Author: josinjohn

Grey morning in Trollfjord, no sun, so another day without summer. On the way to Svolvær we saw this coming to Trollfjord. Looks a comfortable way to travel and with excellent viewability. It may be electric, it was quiet enough, there are several tourist vessels and ferries now with electric propulsion.

Uneventful the rest of the way to Svolvær, with the famous statue at the harbour entrance of a fisherman’s wife looking for her husband. Further in were long rows of the frames used for drying the vast amounts of cod caught here in the Vestfjord in the early months of the year.

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Svolvær guest harbour was over-full, with motorboats tied up two-abreast, contrary to covid 19 rules, and absolutely no space for Josin. So we tied up to the harbour wall, high, next to a ladder to climb ashore. Not pleasant. Went food shopping, read a little and then went to bed, intending an early start.

No. It was raining when I woke up, also for the second time, and continued until lunchtime, then a sudden clearance, blue skies, and a southerly wind. Oho! Activity in the harbour. Queue to get out. Outside the harbour entrance there were waves, big waves, so we motored to the shelter of a convenient island to hoist the sails, first main, then genakker. Whoosh! 10 to 15 knots of wind abeam and we had a rollercoaster ride across the fjord, rolling and pitching and enjoying it immensely. Wind gradually decreased until the movement of the boat was more than the wind could hold the sails filled. so we motored the rest of the short distance to Straumshavn, on Hamarøy, (68 06.4 / 015 22.3), and anchored in a well-protected bay in crystal-clear, icy-green water, bottom very visible. It seemed much closer than the depth sounder showed, 5,4 meters. Water wasn’t that clear and deluding, surely? Could the sounder be wrongly calibrated? Needs checking. Measured the depth with the most reliable method of all: A weight on the end of a piece of string. Just over two meters. But the keel is 1,6 meters below the waterline! Ah, humph. How many times have we nearly hit bottom in blissful ignorance? Half an hour later of pressing buttons on the chart plotter and trolling through all the menus, eventually revealed where to make adjustments. The sounder now reads zero with 20 cm of water under the keel. Since then, all waters have been shallower, some nearly nail-bitingly so. Haven’t touched yet!

Peaceful night and a wakeup call from the sun, bursting out from behind a mountain to the east. Shower. Breakfast. The forecast wind duly appeared and we up-anchored and left, hoisting sails just out of the bay.

Looking back, there was the famous “Hammarøyskaft”, of which I’d taken a picture on the way north without realising its significance.

Another glorious genakker sail south-along, this time with the wind on the quarter, and only the vestige of yesterday’s rollers on the bow.

Interesting weather conditions, each mountain had its own cumulus cloud as a hat, with old ones downstream:

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It couldn’t last of course. Before we got to goal for the day, Røsøy on the island of Steigen, it was back to motorsailing, then only motoring as the way in to the harbour was to the north. Disappointing. Only unoccupied tie-up was obviously a private slot. A short walk ashore revealed little of interest, so we left again and headed for Nordskot, which I knew. The guest pontoon is an “L”, with the long bit exposed to the westerly winds, and waves and wakes of passing boats, and the short bit more sheltered. An enormous sailing boat occupied the whole length of it. So now I sit here on the long bit and bounce. A young couple, in a 40 foot sailing boat, was dithering to leave in their inexperience, because of the wind pressing them onto the pontoon. SkipperJohn showed them how to use a “spring” a diagonal rope from bow to shore, and the engine and rudder to rotate the boat out at the stern, until they could back out with space to spare. Hoots of joy when they left. Good deed of the day. Dinner now, then read..

Alls well

The forecast was for gentle southerly winds, good for a sail to Trollfjord. So the genakker was hauled out from the depts of a cockpit locker and rigged. A bit of a process with its ropes having to be in the right pulleys and places to avoid poggles. On the way out of Skrova harbour we met Per coming in, so we hurriedly stopped for a chat, gently heaving in the rollers. I reiterated my appreciation of his help and advice.

Goodbye Skrova. That blue sky looks promising!

