We visited the island of Brusnik! This is worth experiencing at least once in your life!

Somewhere out at sea, where the Adriatic becomes serious, where the waves no longer caress but warn, there stands a black stone. Alone, surrounded by endless space. No pines, no song of cicadas, not even a trace of shade. Only sea, rock, silence, and Brusnik.

We set off from the island of Vis, more precisely from Komiža, early in the morning, before the sun had fully climbed into the sky. It was a planned trip to Svetac, a private island owned by the Zanki family, but that story is for another time. The departure had been arranged with Mr. Pijerino Ivčević, whose wife is herself a member of the Zanki family. This was a long-awaited excursion, a dream I had ever since the summer of 2004 when I first set foot on this island. Exactly twenty years later, that dream finally came true.

That morning, the sea was calm, but the captain warned it might only stay that way until noon. He said Brusnik does not like visitors. It is not for everyone. There are no docks, no safety, only a bare rock that breathes differently from any other in the Adriatic.

Brusnik, Photo: Adria.fun

And so, an hour and a half later, in the distance, amidst a sea of color, there it was. Black. As if someone had forgotten about this island, leaving it mismatched among the surrounding mosaic of limestone islands. No sandy coves, no green treetops. Only glossy, dark stone that resembles hardened lava.

Although many believe that Brusnik, like the infamous Jabuka, is of volcanic origin, those who know it well, who have observed it up close for years, would not agree, says Mr. Pijerino.

Brusnik, Photo: Adria.fun

We approached carefully, and with respect. From the boat, a direct leap onto the first rock. With the very first step, the stone shows you who is in charge — slippery, sharp, unfamiliar. It feels like it is not from this world. I thought, if someone were to teleport it to Mars right now, it would not seem out of place.

Brusnik is harsh but precious. And beyond the rocks, something lives here that exists nowhere else. Tiny lizards, endemic to this place, hide in crevices, adapted to a world without water, where the sun is relentless and the sea is always just a few steps away, yet useless for thirst. Still, in this harshness, some small life persists, says Pijerino. They once tried bringing rabbits here, but of course, it ended tragically.

Brusnik, Photo: Adria.fun

We made our way through the even rockier center of the island toward the black cove, the only one on this tiny islet. Along the way, the island revealed its little lake, carefully collecting water for the driest of days.

The view from the highest point of the island unveiled a sea that no longer recognizes the shore. A full 360-degree panorama of blue, and in the distance, the silhouette of Svetac, another lonely island.

Here on Brusnik, the world seems to fall silent. No tourists, no litter. Everything looks as if it has remained untouched for thousands of years. And perhaps it has. We had truly come to the island with a mission, to collect only what the sea had brought in, a piece of fishing net, some styrofoam, or similar debris, but not to touch a single stone or shell.

After we reached the cove, it was finally time to cool off…

Brusnik, Photo: Adria.fun

But we did not stay long. The sea had already started to shift. And as we were leaving, I looked back once more. Brusnik was still the same, silent, dark, magnificent. As if it had not even noticed our arrival. And it probably hadn’t.

On the way back from Svetac to Vis, as the boat cut through the waves, I turned toward it once again and thought:

“BRUSNIK IS NOT AN ISLAND TO BE CONQUERED. IT DOES NOT OFFER YOU A HAND. IT DOES NOT SEDUCE, DOES NOT CHARM. IT MERELY ALLOWS YOU TO GLANCE AT IT BRIEFLY AS IF SHOWING YOU SOME FORGOTTEN SIDE OF THE ADRIATIC. AND THEN IT CLOSES. ALONE AGAIN. ITSELF AGAIN… I HOPE TO VISIT IT ONCE MORE SOMEDAY.”

A trip to Biševo? The Blue Cave, a sandy beach and the best tuna steak await you