In Slovenia, we have at least as many sailors navigating the world's seas and oceans as we have fingers on both hands. One of them is our own Sasho Kavs.

Navtika Plus

SLIKA

This man, now in his late seventies, whose life on the boat has rejuvenated him by at least ten years, has tried many things. In his prime years, he went to America and found a job there. He moved to the mainland, but he was drawn to the sea. Rather than skiing on the surrounding hills, he preferred sailing, participating in regattas, and delivering boats. Eventually, he decided to live on a boat. Thus, in 2019, we met in Fiji, on Malolo Lailai Island. Good-natured and always smiling, he invited me aboard his catamaran when we were anchored next to each other. With his wife Jennie, they treated me like an old friend, even though we had just met. During my few months in Fiji, we saw each other a few more times, and I learned a lot from him. He also shared some pieces of his colorful life story with me. I wrote something about him in my book "Islands of Sandy Beaches," and he also told me more in this interview.

Sasho is a person whose different life from people on the mainland proves that age and retired status do not mean that one must withdraw within the four walls of their home.

N+: Perhaps it's already a cliché, but I can't bypass this question. When did you first encounter sailing?

My first encounter with boats and later with sailing happened on dry land, within the wider family circle. Ales Zupancic was married to my cousin and was friends with my brother Marko. In the sixties of the last century, he started building a boat. He got the mold of a French sailboat, Armagnac, and three boats were cast from it, the other two being built by Igor Koman and Dare Gorjan. At first, I went to see how they were built, and later I also picked up some tools and joined them a bit in the work. I proved myself enough that they took me on the crew, and after two years, when the boat was ready, we sailed together in regattas. Oh, I have such fond memories of those times, sailing on Barkovljanka in the Trieste Gulf, regattas in Koper, Izola, and Portoroz. We even went across to Istria, to Rovinj, Pula, Umag, and all the way to the Kvarner regattas near Rijeka. That's when I also joined the sailing club Bohinj. Ales and a few other enthusiasts built fifteen mini 12 type sailboats, which are now based on Lake Bohinj. Those were the years of self-building.

N+: What about your first boat?

I didn't own my own boat until 2004 when I bought Levana. It was an Island Packet 420 model, which had been declared the sailboat of the year in the American magazine Sail a year or two earlier. I chose for a long time before deciding on it. I even went to test a smaller model 370 first because my initial intention was to have a sailboat up to 36 feet that I could easily handle alone. But they also had the 420 model in the charter fleet in St. Thomas, and I was immediately happy with it, so I rented it for the next vacation. I had a few simple conditions: a full keel with an extension for rudder support, a split rig (cutter rig) so that you have two smaller sails in front rather than one large one, and of course, all control lines led to the cockpit. What attracted me most to this boat was its solid construction, for which sailboats from the Island Packet manufacturer are known.

SLIKA

N+: Not many are aware that you resided and worked in the United States, where you were also part of a sailing club in Boston. What activities were you involved in while living there?

The Boston Sailing Club had a fleet of Solings at that time; these boats used to be an Olympic class. The Boston Harbor, with its wide entrance channel and small islands, is perfect for regattas. The Friday regattas took place all year round, and in winter, we called them frostbiting. They were named this way because the sea in the harbor doesn't freeze due to the warm environment, but your breath does when you exhale (frostbite). In regattas, you refine your knowledge of the rules so you can use them to your advantage. Competing with radio-controlled models also helped me a lot. I was also a member of the Marblehead Rotary Club, and we had Sunday regattas on a pond in Marblehead. The same regatta rules applied as on the sea, but the course around was more like four lengths instead of two. The 940 class (named after the length of the model, 940 mm) was quite widespread in America, and we even had a national association that organized national championships in various locations. Navigational regattas with large sailboats are also very interesting, as weather knowledge plays a significant role – having a good weather forecast can mean the difference between winning and losing. My brother Marko had a very light H800 sailboat, with which he easily won local regattas, especially in calm conditions. He would light a cigarette and hold it like a wind vane.

"I spent the whole night fixing the sail, which had become entangled with the sheets while furling, creating a balloon that would have surely torn apart in the wind by morning."