Out into the Vestfjord there was a southerly wind, but it was too weak to sail, so we motored and hoped for the forecast increase. A steady stream of a variety of boats heading out from Svolvær came past us, going north, almost certainly for Trollfjord. After the shallows at Øyhellesund, well marked and with a strong current, and back in more open water, the genakker was unrolled and we sailed, gently northward. Bliss! The mountains on both sides keeping the wind constant in direction. Rolled the sail in to make a stop at Digermulen, to the shop on the quay to buy fresh bread. Had to wait a few minutes as it was really fresh out of the oven. Then back to the last stretch, sailing, to the entrance to Trollfjord. Motored gently the rest of the way in to the west end, to anchor off the outlet of the small river. (68 21.8 / 014 55.8). The river water, being sourced up in the melting snows, was crystal clear and very cold, 8 degrees, the lowest yet. That swim seems ever further away. A peaceful evening, reading in the sunshine, until the sun hid itself behind a towering mountain to the west, clouds collected, whereupon the temperature fell rapidly.

Entertainment in late evening, the coastal steamer “Trollfjord” came, turned around and departed. You can see the narrow entrance to the fjord. The steep mountainside on the left has had lots of ships names graffitied on it but they have obviously been erased by ice and water, very few remaining.

Had hoped for a sunny awakening this morning, but no, low clouds covered the sky and swirled around the mountainsides. Forecast more of the same, so I think I will up anchor and leave for Svolvær. No wind here, but maybe some out in Raftsund. We’ll see.

Alls well.

A long, motor slog into the wind and waves. Not much to look at or entertain. Rather tiring. During the afternoon I was abruptly dragged out of a torpor when the engine revs suddenly dropped, and a serious vibration shook the boat. Wake up! Grab engine control. Neutral. Peer over the side. Nothing. Gear in reverse and some power. Still vibration. Forward again. Less vibration. Ah. probably weed. So little ahead, then little astern repeated, and suddenly a large clump of weed appeared aft.

Resume normal progress. Thankfully! I didn’t relish the thought of having to don full wet suit and go overboard and clear things.

Only sight of anything was a south-bound Hurtigrute, (Coastal Steamer), seen against the backdrop of Store Molla island, on it’s way to Svolvær.

Bit of close navigating around and into Skrova harbour, a very well-protected place, only exposed to direct southerly winds. But where was this mooring Per said I could use? Nowhere fitted the description. Confusing. Guest pontoon over-full. So we motored very slowly further in and found, one among many small ones, a pontoon below a row of houses, or rather holiday cottages, which didn’t look occupied.

Still didn’t look occupied today either. Close inspection of very slack mooring ropes had obviously been dangling in the water for some time, they being well overgrow with weed. Didn’t get disturbed, although ready.

Today, out came the bicycle and I investigated Skrova from end to end, sounds energetic, but no, Skrova is small. There is a tunnel through the hill giving access to wharves for fish activities, and in this tunnel is an exhibition of historical photos, mostly of fishing activities of course. Life must have been very hard in those not-too-distant days. And on the side of the road there, hung on the fish-drying racks, a long row of very recent photos from Burma, (eller Myanmar if you prefer). Very odd to find that here, way up north. Told a tragic story.

Restaurant Skrova Brygge enticed with fish soup for dinner today. Can be very good, each chef proud of their own. It was good. Service very slow, so enjoyed it all the more.

Relax now. Maybe Trollfjord tomorrow, weather decides.

Alls well.

A relative short motorsail into Skjomen, a long, slightly winding, deep fjord between high mountains. The wind was northerly, and always aft and variable. After many gybes, I gave up the mainsail, it was then much easier gybing only the jib. Impressive mountains, and evidence of how they can threaten and create problems. A recent landslide, now cleared, had closed the road into the community in the inner end of the fjord:

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I had intended to anchor there, but the wind was blowing straight onshore, and I was unsure of the anchor-hold, so we puttered out and north again, looking for a better place. Ended up at Ofoten Kystlag, (68 17.3 / 017 18.5), welcomed by Jan Eirik to take Josin’s ropes. He had seen us sailing in earlier, and though we might be back. Previously a station for experimental aquaculture, looking after the health of this region’s rather special milieu.

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Lots of buildings, mostly hidden in the woods behind, and enormous amounts of superfluous equipment looking sad. What did they need three VW engines for? There was one large digging machine which should have been in a museum. How on earth did it get there? There is no road to this side of the fjord.

Woke early next morning to this, flat calm, cloudless, windless. It remained like this for most of the day, so I was able to enjoy a rather special day ashore.

Jan Eirik was busy sawing up and choppinig firewood when I climbed the road, (track), and he stopped and told me about this recently established addition to Forbundet KYSTEN, (The Coastal Society). Members mostly from Narvik. They had done an incredible job of clearing and fixing and maintenance, and the main building was now a very organised place, with kitchen and lounge.

