Month: August 2020

88 days, 1673 nautical miles, to Tromsø and back. A leisurely summer, largely due to the (cheating) start this year. Plenty of time, null distance-stress. Plenty of non-summer weather, but august has been much better, and will hopefully form the lasting memory.

So, the last miles, from Sandøy to Finnøy to Ålesund. A very short motor to Finnøy, (63 48.1 , 6 30.4), in calm, grey, drizzly weather over a multi-marked calm sea. Careful navigation necessary.

Only one other boat at the guest pontoon. A splendid new building housing the local boating club and its facilities, and in the one end, in a glassed-in room, was a clenodium.

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A two-cylinder 250 horsepower marine engine, from 1935, the best preserved of over 650 engines built by “Finnøy Lars” and his factory, here on Finnøy, from 1905 to 1975. This poor motorman just had to stare through the glass and admire. Just to give you an idea of size, each barrel is about the same diameter as a forty-gallon oil drum. Whoomf, whoomf. The placard said it had logged over 100 000 hours. Now there’s reliability for you.

Forecast for friday was for a gradually-increasing north-westerly wind, so we stared early to avoid the blow. Overcast again, and almost drizzling, we motored until the wind came in, from a tantalising fine angle. Sails up, which helped a little. On the way the route goes through Lausund, (62 35.5 , 6 15.3), a narrow channel through shallows, where a new bridge is being built, between stone-filled-in-between-islands.

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Pillars almost ready, each one with its long-armed mobile crane. Wonder how they got them there? Lift to the top is via mobile crane!

Our course and the wind angle became friendlier and we sailed most of the rest of the way to Ålesund. On approaching the harbour entrance, from a rather, with hindsight, too-fine angle, Josin was called up on the VHF by Gabrielle, (or something like it). Oops! Whatthe…. Dive for the VHFmike. “Josin answering”. “Can you let us to exit the harbour before you enter?” “Affirmative”. So full speed and a 180 degree turn, and a high-speed ferry emerged from behind the large building on the end of the harbour wall. Hadn’t seen him move on AIS, thought he was stationary, and I was all busy thinking about ropes and fenders and which side and where. Bad. Lesson: Approach harbour with better sight into the entrance, cos its also the exit.

A badly-slept night on one of the guest pontoons, much pitching from the rollers coming straight in, whipped up by the NW wind. Decided to leave, and as it was a day before we were due at Mauseidvågen, where Josin will stay the winter, we’d take a sight-seeing trip in Hjørungfjord. Very impressive. Enormous mountains plunging straight down into the water, and very few places for habitation. If you squint hard you maybe can see a large, square, looks-like-a-notice at the top of the strange cliff in the middle pic. Warning to climbers approaching from the other side of the sudden drop maybe?. Saw another later, in the middle of a steep slope. Odd. Maybe an antenne. I liked the formation of the cliffside in the last pic. Could have been from the local monster sharpening his claws.

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The guest pontoon at Urke, (62 12.5 , 6 33.9) near the bottom end of the fjord, was over-popular and very over-full, both two-and three-abreast. Fantastic evening, smoky grilling very popular, singing too. No place for us though, so we found a very small pontoon outside a salmon smolt factory, quite weekend-shut and deserted, and enjoyed a quiet night.

Today, calm, the morning overcast trying to rise up the mountainsides, and the first motorboat armada on their way home ploughing up the mirror-like fjord. We’ll have to potter off soon, to Mauseidvågen, (62 25.4 , 6 16.6). Had hoped for a forecast southerly breeze to help us on our way, but it hasn’t appeared yet.

Alls well!

An amusing incident: Hopsjø is in a long, narrow passage between islands, and large notices, “Maks 5 Knop” at the beginning and at the end. Now Josin does about 5,5 knots at fast cruise, so the speed limit isn’t a problem for me, but others….. In a particularly narrow part, I suddenly realised that there was not just one boat following me, but several, all in disorderly “line astern”. Obviously champing at the bit, as their normal speed of “5 knots” is at least the double. The channel opened into a bay, and they roared past, large-lettered outboards at full chat, 50 HP, 150HP, 100HP, 300 HP, in a competition to see who could reach the final “Maks 5 Knop” sign first. Left behind troubled waters. But interesting though, as the first one behind me was disciplined, and the rest obviously didn’t dare!

Managed some sailing to K’sund, (63 7.1 , 7 44.0) but mostly motoring over a calm-ish sea. K’sund guest harbour was almost full of the inevitable motor cruisers, but there was a just Josin-sized space between a Danish and a German sailboat. Multilingual help to tie up, with warnings, in the limited space.

Leaving K’sund on a bright sunny day I saw this: Ancient and Modern. Tall Ship, tall Bridge. Meter to spare.

