Author: josinjohn

Sunday, 24 july. Woke this morning to a chilly feeling and very poor visibility. Fog. Fairly thick. Locals say that when the wind comes inn from the north after a period of sunny weather, then comes the fog .  Check.

I’m on the north side of the bay, looking towards Vegstein, after the fog had lifted enough for a bicycle ride. Sitting on a stone recently vacated by one of the many sheep here.

Well, well, here be internet, so here’s an update.

Arrived here in time for Vegstein day. Lovely sunny day and lots of visitors. Sale of waffles hit a record. One of the greater attractions were the crabs. The local boss and fisherma/sheepfarmer had put out crab pots, and the haul was considerable. Poured into large plastic containers, they were magnets for children of all sizes. Later sport was crabraces, see which one scuttles back quickest into the séaweed when let loose again. Odd behaviour of some, which just sat there and waved their claws. Had to be shown where the water was. Even later, after the visitors had left, the prime crabs, which were really too large for the kids to play with, weren’t they, were ceremoniously cooked in an enormous cauldron and generously handed out. Supperyummmm!

MotorJohan had a busy day and kept the motor-music going for other enthusiasts. Came out frequently for a wipe over the perspiring brow with slightly-oily rag, then back into the fray.

Darts was popular until two of the darts got trodden on.

Josin did not give joy-rides. No wind. Not much interest either. Sailboats are the exception up here, amongst the motorboats of all sizes. Luckily no mega-yachts. Although there was an indecently large sailing mega-yacht in Bodø harbour, impressing us with the height of its mast and the glossy extensiveness of its pale green hull, and taking up lots of space.

In the evening we were entertained by a troubadur, name of By, (forgotten his first), from Elverum, south east in Norway, so of another dialect than hereabouts. Sang mostly own melodies to lyrics of known and lesser-known verse from around his home area. Difficult for this poor foreigner to get the texts, but his guitar-playing was quite exceptional. Even later, a local lady was encouraged to play her “to rader”, a simple accordian which she played also exceptionally and got the public to join in the songs. Many enjoyed the foot-tappin beat.

Tomorrow there is a boat trip out to two of the outlying islands, which are of mainly historical interest, but well worth a visit. Looking at the charts, I wouldn’t like to try and navigate Josin in there! Local folklore has it that when the Gods created this area they kneaded the mountains in their hands before casting them down, but the archipeligo is a result of their rubbing their hands together to clean them.

Back to the bike and the pedalling..

Alls well

Yes, I did get the bike out at Kjerringøy, and went for a pedal. First a long climb up towards the mountains, and according to the map, lakes. No lakes, just rather wet moors, and clouds of midges. I beat a hasty retreat, easy, back down the hills, no pedalling, just much speed. Then followed the coast south for a ways. A very low tide revealed sandy patches amongst the rocks, and the sea in the disttance. Thoughts of a swim were postponed. 

Many boats collecting in the harbour, prior to the last bit south to Bodø, for the Coastal Society KYSTEN’s Gathering. We left early, so as not to mix plastic with wood, and were in time to find a berth and get organised before the flotillas arrived, one from the north from Kjerringøy, and one from the south, from Bliksvær. The latter first, headed by “Faxsen”, a splendid example of the art, and celebrating its 100th birthday.

Followed by over 100 boats, of all sizes, from “Faxsen” down to a rowing boat, and this excellent example of a “Nordlands” boat, quite genuine and antique.

The harbour was absolutely full, and much festivity followed, friendships renewed, stories told with some altitude no doubt.

These beautiful boats and many others took part in a regatta, a sunny day, but very little wind, and few finished the course within the allotted time. I followed the regatta from on board “Faxsen”, which thumped its way around on the perifery. Yes, thumped. Engine is a single cylinder, 50 HP Wichman semi-diesel, which does about 200 rpm flat out. At idle, at which we spent most of the time, it thumped about every normal heartbeat. Photography, unless you had a camera with effective anti-shake, was mostly blurred, as “Faxsen” nodded. 