Jan Eirik said I should take a stroll along the road (track, “three-ply”, very overgrown), to see the rock carvings, so I did, and saw this on the way:

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Very pretty waterfall and stream, of crystal-clear, very cold, water. There were several derelict buildings from long-abandoned farms, this was one of the least derelict, but the raspberry bushes had survived in their abundance. So to the rock carvings, an isolated and surprisingly white, smooth rock, obviously ideal for the purpose:

The carvings are apparently best seen just after rain, and in early or late, slanting sunlight. This was in the middle of the fantastic day, so, bad luck! I could just about imagine that there has been carving activity, can you?

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I wandered both ways along the road, (track), until other houses came into view. Well cared-for ex-farm buildings, now used recreationally. Remember, everything has to be transported by boat!

Early to bed, satisfied-weary after a rather special day, just as the sun disappeared behind a mountain. Suddenly chilly. Thankyou for an interesting stay Jan Eirik, and good luck for the future!

Woke to a disappointing, very chilly, grey and drizzly day, clouds down the mountainsides and wind still north. So, full protective clothing, and away. Goal not very challenging, to Ballangen, further out on the south side of the Ofotfjord. Got to the guest harbour at the bottom of the tide, and suspiciously shallow water inside the molo, and everywhere in the small harbour was occupied. Not very inviting. As it was still relatively early, we turned around and headed back out into the fjord and west, in very variable weather, rain, sailing wind, calm, counter currents and winds and waves, to Lødingen, (68 24.7 / 016 0.3). Largish harbour (with easily-accessible diesel!) and a small guest pontoon. Tied up next to Per, a fisherman on holiday from Skrova, (my intended next stop). Per gave me tie-up tips there, including that there was no electricity at the guest pontoon. Kindly said I could use his berth for the next day or two. Forecast not very promising for a sailor. We’ll see.

Saturday, 4th July. Nothing connected to the US of A apparent here. Nobody around, so heard no comments on my tying up in a private berth. Anyway, moved the boat to another one in the guest part of the harbour, where I could go ashore. Life seemed somnolent. Had expected more boat people, enough boats.

The guest harbour is quite a step away from the town center, (rather long and narrow), so the bicycle was extracted and set up. Now you should know, a lot of Narvik, like many towns in Norway, is built on a hill. This one is between the guest harbour and town. Uphill to the top, much pushing rather than pedalling, and whoosh most of the hard-earned altitude down to town. The tourist information office is in a magnificent new building as part of the open town center. It also houses the library and other cultural activities. Info lady was most helpful and had no difficulty in selling me a ticket to the Arctic Train, leaving this evening. Back to boat to eat, zizz, then equip with camera, drinkbottle, an apple and some chocolate, pushed and pedalled up and whooshed down the hill again, to the train station at the north end of town.

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The traindriver is from Senja, and had recently returned from driving the Airport Train in Oslo. Didn’t miss it at all.

The Artic Train uses the same line as the iron-ore trains from Kiruna in Sweden, and one came through just before we left. It seemed unending, clanketyclank, clanketyclank. Then it was our turn, all five of us passengers, exclusive!, with full attention from a smiling and informative hostess, conductor and guide. The line climbs gently all the way, snaking its way up the mountain, through many tunnels and, higher up, snowsheds. Must have been a mammoth task to construct. Early views are tree-restricted but the occasional sight is glimpsed. New bridge. It must be one of the longest suspension bridges in Norway, and shortens the time from the Evenes airport to town considerably.

The Arctic Train only goes as far as Bjørnefjell, just short of the Norwegian/Swedish border. 514 meters above sea level.

These pics are looking west to Norway, and east to Sweden: Only downhill from here

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Going back down again it was easier to take pictures: Everything majestic and very large. The standing stone has resisted all efforts to tumble it apparently.

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Then back to Narvik. That train ride gives one a quick appreciation of the terrain hereabouts, from the fjord, to impressive tree-clad mountains, to semi-bald tundra. There is a road there too, which is probably also quite a bit of sightseeing.

Pedalled and whooshed back to the boat, well satisfied with the day. Some food, then bed.

Alls well.

Another day with partially contrary winds, but at least the sea has calmed down and boat motion subdued.

Much thought and note taking, looking up of tide tables and port offsets, (how far behind a place is relative to a standard), adding and subtracting, and measuring distances were spent trying to time the passage through Ramsund , which is listed as having strong tidal currents. (Takk for regneark hjelpen Arne!).