N+: You mentioned that you bought your boat in 2004. What does it feel like to have your own boat after so many years?

It's really hard to describe. It was an infinite satisfaction, a special feeling of the first step, which began long ago when I set the goal to sail through the Panama Canal into the Pacific Ocean. The sailboat was quite well-equipped; I took possession of it in Oxford at the top of the Chesapeake Bay and brought it to Norfolk in two days, where I docked it for a while. The fact that I was well-prepared for this journey is also evidenced by the fact that I had the image of the Greek god of winds, Aeolus, tattooed on my forearm. Then I gathered some friends, sailors; there were five of us in total – even my brother Marko flew in from Slovenia to help. I rented a one-way van from Boston to Norfolk, and in October 2004, we set sail on a 1400 nautical mile journey to St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands. We had about 600 liters of fuel, which of course wasn't enough for motoring the entire length of the journey. We needed wind for at least three days of sailing to reach the destination in a straight line; otherwise, we would have had to make a big detour to Bermuda to refuel. Because we crossed the Gulf Stream, I obtained a nautical chart with the positions of the so-called eddies (vortex in the stream), so we utilized their rotation and sailed through them on the side that added a knot or two to our speed. We were lucky that the wind blew after we crossed the Sargasso Sea, so we arrived at our destination after a week.

N+: Did you choose the name Levana randomly, or were you looking for a deeper meaning?

The name of the boat must be easy to pronounce and understandable so that it is clear even through a crackling radio connection, without the need for additional spelling. Just imagine trying to explain a name like Gratatuille over a bad radio connection. I once met a sailboat with that name in the harbor of Hilo in Hawaii. Or Sjostrom, the name of a Swedish town, where my friend Doni is from. He sails the Pacific with his 30-meter schooner. Yes, I thought long before it dawned on me. I have a grandson named Lev and a granddaughter named Ana, so I combined both names, and there you have Levana. Interestingly, Ana's mother asked if the name would be spelled as LevAna. So, when I chose the name, I wondered if it had any other meaning. I did a bit of research and discovered that it is also part of the Latin name of a butterfly, which has the Slovenian name koprivov pajcevinar and the Latin name Araschnia levana. So, I ordered a white spinnaker and had the image of this butterfly painted on it. To further confirm the name, I added Levana to the tattoo of Aeolus on my forearm.

N+: Since you worked in the USA, you also sailed extensively in the Caribbean. Were you so captivated by it, or was it mainly because of the good sailing conditions?

In the Caribbean, I first sailed in 1984 on a 45-foot ketch with a captain and a cook. Yes, the Virgin Islands captivated me then because of their beauty and the simplicity of life. The islands are close to each other, and sailing between them is quite easy, mainly due to the constant trade winds, so you always know what to expect. In the early nineties, my period of chartering sailboats began. At first, I stuck to the Virgin Islands and explored the beauties of St. Croix, Anegada, Jost Van Dyke with the famous Soggy Dollar Bar, and especially the Puerto Rican Vieques after the US Navy withdrew from it. Later, I gathered courage and ventured more eastward. The Caribbean is fascinating because of its diversity. Almost every little island is its own country with its flag - I have a collection of all of them in the Leeward chain, except I never managed to get to Barbados.

N+: You live on a boat. What is life like living aboard?

My greatest discovery while living on a sailboat was realizing how little you truly need in life. The entire area of Levana is around 40 square meters, and on this space, Jennie and I lived for six years. Comfortable? Yes, quite. A terrace with such a view is not easily found. And you take it with you wherever you go. The sailboat becomes your home; you get to know every corner of it, you crawl into cramped spaces to fix a faulty water pump switch, you change drainage pipes because they've accumulated too much calcium, and so on. You learn tricks on how to store food for long journeys, where the best corners on the boat are for a comfortable rest during night watch, and the greatest value is that you meet people from all corners of the world who live the same life as you. Through this, you form friendships that remain alive long after you no longer meet in person, as our paths diverged, and we sailed on, each on our own path.

