Yesterday was a fantastic sun-and-warmth day. Lots of relaxed people about, lightly clothed, stroller-pushing, wandering gently to the other end of the pier and back, pavement restaurants and cafés doing a great trade.
Me? I went for a fender-hunt. Yesterday’s post about disasters wasn’t quite complete. It started earlier! I was almost too embarrassed to admit to leaving the taking-in of fenders until we were well out in the wind-against-current choppy waves, (my feeble excuse is that I was trying to keep out of the way of the high-speed ferry and the normal ferry at the same time), and when I finally went forward, there the fender wasn’t.
But first the good news. Priority after breakfast was the cabin heater. Gained access by emptying the port cockpit locker, where it is in-accessibly placed (for a many-year-old with two artificial knees) up under the gunwhale. Thinks. Do I really need to dismantle the thing? Could at least try one start, couldn’t I? with my ear placed as close as possible to analyse any strange noises. Press start button. Hasten to uncomfortable listening position. Wait. Normal noises only. Still only normal noises. Up to full speed and still only normal noises. Hurra! Let it run for a while, then stop. Waited half an hour. Press start. Only normal noises again. Hurra again! I cease to speculate upon what had caused the original problem, and optimistically conclude that it has gone away and won’t happen again.
Fender hunt: There are several boat-things places here in Bodø, one south of the harbour, fairly close, and the others north. I started south, walking, with sticks for better speed and endurance. “Fenders? Yes sir, over here on the wall, our large selection, which one would suit your need?”. Except, of course, not the size I have standardised on. Bad luck. Change direction to north. Walk, with sticks. Retrace steps. Onward, through the shopping center, past and then into, an aromatic bakery with five (!) different sorts of sourdough bread. Bought the brownest. Onward, past the somnolent railway station, and the even more silent Hurtigruten (coastal steamer) quay. Then at last, at least several Km later, or so it seemed in the bright sunshine, arrived at an anonymous building with several camper vans outside. Well the building’s name did also include the word “boat”, so this must be it. One elderly gent, specs perched on the end of his adequate nose, half asleep behind the desk and his computer screen. Immediate attention at the sound of the door bing-bong. Fenders? Shelves of them, in a small department for boating things. Camper vans do not need fenders, do they? Found what measured to be approximately the right size, but in deflated shape. “Just a minute Sir, I’ll start the compressor”. Due to the air nozzle being a poor fit, most of the air escaped with intense whistles and squeaks, but in the end, “There we are Sir, right size? This what you are looking for?” Perfect thankyou! Wave plastic. Er, du you have a piece of string? I had foreseen that walking with sticks would make carrying a substantial fender difficult, so I had taken my backpack along. Small backpack, large fender. Several pieces of string and secure knots later, thankyou to a most helpful storekeeper, I returned to the town, gathering amused glances, along the several Km.
Past that bakery again. Ah! I surely deserved a coffee and a sticky bun. Most enjoyable. Then back through the shopping center, more amused glances, to the boat. Subsided into welcoming Josin’s cockpit, undid and cut string, and hung up new fender in old position. Re-load everything back into locker. Mission accomplished! Relax for most of the rest of the day.
But today is the stark contrast from yesterday. Rain, the very wet sort, low cloud, little wind, 11 degrees. An indoor day. After breakfast, with extra coffee, write blog. Sorry, no pictures.
Tomorrow, VHF doctor.
Alls as well as can be expected.
Josin's 2025 cruise 