Many activities: make a rope, tie knots, sew a sail, chew dreid cod, watch a boat-builder at work on a small rowing boat, watch another making oars, eat waffles, look at but not buy trinkets, avoid the fortune teller lady, ask what the Vikins stand was all about, apart from the small bonfire, watch a Sami lassoo a reindeer, (well, just the horns on a stand), eat fresh shrimp off the trawler, buy a new KYSTEN cap and pennant, chat, admire, buy succulent smoked salmon, wander, shelter from the rainshower, listen to several lectures, back to Josin for a snooze. Saturday evening the grand dinner. Three courses of seafood, starting with marinated, thinly-sliced whale meat. Different. Then more recognisable foods. Most enjoyable company, on the edge of the KYSTEN’s organisers group. Amusing speeches, lyrical songs and risque stories. Prizes for many. Noise level increased gradually and persistently until I had to seek shelter in the lounge. Got invited to go aboard one of these Nordlands boats, lots of partying people under the squaresail-made-into-an-awning, two guitars and text-knowledgeable songsters. Magic. Eventually the very cold draught drove me home to Josin, but the party carried on well into the larger small hours. 

Sunday was quiet, but enlivened by two rowing races, one for anyone, and one for the youths. Apparently traditional, over several nautical miles, and cheeringly even in the result. Then came heavy rain, and activity stopped. Poor sales-stands people in extensive puddles. Lowest part of the roadway. Weather being now inclement, it was therefore hunker down and wait until next day, today. Rain didn’t stop until lunchtime, so it was a late start, going south. Sailed for several hours, in strong winds and choppy seas on the bow. Refreshing. Wind backed, but still blew. On with engine, down sails. Uncomfortable. Shorter day’s passage than planned, to Sørfugløy, (pos: 67 03,12 / 013 46,39). Several boats with the same conclusion. Better weather forecast for tomorrow. Hope so. Goal for the next few days is southalong, back to Vega for the Open Day festivities there on friday. Last time, Josin gave joyrides. We’ll see.

All’s well

A gentle wander, then a scuttle in inclement weather, south from Nordskot to Hjelløya, (pos: 67 32,75 / 014 39,16), a natural harbour in the islands just west of Kjerringøy. There a convenient mooring buoy awaited. Picture looking east, with the mountains behind and north of Kjerringøy. Taken when we left, on the second morning, in very promising sunshine.

A slow sail in a northerly breeze in to Kjerringøy guest harbour, and as it was early in the day, there were several spots to choose between, luxury!

And the sunshine continues. Yesterday, monday, was a lazy day doing a bit of maintenance, wandering and shopping.

View from the path above the harbour, Josin at the right hand end of the pontoon. If the picture is sharp enough, you may be able to see the mountains of the Lofoten chain in the far background.

The evening promised clear, so the alarm was set to 00:45 in the hopes of seeing the midnight sun this time. Unfortunately not quite clear enough, and the mountains in the north are a bit in the way, but a wonderful sight none the less. Taken at exactly geographical midnight.

Today, tuesday, the sun is still shining, from a slightly hazy blue sky, and everyone is relaxed and affected by the remarkable warmth. Aromas of suncreams and lotions as one walks past the moored boats.

Reckon I will get out the bike and explore the local area a bit. The tourist map of the area lists many attractions.

Washing machine is beeping ready.

All’s well.

Yes, we did sail, some of the way at least, to Svolvær, in rather bumpy conditions. The SW’er had blown up quite a sea, and the waves hadn’t died down much. As the wind gradually died, we got thoroughly rolled and I was glad we finally entered the harbour. We were fortunate that another boat left a pontoon just before we got there, so we could squeeze into the otherwise overfull guestharbour, right in the center of town.

I wanted to see more of the area, and as we hade “done” most of the Lofoten chain on previous occasions, this time it was to be by bus. About as far north as I could get, and back, in a day was Andenes, on Andøy. So, 09:40, bus, bus, ferry, bus, Sortland coffee break, bus, bus, Andenes, dinner break, bus, bus, bus Svolvær 20:45. Amusing waiting at the bus station in Svolvær, a gradual gathering croud of hopeful travellers. Bus waiting. “No, no. Not this bus, but buy ticket, ticket”. Actually quite rational, as the customers were from many lands and the buying-ticket process took much time, especially as the ticket-seller spoke very little, but repetitive, English. Rapid boarding of the travelling bus resulted. Comfortable ride. Good views, even though the weather was overcast and the light very flat. So, as the bus windows were not very clean, no pics, sorry! Interval on the ferry, enough for a sandwich and coffee, then on a smaller bus, with lower seatbacks and better view.

