What is better: an evening in a harbor or a quiet night at anchor? Werner shares why both belong to a sailing week in Croatia and why he personally tends to prefer the bay.
There are evenings on a sailing trip that could hardly be more different.
One day, we arrive at a small Croatian harbor. The boats lie close together, people stroll along the waterfront, voices drift over from the restaurants, and somewhere nearby glasses are clinking. We go ashore, perhaps have dinner at a restaurant, and spend the evening right in the heart of the village. The next day can feel completely different.
We are anchored in a quiet bay. No harbor, no promenade, and perhaps only a handful of other boats around us. As the evening goes on, everything becomes quieter. You hear the water gently lapping against the hull, sit outside long into the evening, and look up at a sky that seems completely different without the glow of a town. I enjoy both. But if I have the choice, I usually prefer the bay.
I certainly do not want to dismiss harbors. Quite the opposite: there are several small Croatian harbor towns where I really enjoy spending time. Komiža on Vis is one of them. Maslinica on Šolta is another. Places like these are a welcome contrast to nights spent in quiet bays. Once the boat is moored, you can step ashore, wander through the narrow streets, stop for a drink, or enjoy dinner at a restaurant.
Especially when the crew feels like spending a pleasant evening ashore or exploring a little, a harbor stop is simply part of the experience for me. Maslinica is a good example. It is a small, compact village, with the harbor right at its heart and several restaurants nearby. Above the village lies Restaurant Šampjer, with wide views across the sea and the islands offshore. I enjoy evenings like these too. And after a few days spent mostly on board, it can be nice to have a little more life around you again.

A harbor also means one thing: you are rarely alone. Especially during the season, boats can be moored very close together. Your neighbor may be sitting in the cockpit only a few meters away. You hear conversations, music, engines, or people walking along the pier.
If you are moored directly along a town quay or harbor wall, there may be activity just behind the stern until late in the evening. That does not necessarily have to be a problem. It is simply part of harbor life. If you enjoy being close to the action, that is exactly the appeal. You step off the boat and you are immediately in the village. Restaurants, bars, and small shops are just a few steps away. There is no need to take the dinghy ashore, and you can return to the boat whenever you like.
But privacy is another matter. A large part of life on a catamaran takes place outside. We sit in the cockpit, on the flybridge, or on the foredeck. If the next boat is moored right beside us, you inevitably share part of that atmosphere with your neighbors.

In a bay, the feeling changes completely. As soon as the engine is switched off and the boat settles into place, a different part of the day begins for me.
There may be a few other boats in the bay. Sometimes only one or two. But even when several boats are anchored nearby, there is usually far more space between them than in a harbor. And for me, that sense of space makes a huge difference. No one is walking directly behind the boat. No neighbor is sitting almost within arm’s reach of our cockpit. You can lean back and suddenly feel as if you are right in the middle of the landscape. Sometimes we go for another swim. Sometimes nothing much happens at all. And for me, that “nothing” is often one of the best parts of a sailing trip.

Spending the night in a bay does not automatically mean staying on board all evening.
If there is a restaurant nearby, we take the dinghy ashore. For me, that is just as much a part of a sailing holiday. You do not arrive by taxi and step out in front of the restaurant. Instead, you leave your own boat, cross the bay in the dinghy, and return the same way after dinner. That makes the whole experience feel completely different from a normal evening out on land. And if there is no restaurant nearby, we simply eat on board. I enjoy that just as much.

The table is set in the cockpit, the sea is right beside us, and no one needs to go anywhere else. Afterwards, we simply stay where we are. You do not need a programme every evening.
During the day, bays can be lively too. Excursion boats come and go, people swim, dinghies move between the boats, and popular spots can get quite busy. But as evening approaches, the atmosphere changes. The day visitors leave, some yachts move on, and the noise slowly fades away. That is when my favourite part begins. We sit outside, talk, and at some point almost the only sound left is the water. If the sky is clear, we may spend a long time lying on the foredeck and looking up at the stars. You do not have to do anything. You do not have to go anywhere. And you do not have to think about when it is time to head back to the boat — you are already there.
What I especially enjoy about spending the night in a bay is the next morning.
I am an early riser, and one of the first things I do after getting up is take my coffee outside. The bay is still quiet, the sun is just beginning to rise over the hills or the horizon, and the water is often almost perfectly still. The day has not really started yet. Sitting there with a coffee before any activity begins feels like pure luxury to me. In a harbor, the town gradually comes to life. Suppliers arrive, people walk along the pier, neighboring boats prepare to leave, and somewhere someone may already be working on their boat.
In a quiet bay, the morning can begin almost silently. And those moments are one of the reasons I enjoy anchoring so much.

Even though my personal preference is clear, I would never turn it into a rule for our guests. A good sailing week is all about variety. A night in a quiet bay can be fantastic. But two days later, it can be just as enjoyable to arrive in Komiža, wander through the town, and have dinner ashore. Or to stay in Maslinica simply because we like the place.
There are also a few harbors where I am perfectly happy to spend a day or two, for example if the weather is not ideal, without feeling bored. Maslinica is one of those places for me. I like the combination of the small harbor, the compact village, the restaurants, and the surrounding landscape. It feels very different from a large marina or a busy town harbor.
And that is exactly why, for me, the question “harbor or anchor?” is actually the wrong one.
It does not have to be one or the other.

The much more important question is: what do we feel like doing today?
Do we want to go ashore in the evening, wander through a town, and have dinner at a restaurant? Then a harbor may be exactly right. Do we simply want peace and quiet after a day of sailing, perhaps go for a swim, eat on board, and spend the evening under the open sky? Then we look for a suitable bay. That can change several times during a week.
And that is exactly why I do not believe in planning every evening in detail months before a trip. Of course, we have an idea of the route. We know which islands and places could be interesting. But the weather, the conditions, and the wishes of the crew all play a part. Sometimes the harbor we originally had in mind is exactly the right choice. And sometimes we are lying in a beautiful bay in the afternoon and simply ask ourselves: why should we move on?
If I get to decide, the answer is quite clear. I prefer to anchor, provided the conditions are right. I like the peace and quiet, the distance from other boats, and the feeling of no longer being in the middle of a town in the evening. I enjoy sitting outside for a long time, looking up at the stars, and having my first coffee the next morning while the bay is still quiet.
That does not mean I want to avoid harbors. Quite the opposite. A small harbor such as Maslinica or Komiža can be exactly the right place for an evening, or even for a couple of days. But if we find a beautiful, sheltered bay, the conditions are right, and no one on board is particularly keen to go into town, I usually do not need much time to decide. Then we stay.

And very often it is exactly these evenings that one remembers with particular fondness after a sailing week.