So, confident that I had done it all correctly, we set off at 12:15, planning to get to the north end of Ramsund just after the current turned to south-going. We met one of historical maritime’s Queen of the Fjords, Anna Rogde, on the way out into Vågsfjord. Amazing how, with a lot of TLC from enthusiasts , these vintage vessels are kept in top working order. Pity she wasn’t sailing, that had been a real picture.

All went according to plan until we got to Tjeldsund and its bridge. Here were much stronger currents, against, that I had calculated, and progress was sufficiently slow that I got a bit worried. It turned out all right, as I was able to sneak along the west shore, avoiding the main current, and even finding south-going eddies. With trepidation at the ready we arrived at the markers and the shallow channel at the north end of Ramsund. Whadderuknow! Here was almost flat calm and a gentle tendency to south-going current. Calculations checked and trepidation subsided a little. Relief. Potter at cruise-speed, 5,5 knots, onward.

When we got to the bridge further south, and the narrowest and shallowest place, the current was much stronger, as predicted, but still quite docile compared to what it could have been apparently. More relief and no trepidation left. After that it was easy navigating and out into the wide Ofot Fjord. There was wind! Unannounced, from the south west, but not a lot. Up sails and shut off engine. Peace. Er….What speed? Just over 4 knots through the water, nearly a knot of current against. How far to Narvik? 22 nautical miles. Hmm. How late ought we to get there? Patience lasted about an hour before the wind decreased, and bedtime brought closer by starting the engine again, and we motor-sailed the rest of the way. Narvik Baatforening’s harbour was not small, and chock-a-block. Found an empty berth and tied up. Obviously a private berth. Well. As this was now nearly nine o’clock, and the place was deserted, I reckoned that this was ok until tomorrow. Quick meal and bed. Long and eventful day, very satisfied that the tide and current calculations had turned out right.

Narvik and a bit of sightseeing tomorrow. Sleep now.

Alls well

Monday was a bit of an anticlimax, after supersunday in a sailplane. But onward! Forecast was for deterioration in the weather, so decided to return to Harstad, and be boat-busy in the rain. Lovely sunshine and sailing in gusty and terrain-variable winds.

Vågsfjord, the last open fjord before Harstad, showed its teeth again, with short sharp waves pressed up by a northerly blow, on the nose of course. A very bouncy and wet two hours. Bit of a relief to tie up in my usual place at the end of the floating pontoon. The weather certainly did deteriorate, with rain and more wind, veered to the northeast. Vågsfjord now produced not only waves, but rollers which, in spite of a long floating breakwater, managed to curl sneakily round its end and press right into the guest harbour, causing much movement. Increased during the night to levels which made it impossible to sleep, what with the motion and tugging at the moorings, and things banging about in the boat. That is normally only experienced when sailing in hard conditions! Felt very grotty next morning, sleeplessness aggrified by activity and irritation. Tried to take a video, although the motion had quietened down a bit.

Motion lasted all day and only softened some in late evening, by which time nothing would prevent me from sleeping.

Yesterday, in by now only light drizzle, and much calmer waters, we pottered round to Harstad Marina, in the inner part of this large harbour, in search av blocks and ropes damaged in the drama. Also filled up with diesel, again. Feeling better.

Lighter skies today and less drizzle. Maybe better later, when we should head south again. Goal is Narvik, but need a stop on the way. Much studying of tide tables and head-scratching as to when to leave, to time the strong currents in the narrows ahead. Better go food-shopping, now its dry for a bit.

Alls well.

Saturday weather was much better and we motored and sailed south again, to Finnsnes, this time getting the tides right so that we got whooshed at great speed through the narrows at Rystraumen, 4 knots current in our favour.

Went to bed early, intending to make an early start on sunday, but managed to “oversleep” and didn’t get away until after eight. The goal was Sjøvegen and the gliding club, hopefully in time to get a flight. Fortunately the tides were favourable, and we got there almost early enough at just after to. Had tried to ring the only contact I had, to hear if there was any flying going on, but he didn’t answer, (later heard that he was not well with pollen allergy). So the only thing to do was to dig out the bike and pedal my way the the airfield. Hopes were raised when I stopped for a drink-pause at the top of a long hill, and caught a glimpse of the to-seater, high up and far away, obviously enjoying thermal lift.