The landscape was incredibly varied, from almost flat to towering and surprisingly green mountains. A new view around each corner, of which there were many. Busy driver! New fjord-inlet, with tied-up fishing boats. Little bay with dingies moored. Green pastures, newly cut hay and tractor-eggs. Few active farms. Many small ones looking tired and abandoned. Several farmhouses tidied up and used as a summer cottoge. East side of Andøy mostly peatbog, including one area actively cut. Enormously distant views of fjords and the northern ocean. No reindeer. Many gulls. One sea eagle, hunting. 

The last bus from to Andenes turned out to be different. Gradually fewer passengers until just two left. A french girl and me. Interesting ‘conversation’ between french girl and driver, she wanting help to find her friends in Andenes, in very quiet Franglish. He, much louder, repetitive, in Norwenglish. I moved forward and interlocuted. Yes, some school- French helped. Arrived in Andenes and the driver was very helpful, shouting to friends, (he was from the next village), some of them visible, until the French girl was safely guided. Calm ensued, and I asked the driver where the return bus went from. ” You want to see the west side?” Er, yes please. OK. You be there! Bus shelter! Four o’clock sharp! OK? Sure I’ll be there. The somewhat later bus which I was supposed to catch travelled the same route back, not so interesting.

Just time for a visit to the local “Fengselet”, (jail), actually a restaurant, and a delicious fish soup, large bowl and lots of good things in it. Five to four and I joined a talkative youth in the bus shelter, hiding from the weather. Four precisely, the bus arrived with the wind and rain helping it along. The same driver, who chatted with the youth and another passenger on local news. Next village, his home, and the two others decended. So I had the bus, and the driver to myself for the next hour or so. Most enjoyable, entertaining and educational. He was a mine of info. Stopped for a wet and distant view of the launching site for testing of missiles. (Colleagues from Kongsberg have certainly spent time here). Stopped the bus to look at a rocky mountainside falling into the sea, with a large cross under a sort of overhang. Popular place to get married apparently. Stopped to encourage taking photo of the spectacular rock formations further along the coast. Unfortunately too much rain for risking the camera, so no pics. Finally an offer to organise other buses, so I could travel other ways back to Svolvær. Yes please! His mobile busy. Big smile and all in order. We wait for the next bus at the side of the road. Big handshake goodbye, and a thousand thanks. Absolutely rememberable afternoon. He probably enjoyed it almost as much as I did. What an incredible service! Nice people up her north. Similar bus-exchange further on, after a ten minute pause, with well-earned shut-eye. A long day for that driver apparently. Last bus the same as the first, pretty full, and less view, and the same ‘ticket ticket’ driver, now silent. Back in Svolvær again, neck- and eye-tired, buy hot pizza, eat, bed and sleep. What a day!

And so back across the Vestfjord, with an almost-sailable wind, and a lunch stop in Skrova on the way, just so as we’d done that. On the way out of Skrova, who should come drifting in in all her sailing magnificance, was Eileen 11, a recently-restored schooner form the thirties. I felt very little, and almost new!

Back in Nordskot, a visit to the local museum, with a very large and well-preserved collection of old boat engines, and a knowledgeable guide. And a pleasant evening on board “New Horizons” from Aldeborough, where Gruncle used to enjoy a sail, according to our yellowing photo album. Today rain again, and a somnolent wait for the event of the evening, a talk by a famous explorer and adventurer. Here in this little place? Apparently a popular climbing area. 

Next, potter south, to Kjerringøy on the 12th, for the start of the Old Boats and Coast Culture rally.

All’s well

Yesterday at Kjerringøy it rained and blew, but the forecast was for clearing and breezes, so it was time for waiting, and reading, and snoozing. The forecast checked, and at a quarter past nine in the evening we set off under a clear blue sky and about 10 knots of wind on the beam. Perfect. The aim was to sail until I could see the midnight sun, (actually at 01:00 due to summertime). 

A perfect sail!!  The wind varied a bit in both strength and direction, due to mountains creating channels, but the engine was silent, until we got to the tricky bits before Nordskot. The sun got lower and lower, but unfortunately a bank of cloud began to build in the north west, and sure enough, the two met just before the magic moment. Took a pocture though:

There it is, the bottom half just peeping out under the cloud between two mountains in the Lofot chain. Slight disappointment, but my! What a wonderful sail! Before the clouds came, and as we were sailing north, seeing navigation hazards wasn’t easy. Kept on getting a sun-blob on the retina. 
Again a blustery, almost-raining day, with the promise of better to come, so I plan to sail the 25 nm to Svolvær this evening. Weather wasn’t stopping these two, getting the engine ready for the trip to Bodø for the old-boats-meeting. It took a bit of encouragement with a spraycan, but belched into chugging life. And off they went, on a succesful trial run.