SLIKA

N+: In your youth, you promised yourself that one day you would visit the Marquesas Islands. Is the reason rooted in an unfinished narrative from a book you read, or is it simply a sailing desire?

Exactly. Of course, everyone knows Herman Melville's book Moby Dick, but fewer people are aware of his first book, written in 1846, titled Typee. Melville was a sailor, and his ship stopped at the island of Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas Islands. He and a friend escaped from the ship, were captured by the locals, and lived among them for some time. He had a girlfriend, maybe even more than one, because love was quite free in the Typee Valley. But even he had had enough, and one day he managed to escape from the island. However, he never reveals the real reason why he fled in the book. And that’s when I told myself that when I grew up, I would go to the Marquesas Islands and find out the real reason. So, fifty years later, I sailed off to explore the matter.

I found the valley, anchored Levana in its bay, and set off in a dinghy up the calm river. The valley is truly beautiful. The river, more of a stream, has numerous pools and ends with a waterfall that supplies water from the plateau above the valley. Everywhere there are plantations of tropical fruit, and everything is decorated with flowers. Later, in the harbor, I met an expert in tattoos, a taxi driver, a guitarist, a music teacher, a bandleader—all in one person. And he took me, this time by road, to the Tai Pi Valley where he lives. He revealed Melville's secret to me. More so than today, the locals used to be tattooed from head to toe, and thus Herman found himself facing the choice of either getting tattooed or being eaten. Back then, the Marquesans were still cannibals. Neither option appealed to him, so he fled. With this realization, my curiosity was satisfied.

N+: The sailing route from Polynesia runs westward. However, you sailed north, from paradise to Hawaii. Was it for tourism or curiosity?

Well, for some, Hawaii is also paradise. Perhaps a bit different, but still full of beauty and wonder. On the largest Hawaiian island, Hawaii, there's even the tallest mountain in the world, Mauna Kea, if you measure its height from the base, which is deep beneath the ocean's surface. For most tourists, Hawaii is wonderful, and the most populated island is Oahu, where the world-famous Waikiki Beach is located. But if you go to the island of Kauai, you will discover the extraordinary natural beauty of these islands and will surely conclude that Hawaii is also a paradise island.

"The entire area of Levana is around 40 square meters, and on this space, Jennie and I lived for six years. Comfortable? Yes, quite. A terrace with such a view is not easily found."

SLIKA

N+: Considering that you returned to Polynesia, can I assume that it impressed you more than Hawaii?

Once is never enough. The first time, we sailed from the Marquesas to Tahiti through a few atolls in the Tuamotu chain. From Raiatea in the Society Islands, we sailed straight to Hawaii, which was a three-week voyage. On the way to Hawaii, heading south, there are a number of interesting islands where we stopped and met new friends, such as Fanning Island, part of the Republic of Kiribati, and Penrhyn Atoll, which belongs to the Cook Islands. I could write a whole book about these experiences.

But on our first voyage to Tahiti, we wanted to see Heiva - a competition of Polynesian island groups in dance, singing, and drumming. The goal of returning to Polynesia was once again the Marquesas, where a similar event was scheduled. So, we set off to explore the Tuamotu Archipelago and found our piece of paradise on Tahanea Atoll. The uninhabited atoll was just ours, with a small motu, a little island with palm trees, a natural lagoon for swimming, and not a soul in sight. We enjoyed this fairytale for two weeks before it was time to leave. On the way, we also stopped at Raroia Atoll, where there's a memorial plaque for Thor Heyerdahl, who arrived there with the Kon-Tiki raft from South America. After the festival in the Marquesas, we made a quick twelve-day passage back to Hawaii. When you're on a boat, you're free and can sail anywhere, even to the same place multiple times.

SLIKA

N+: You sailed your yacht to Fiji, and even though it served you well, you sold it. Why?