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The Tall Ship “Ideal” motored surprisingly slowly. It took ages before it disappeared over Hustavika, inside the skerries, on its way to Bud. We stayed outside, as the sea was benign and the wind pushed us along at a comfortable and relaxing speed under genakker. We didn’t stop at Bud, as the day was yet youngish and the sailing breeze stil blew, we carried on to Tornes, (62 50.2 , 7 2.5), slightly off track, but usually quiet, this time too. Very popular caravan site,

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A calm. dull, grey day invited to a laundry session. Washing machine took 3 hours and 40 minutes, the drier took 1 hour and 20 minutes, only one machine at a time and two loads. Took all day. Dug out the bicycle in the interim and pedalled up, yes, pedalled up the hill, to the shop to replenish essentials. Wheeee-speed home again.

Leaving Tornes in a cloudless, sunny day, we passed Nyhamn, where most of the North Sea gas comes in in enormous pipes, gets treated, and then exported. Millions in value every hour. Most impressive operation.

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We were lucky with the wind and seas, and sailed most of the relatively short distance to Sandøy. (62 49.3 , 6 34.6). Small harbour tucked away from sight, but very snug. Two tieup spots.

On the way there, a most unusual sight. Gannets. They are always an intriguing sight, fishing with their special technique: Flying slowly at about 25 meters above the sea, the diving like a bomb with trailing wings, sometimes coming up again with fish in pointed beak. This time though, a gaggle(?) of them, about 20 or so, resting on the water farily close together. When we approached, they struggled aloft, not much wind to help. Never seen them on the water before. Wonder where the colony is?

Sandøy is one of the many communities, based before on fishing and farming, but now more on recreational use. Many houses now holiday homes, this one being freshened up by a nearly-retiree. Old boats never die, they just get used for something else.

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Sandøy has an unusual church: Octagonal, log construction, from early 1800. Unfortunately shut, but a peep in through a window revealed an intimate arrangement. A sad reminder in the churchyard: A three-sided stone monument over all those from the community who had lost their lives at sea. Many. many names:

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After the first lightning and thunder of the summer last night, it is still raining a bit, so it will be a very late start, only to the next-but-one island, Finnøy. There apparently, from my informant up the ladder, the very first engine for a fishing boat was constructed and installed. Sounds inticing for this old motor-man. This I was told, was the initial spark of engineering activity which has grown enormously and spread in the surrounding area.

Another coffee while we wait for the rain to cease. Alls well.

Hopsjø: 63 37.7 , 8 43.2

To quote my favourite satirical poet, Spike Milligan, “The sky must have holes for the rain to come in, but the holes must be small, ´cos the rain is so thin”.

This morning’s rain is a bit thicker. Individual drops big enough to create the pillar and ring pattern. Wet though. There are sufficient of them that even the local heron, standing sentinel in the shallows, gave up. I had another snooze and a late breakfast.

Hopsjø is a place of history. One of the largest trading and fishing centres in the area from the mid 1700s, through 1800s and into the 1900s. The buildings are well preserved, with an “everyday-things-from-the-past” museum, and well used in the summer months, including a very good restaurant. Lots of cabin cruisers arrived in the late afternoon and enjoyed the restaurant and terrace in the sunshine.

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Getting here was interesting. First an over-optimistic attempt to genakker-sail, which due to the only very weak breeze, caused more sail-and-ropes poggles than usual and resulted in lack of success and pride.

Then there was the Coastal Watch, (Kystvakten), in action to service a lighthouse. The ship just nuzzled in to the rock and kept the engine going to hold it there, while men went ashore, (one up on the lantern tower, one going there). Glassy sea, just the right conditions.

Next an approaching workboat with a barge under tow. These workboats are special to Norway I believe, due to the regulations governing ship construction. They are 14,99 meters long, (rules split at 15 meters) and almost as wide, on a catarmaran hull. Ugly but effective. Relative speeds indicated that the entourage would catch me up just as we were getting to a very narrow space, so just before we got there I held out my left arm demonstratively and ducked into a convenient small bay. Demonstrative waving of thanks from the captain, head out of bridge window, and crew, on side deck. Followed them at a safe distance, until the barge was delivered to a shipyard. Surprising to find such a comprehensive activity out here amongst the islands. Barge unfortunately just out of the picture.

As you can see from the picture, the sun now shone from a cloudless sky and I enjoyed the rest of the motoring day against wind and current getting sunburned again. That was the second day this summer!

Enjoyed a very good dinner of succulent steak of red deer, (hjort), but disappointing veg, and a delicious but anonymous creamy desert.

Today was forecast to be both rainy and wind-against, so I had planned on staying here until tomorrow. But it has stopped raining and the wind isn’t blowing so I need to make a decision. Coffee first.

Alls well.

Trondheim: 63 26.0, 10 22.3. Storfosna: 63 39.2, 9 24.0. (OK Roy?)

Some like to plot our position in electronic maps, like Google Earth.