From Selsøyvik via Bolga to Støtt. (pos: 66 55.53 / 013 26.25).

Still the same old wind direction, but a nice sunny day. Just out of the Selsøyvik channel, and heading east to the wide fjord, a large ship appeared from behind Rødøy. A coastal steamer. These ply the west coast, from Bergen all the way round to Kirkenes. (Same procedure every day). I turned around and pottered back to near the Selsøyvik channel, because that is on their route, and I wanted to see how it fitted, as the channel isn’t all that wide. No problem of course, but I’m glad I wasn’t in the way.

A while later, an even bigger ship appeared, coming south. Saga Sea, one of these gigantic cruise ships. 7 decks of cabins, all with outside view and small balcony. I was prepared for a large wash and bouncy bouncy, but no. Astonishingly small wash, and no need to take avoiding action at all. Ships designers must have got it right!

Strange meteorological phenomena. Humidity was high and each island produced a hat-cloud. Rødøy produced a series of hats, which drifted downwind. Thought of “Puff the Magic Dragon”, but it was the “Lion” of Rødøy which was doing the puffing.

Bolga was sort of on the way, so we had a lunch stop there. Not much going on, except when the ferry came, thump, and went. The local shop received fresh pastries, so one was bought to enjoy with the after-lunch coffee. (Yes Margie, very sticky!).

Støtt has a very unusual guest harbour, with a low island in the middle of the approach, and a large sign, readable even for rheumy eyes, shouting the depth at low tide each side. It was low tide. A large cabin cruiser occupied the end berth on the deep side, effectively blocking that route, so we crept round the shallow side, with a nominal half meter to spare. The waters here around are an incredibly clear green, (must have something to do with the cold temperature), and the bottom was very visible and apparently very close. No bump. No problem.

Støtt has also a very good restaurant. Went in to pay the harbour dues, and there was a couple with the most beautifully presented plate of fish. Had to have it! Baked dried cod, with bacon bits, mushy peas, (ah, the colour and taste!), new potatoes and flower-like garnish.

Yes it was also very good to eat. Too replete for desert. Needed some exercise afterwards, so wandered, and arrived at the ferry jetty just before the ferry docked. Same vessel as was seen at Bolga earlier. And the same “driver”. Much use of revs to maneuver and a goodly thump on final arrival. The ex-tractor tires took a beating.

From Støtt via Fleinvær to Bliksvær.

Weather forecast for the next day was for a gentle (northerly), warm sunny day, with easterly breeze later. So the gennaker on it’s new roller-furler was removed from the locker where it has been stowed for a month, and hoisted, preparatory to expected use. Yes, the forecast was partially right, but the wind blew at 20 to 25 knots instead of the forecast 10 to 15, so the sail stayed furled. Pity. Great sailing on the genoa only though.

Fleinvær is a large collection of islands, previously with fishing communities, but now the houses are mainly holiday homes. Some new ones, some startling!

Also with good, sheltered anchoring places, so we anchored for lunch and a short snooze, it was that sort of windless lazy. But also good conditions for more leakage-seeking and stopping. Decided to re-caulk the windows, in the hope that that would help. Then the weather changed, as expected, and we were blown to Bliksvær.

Lots more islands and a tricky way in to the small harbour, and place for three guest boats. There were two there already, and the space in between looked just slightly more than Josin long. Check. Strong current upset my approach calculations somewhat, but defensive help from the other boats saved the day.

Apparently there is only one permanent resident, and he built a small church, as the burial ground didn’t have one.

PS. this is sent from Bodø. Intermittent internet. Hope it goes.

Alls well

 

St Hans evening party was somewhat reduced, as Britt was unfortunately ill, but the was a bonfire on the beach, eggnogg, burnt sausages, pop, chatter, laughter and midges. The latter were irritating. Everyone was batting away with something, a hand, a cap, a scarf, whatever available. Early departure!

We didn’t leave on friday, strong north wind again, or saturday, but frustration was overcome on sunday, slightly less wind but still from the north, and we motored the few hours to Hjartoy (pos: 66 oo.38 / 012 24.42), and anchored in a perfect natural harbour. The wind varied in both direction and strength during the night, but the anchor held.

