Hrvatska to Hoboken

Our evening walk started as usual, but as we were on our sit-and-stare-at-lower-Manhattan-as-the-sun-sets break on Pier A half-way through our walk, something happened that has never happened in our 9.5 years of going “walk-walk” (that’s Miha’s command to go get his leash): we had comprehension! As a poodle puppy ran up to Miha to play, the owner asked what my dog’s name was. I reluctantly responded, “Miha” and proceeded to prepare myself for one of the typical responses:

If they speak Spanish, then the response is always: “You mean ‘Mi ijo,’ right!?!” The Spanish phrase for “my daughter” is “mi ija” (when you say it quickly, it sounds the same as “Miha,” which means Mikey in most Slavic and Germanic languages) and “mi ijo” is Spanish for “my son.” I’m always getting lectured that I’m stupid and shouldn’t use a Spanish name unless I understand how to use it properly. Years ago, I gave up trying to explain that there are actually other languages in this great big world of ours... If they don’t speak Spanish, the response is usually something like: “What?” or “Meeko?” or “Neeko?” or “Meathook?” or “Peanut?” (actual responses!)...

In any case, today was different. For the first time in more than 9 years, the response was actually, “I have a friend from Slovenia with that name.” I was flabbergasted! A 30-minute conversation ensued. Not only has she heard of the tiny country (and DIDN’T confuse it with Slovakia!), she’d actually even been there. Even more impressive, she properly pronounced Slovenia’s capital city (Ljubljana). It turns out she has some Croatian roots (Slovenia’s neighbor to the South) and toured that part of Europe as a professional violinist. I was surprised that she wasn’t aware of the association between our town and Croatia (“Hrvatska” in Croatian), so I filled her in...



The Croatian island of Susak has a strange connection with Hoboken, NJ (it’s not documented very well, so please let me know if you know more). From what I understand, about 90% of Susak’s 1600 residents left the island around the time of the 2nd World War. Most of them headed for Hoboken, NJ, and it’s rumored that they became very successful. The island was left with less than 200 residents. In later years, a small number of them returned to the island (which explains the odd Joisy-Croatian accent), but the population is still very low.



Coincidentally, I was sailing the Croatian Adriatic exactly one year ago and visited Susak (which is why I just happen to have photos of Susak). The island is essentially a big sand dune and is quite primitive. No cars, only stone and dirt walking roads. There are a couple of tiny eateries, a general store (about the size of my living room), a post office (that also offers every other municipal service that’s required by Croatian law), and of course, a church. A ferry comes about twice a day to transport people and goods. Prior to its arrival, the island’s inhabitants push wheelbarrows down to the end of the stone pier to meet the ferry. They load up random supplies and luggage (and even the elderly) onto the wheelbarrows or tracker-pulled trailers, and they’re off. There’s also a special boat that regularly delivers fresh water to the island, which is pumped through a hose (as you can see in the photo below) that zig-zags around the village’s streets to some secret location. In fact, I could swear I heard someone say, "His family comes from the other side of the hose."



Susak isn’t exactly a tourist island (the nearby island of Mali Lošinj and coastal town of Pula are very tourist friendly, and I highly recommend them over the typical European destinations! Check out the Croatian National Tourist Board), especially the aerial photos of Susak). In Susak, however, the ability to speak some Croatian is very helpful.



There’s just a small harbor to moor a few sailboats and yachts. We climbed to the top of the island (above photo) and got special access to the island’s lighthouse (our captains knew the keepers). This photo is from the lighthouse:



We had the two tall sailboats—Katrinka (left), Barbara (right):



Barbara navigating the storm:



One of our captains, Tine:



That's me, getting ready to “help” with the sails.



Each day when you walk the waterfront promenade in Hoboken, you can definitely hear a minimum of German and Italian being spoken. If you listen really closely (they don’t speak as loudly as the Germans or Italians), you can occasionally still hear Croatian.


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