It rained in Trondheim, gently and steadily, so I took it very easy until after lunch, and took the tram into the city. Two boat-things shops later I still hadn’t obtained a new bilge pump, but sundry other things instead, including a magic potion, at a teeth-sucking price, to kill any diesel bugs in Josin’s fuel tank. There is a lot of it about recently, apparently partially due to the addition of bio elements in the fuel. After the filter hiatus earlier, I want to be protected.

Had an enjoyable visit in the evening from grandson John Magnus and his partner Mariell. JM is about 1,9 m tall, but he had to test the bunk in the the forecsle for size, just in case they come aboard for a few days some day. Maybe next summer. We met again the next evening for a meal at the Graffi Grill and Bar, and wisely ordered for two, with three plates. Absolutely enough. and very good. Pic taken before eating.

Next day dawned flat calm with blue-sky sunshine, and a promising wind forecast. By the time I had got organised, (had to “dash” up the hill to buy forgotten breakfast yoghurt), the seas were showing signs of activity, and, sure enough, that which caused a gentle bobbing motion inside the harbour developed into something much more aggressive, 1 to 1,5 meter waves outside, which, including their reflections from the steep shore, made for a extremely bumpy ride the first half hour. Where those waves came from, north east, with wind from south, remains a mystery. And there was current, which amazingly, almost all day, was from behind. Progress was good but intermittent, with hoisting and un-rolling sails, sailing a while, lowering and in-rolling, motoring a while, repeated to frustration. The best part was after the Trondheim Fjord in the west-going Trondheim’s Leie, where the genakker drew us along at a steady satisfactory speed, and almost into the narrow entrance to the bay at Storfosna.

Today started very grey and calm, with light drizzle, so we remained where we were for the rest of the day. Took the opportunity to inspect the propeller, not by diving, but by taking a video with a GoPro camera on the end of an extended boathook. It took me almost all morning to get it and communication to work, (instruction book at home, but internet helped), and was finally able to confirm that all seemed to be in order.

Intended here was an under-water picture, but I only managed a video, much too long, and I haven’t found out how to clip one pic from a video. Maybe read some more and try again later.

Still grey and calm. We stay til tomorrow, when sunshine is promised. Fingers crossed.

Woke to overcast and drizzle, so dallied and read a chapter or two before leaving Sjøvik, on Leka. No wind to speak of so more use of diesel. Nearing Rørvik we met the tidal current, going north and against of course. The narrower the fairway, the stronger the current, and when it increased to well over two knots, I took action and sought the shallows, where it wasn’t so strong. Our track is revealing: Followed mostly the 5 meter depth contour on the wonderful electronic chart. No surprises luckily.

Rørvik was wet, drizzly and foggy, so we stayed a day, did some shopping, read some more, and tried to get the bilge pump to work. Dismantling revealed sufficient crud and corrosion that the flap-valves didn’t seat properly, therefore no suck and blow. A good cleanup restored some functionality. Really need a new one. But the boat-things shop has moved to the other side of the island, several Km away, not promising for a bicycle ride in this weather, and the friendly voice on the phone couldn’t help.

Left Rørvik early, the forecast was for winds against, increasing later. Check, but we got to Villa, motoring, before that happened. Villa is where the very first lighthouse was built in Norway, 1839, coal fired, and I’d hoped to make it a visit. But it wasn’t on the top of the hill next to the harbour, but a good long way away. Having negotiated the rather uneven “path” thither for a few hundred meters, and a conference with my knees, we decided to return to boat. Mission unaccomplished. Pottered about instead. The harbour is one of the least-inviting I have seen, but the visitors pontoon is luckily more friendly. Harbour building perched on the steep side of a very narrow channel. Nice view though.

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The ravages of time create art. Who would have guessed that the blacksmith’s hammering which forged this utilitarian maritime necessity would turn out so artistic? And nature finds a way amongst the cast-offs.

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Left Villa with the promise of a day of calmish winds and sunshine, and it happened! Initial motoring, but after a while the clouds dissolved and the breeze blew gently and we genakker-sailed for most of the rest of the day, and got sunburned shoulders. Goals, and alternative goals for the day, disappeared aft one by one. Why stop? Incredible. Finally stopped i Djupfest, (known), in late evening, weary but content.

Next morning was strange. Absolutely calm and silent, due to very low cloud, almost fog. Even the gulls remained quiet. However, we set off in the forecast hope of improvement. It was eerie. Cloudbase was very variable, apparently just over mast-height occasionally, and visibility about a mile. A landmark (or should that be seamark?), lighthouse came and went, clear on approach, foggy on departure: Weird!

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Then an intermittent but gradual clearing, and some sailing wind, mainly aft, which carried us fitfully towards Trondheim. Wind direction was not constant, and after getting into and out of, a chinese gybe, learned how not to do it. (Chinese gybe is when the sail is an hour-glass , with the top of the sail filled one way and the bottom is filled the opposite way). Tricky, preferably needing rather more than one pair of hands to unravel! Arrived in Trondheim just before the weather clamped down and rained again.

Grey, wet and drizzly today. Take it easy. Alls snug and well.