It was 12,6 Km. 52minutes. Quite a challenge for artificial knees and associated weakened muscles, but we survived. Only person there, under the caravan awning, was the ground radio operator, with nothing to do. Welcoming. All three aircraft were in the sky and had been for a couple of hours. Conditions were obviously very good. Wait. Chat. Enjoy the sunshine. Aircraft landed one-by-one, and I was an enthusiastic helper to hopefully get a flight in before closing time. Hans had been up for nearly three hours, and was satisfied with the day really, but he volunteered to take me up. The tow plane had been fixed with a new(?) cylinder and piston since last week end, and was in full voice again. Bump, bump, bumpety bump over the grass and then lift off! Just as exciting, every time! The air was still turbulent, so it wasn’t too late for thermals, and the tow plane found us one at the end of the climb. Up and up and up we circled.

“You want a go?” (You bet!) Yes please. “You have control”. I have control. And I managed to keep us up for what seemed like an age, but was in fact only about 20 minutes. Hans suggested the potato field, (the brown stripe), and it helped.

The airstrip is to the right. Sjøvegan is in the distance. We are about 600 meters up.

It was quite extraordinarily satisfying to discover that flying was still completely automatic and I could concentrate on finding and chasing lift. Afterwards, Hans said, without prompting, that he realised very quickly that I was quite competent enough, (Jeeeay!) and he could relax and enjoy the view. He even complemented my circling technique. (Flatterer!).

Control back to Hans, and I took some pictures: Amazingly clear air, and view to the horizon.

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After a while even Hans couldn’t keep us up any more, and he aimed for home and the bumpy ground. 53 minutes. Pack the aircraft away in the hangar. Fill in logbooks. Sign the form as P2. Hear with the others their experiences and where they had found lift. Sit around the heating-up barbeque. Chat. Must say the experience tasted of more! What an incredible day!

Hans drove us towards Sjøvegan and a meal at the canteen at the camping site. He had much to tell. First parachuting, then hang gliding, then paragliding, then autogiro, then sailplaning. Best he said. Then he drove me to the top of the hill on the way back to Sjøvegan so I didn’t need to pedal much, I unfolded the bike, waved a heart-felt goodbye, and whooshed back to the boat. Zonk. Sleep.

Yes, what an incredible day!

Second rainy day, so, domestics and boat maintenance tasks. First engine.

A little puddle under, green water. Fill a little antifreezewater. Dipstick not at max, so fill a little oil. Check belt, (one of these new, and excellent, polybelts). Oh dear. Worn. Not much life left. Search for spare, which I know is on board. Please you boat gremlins, where have you hidden it? No luck. Google a supplier. Outside town. Google buses. Comprehensive. Choose route. Google nearest bus stop. Close by. Rain togs. Hood up, wind blowing. Folk, not really distancing, huddled in the bus shelter. I huddle too.

Tromsø is built on a high-ridged island, and the bus climbed steeply to the ridge, ran along it, kindergartens, schools, dwellings everywhere, then descended to the other side. View could have been marvellous if it hadn’t been for the low cloud and rain. Long walk to belt place. How much??? Slightly less-long wet walk back to another, but closer bus stop. Of course I should have checked, or asked or something. Bus arrives, but goes away from town. Round the whole island it seems. Oh well, more sightseeing, but not comfortable. Damp.

Back to boat. Heaters on full blast and change clothes. Better now. Install new belt. Start engine and run for a while to bed in the belt. Readjust. Lunch. Spent the rest of the frustrating day trying and in the end, succeeding, in finding an electrical anomaly which has caused worry and concern. Relief! Tidying up afterwards, and re-stowing things in a more orderly fashion revealed, guess what? The spare belt. Thankyou gremlins. Now I still have a spare belt on board.

Better weather forecast for tomorrow, saturday. Filled up with diesel and water yesterday, so we are ready to, and will probably proceed south, towards Sjøvegan again, and hopefully another ride in the sky.

Sorry, no pictures. Rain and low, grey cloud.

Alls well again.

The pause in flying activity caused a change of plan. Had to get back to Harstad sooner og later to pick up an electronic chart which was ordered earlier. So prepared to leave Sjøvegan, to return later. At the nightly half-awake task, I took a peep out of the window. This at 3 am:

So there was no excuse but to rise and shine, eat breakfast, and go. Amazing sounds in the stillness. A new one was a cascading waterfall on the other side of the bay, fed by the melting snow higher up:

It was almost sacriledge to disturb the profound peace by motoring along, but I went slowly to keep the decibels under control. No wind at all for most of the way to Harstad, so it was a bit boring amongst these high and steep mountains. Civilisation is well spread, but there are sometimes small communities which have clawed out a living in the past, and thrived, isolated except by rowing boat. Now there is a decent road there, with either a bridge or a ferry to somewhere else.