I didn't sell Levana, but I traded her for Quixotic, a catamaran whose previous owners, Lewis and Alyssa, I first met on Nuku Hiva. I met them on other Pacific islands and even attended their wedding on the Fijian island of Taveuni. After satisfying my curiosity about Melville, I was mainly looking for a more permanent place under the sun. Fiji ended up at the top of the list - beautiful nature, incredibly friendly Fijians, an archipelago with more than 300 islands where you can get completely lost, yet have direct flights from Nadi to all four corners of the earth. Above all, I wanted to stay on the water and engage in something that brings me joy, which is sailing.

N+: Now you are the proud owner of a catamaran and have decided to venture into the business of crewed yacht charters, a direction that brings you joy. Do you still think you made the right decision?

I am not a major entrepreneur. However, Jenny and I decided to engage in renting out our yacht with a crew for charter. This decision was made in 2019, six months before the start of the Covid story. There were a few charters in January 2020, but then everything came to a halt. They even canceled cruising permits, so all foreign ships remained in marinas. But our Quixotic sails under the Fijian flag, so we could sail everywhere without restrictions. Of course, without guests. In March 2020, my grandson Lev came to visit for three weeks. That's when the lockdowns began, and he couldn't return to the USA until July. The best vacation of his life! In 2022, the borders opened, tourists started coming back, and business is booming again. So, the answer to your question is: Yes, I made the right decision.

N+: I remember our conversation on the stern of the catamaran when you told me you would stay in Fiji forever. Have these islands captivated you so much? What is so special about them?

The year 2004, when I bought Levano, was the last year I went skiing, or rather snowboarding. Although it was only an hour from my house in Massachusetts to the nearest ski resort, it was a whole day's journey with two or even three flights to get to Levane. Since I sailed out of the Caribbean, I haven't seen winter anymore and don't want to. My bones have acclimatized to the tropical climate here around the 18th parallel south latitude, and I'm quite happy with it, and the local economy suits me too.

N+: Would you introduce your activity to the readers and invite them to visit you on these paradise islands?

Years ago, I think about twenty, two charter companies, Moorings and SunSail, started with bareboat charters in Fiji. It lasted only one season. Fijian waters, as you know, are full of reefs. Too many boats ran aground, and maintenance was impossible, so both companies moved from that location. Even now, with improved navigation systems and many sailors using satellite images that show shallow areas, many still run aground. It has happened to me too, but because I thought I knew everything and didn't need to track my position on the map anymore. It teaches you that you can never be too confident. As for the activity, I recommend visiting our website www.quixoticcharters.com, where you can find all the details about the boat, our cruise destinations, the gastronomic offer led by Jennie, water sports equipment, and most importantly, there are also reviews from our guests written on TripAdvisor or Google Charts. Of course, prices are also published there.

SLIKA

N+: Like all sailors, you remember your difficult moments, but there are certainly many beautiful memories as well...

Of course, I have them, like every sailor. Perhaps I would highlight my most beautiful and at the same time challenging sail, a nineteen-day voyage from the Marshall Islands to nearly 2000 nautical miles away in Fiji, when I sailed alone on Levana. All night, I was struggling with the sail, which had gotten tangled during furling, creating a balloon that would surely have torn apart in the wind by morning. I had to take both sheets to the bow and pass them around the sail until I reached the fold where they were caught. And all this amidst lightning, thunder, and torrents of water pouring from the clouds. It's hard to describe the feelings of the next morning when, after a sleepless night, I faced the sun peeking out from behind the heavy clouds. I admit, I wasn't entirely alone on the boat; I had a companion, a crew member who doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't complain, and yet steers the boat beautifully. Of course, it was my wind vane, my great navigator.

N+: What are your plans for the future? Will you continue sailing or perhaps settle on land on one of the Fijian islands?

I will sail as long as I can still spin in the wind. The sea, the wind, the waves... once you feel that you are a part of it, you can't get out.

N+: Do you have any advice for our readers who hesitate to sail beyond the Adriatic Sea?

If you're thinking about exploring the world by sailboat, I have some advice: stop thinking and go! Stop reading about other people's adventures, instead, gather experiences and write your own. I know the decision is difficult, but after the first step, everything gets easier. How to make the decision? My friend Rick Page wrote a book called "Get Real, Get Gone," which you can find on Amazon. It will help you a lot.

SLIKA