vis.
Komiža.
Šćedro.
Palmižana.
Hvar.
And somehow back to Split.
I remember Fort George.
I remember riding scooters around Vis.
I remember the submarine tunnels.
I remember the misery of trying to sleep on a rocking yacht.
I remember the absolute luxury of walking into a hotel room in Hvar.
I remember Tim Howard seemingly stopping everything Belgium kicked toward him while we watched from a tiny island in Croatia.
And I remember Šćedro.
Fifty boats in one cove.
Boat hopping under the Croatian sky.
People who had been complete strangers a few days earlier suddenly acting like we’d known each other for years.
The pictures make Yacht Week look glamorous.
The reality was hotter, smellier, more exhausting and considerably more uncomfortable.
It was glorified camping while occasionally seasick.
And it was absolutely unforgettable.
Because ultimately, The Yacht Week wasn’t really about the yacht.
It was about everything that happened when we got off it.