Managed a bit of sailing across the open Vågsfjord to Harstad and got there just as the town was beginning to buzz. Out with the bike and pedal to chartshop. Not come yet? Oh dear. What time does the post come? “Between 11 and 12. May not come today”. (Now ten thirty).” We’ll deliver it when it comes”. Very serviceminded! Back to boat, (fresh sourdough bread on the way), with the prospect of whiling away the day. How? New plan. Start with coffee and fresh bread and lots of butter, yum! But Lo! Just after 12, a call to say that “he’s on his way”, and sure enough a friendly, bright-yellow-jacketed man knocked on the boat and handed over an envelope and good wishes. Out with the laptop and carry out the procedure. Half an hour later, chart installed in chartplotter, and all systems go. Nuther new plan. OK. Goal Tromsø. Trip to food shop. Fill water. Now too late to go very far, so we puttered to a little island, Kjøtta, about five nm away, which looked to have a sheltered bay for anchoring. Yes indeed. (68 52.6 / 016 42.04). Beautiful evening to enjoy the P&Q, birds, and sounds.

Woke again at very early, fantastic morning sunshine, so decided again to leave. Forecast was for a SW breeze which should waft us along nicely. Left at 05:15. Back out into Vågsfjord, and the 10 to 12 kt breeze. Up sails and at last enjoy some proper sailing, wind pilot doing the steering very well. Not very long in paradise. Wind gradually increased, blowing up short, sharp waves, on the quarter. Soon one reef. This was definitely not forecast. Then second reef and half-roll foresail. Rushing and rolling and crashing along at max speed. Exhilarating, but rather tiring. Into next fjord, and the wind disappeared. Just like that! These mountains have a decisive effect on the wind. Back to motoring, and coffee, and sourdough sandwiches. Finnsnes appeared at about 12, and as it was so early, I decided to carry on, and on, and on. Bits of sailing, most motoring and sightseeing. How about the giant’s toothbrush?

This was 23 June, Midsummer’s Eve, when folk gather at the shoreline, barbecues get fired up (down south folk enjoy a swim, but not here, water temp 11 degrees), and giant bonfires get lit, to mark the summer solstice. I saw several, this one must have at least had som old tractor tyres in it to make such a smokescreen:

By then I was optimistically eyeing getting to Tromsø in time to find a restaurant, but then we got to Ryøstraumen, with still a couple of hours to go. When your boat, engine at full chat, does 6,1 knots through the water, and the water is going the other way at 4,5 to 5 knots, progress is incredibly slow, and one has plenty of time but no opportunity to admire the view, and people enjoying watching us, close by. The water swirled and rushed, needing very close attention to steering. Gulls and terns were having a diving ball, with the turbulence stirring up fish, totally ignoring us. Good luck to them, I’m too busy to take a picture. It took seemingly ages to get into calmer water, and the counter-current, though less, was still significant out into the open fjord, so progress was much slower than hoped. Tried sneaking my way out of the mainstream by steering close inshore, but it was still 1 to 1,5 knots against. Note to self: Find out about tides and currents and timing, before returning!

So into Tromsø, the major city here north. Lots of building activity and colourful blocks of flats and office buildings. Hotel in the center like a ship, overlooking the guest harbour. Not many guestboats, but plenty of other vessels of all kinds. It was nearly 7 o’clock by now, so by the time we had tied up, chatted to the other two sailing boats, (thankyou for helping with ropes, where’s the diesel?), and hoisted the cockpit canopy, (rain forecast, but not here yet), muggins was fairly out of energy, so no restaurant. Instant tour-meal. Boiling water into the orange bag, stir and spoon-eat. Nourishing, quick, but not exactly gourmet. Satisfied with the day. Zonk. Sleep.

Today, overcast, but not cold. A trip later to the tourist info office. Must walk, (or maybe take the bus), over the bridge to the Artic Cathedral. Seen once before, which left a strong impression. Might take the funicular up the mountain, the view of the city must be amazing.

Take it easy though. Long day yesterday, restitution important.

Alls well!