Hjartoy to Sandnessjoen (pos: 66 01.33 / 012 77.71) didn’t take long, under a threatening sky and later rain. The Foen wind blew, and the temperature shot up to over 20 degrees. Strange. And rows of wave clouds, lenticulars for the meteorologically savvy, stretched downwind. Impossible to photograph. The intention was to carry on after filling up with diesel and food, but it was so miserable that we stayed put for the night.

We left Sandnessjoen reasonably early, and saw, from the middle of the harbour, this:

Had to do a pirouette to get time to fetch the camera, folk must have wondered!

With a gentle westerly wind and nearly flat sea, the sails were hoisted and although boat speed wasn’t impressive, a strong current, with this time, made progress passable, and at last the engine could be stopped. Bliss! Instead of following the main channel, I headed out to sea, with the hope of getting an unrestricted breeze. Check. Lasted all of four hours, before gradually dying away.

Strange meteorological conditions. Cloudbase was only about 150 meters, and all the mountain tops were blanketed, some with a plume downwind. One island had this rather Trumpish “hat”

Motor-sailing, then just motor, over the Polar Circle, at 66 33.77, blew the horn but only the gulls heard, then in to Selsoyvik, (pos: 66 34.51 / 012 58.81).

Been here several times before, and always a kind welcome  Missus very busy with preparations for daughter’s wedding on saturday.

Now that we are north of the Polar Circle, there is the possibility of seeing the midnight sun, but several contions need to be fulfilled, specially that of the sun. It may happen, but don’t hold your breath. Pictures will be taken. It isn’t midnight yet, but the sunset is quite a sight.

Alls well.

 

 

 

Fra Brønnøysund to Vega startet well, as forecast, but the increase in wind came much earlier, so the last hour and few miles were a wet, bouncy, splashy time in a gale, 30 knots. Arrival at Vegstein was down wind and a tricky maneuver into the space beside the bouncing pontoon, on which stood the brave reception committee of Knut, Sturla and Johan, stalwarts of the local maritime preservation society, and friends from earlier visits. Yes please, a hot coffee would be very welcome. That was friday.

It is now tuesday morning, the intervening days have been cold, windy and partially wet, but the summer was gloriously here yesterday for the whole day. Light breeze, blue sky and warmer, and a perfect day to have at those places of potential leaks, at last!. Lots of dismantling, skraping of old sealant and re-sealing. Found also several very narrow cracks, both in earlier repairs and new ones. Maybe it was these which have been the sinners. Borrowed tools from Johan to grind out. New polyester filler. Sunny dry-out. It is now raining again, so frequent inspection for drips today.

My consultant services were used on saturday to design a support for an enormous, ancient grindstone, donated to the museum here, and later to hold the box of screws and hand them out one by one. Sturla held in place, Knut screwed electrically and Johan supervised. (I think there is a picture of it somewhere on this blogsite). Most satisfying to be able to contribute. The structure got its second coat of barn-red paint this morning, the results will have to wait until it gets dragged out into the daylight. It was quite dark in the shed out of the wind and rain. Not much paint on my overalls, just one small mark, on the right knee, as a memento.

The museum/cafe was officially opened yesterday, 11 to 16 every day, and a few tourists came. Britt is in charge, and ensures piles of delicious waffles and liters of coffee (made in an well-battered kettle of impressive size), are ready for customers. Luckily for the workers and their assistants, there is enough for mugs of coffee in the well-earned pauses, and even a waffle if one asks nicely. (Britt usually cooks a few too many). This consultant was also used because of his command of the International, English, language to communicate with diverse foreigners. The men are impressed with Johan’s various engines, in loud motion, and the women ask Britt for her waffle recipe.

I’ll be here for the Midsummer Eve party on thursday evening. Forecast is reasonably realistic for a traditional bonfire, but you never know. But leaving will depend on a sailable wind. I just don’t care for motoring into a cold, splashy northerly any more. Friday afternoon or saturday could be promising.

More reading, as it is raining, then maybe a coffee, maybemaybe a waffle.

All’s well

At last a decent internet connection. I have in previous years praised the system on Josin, ICE. But after an upgrading last autumn, I’m not so generous. Right here in Brønnøysund the speed is enough to part your hair, but up along the coast there has been more nothing than something, and the something pathetic.I suspect problems at the transmitter end. I have had my bits checked by proffs.  So, no bloggs. No reading the newspapers on the iPad with the early morning cuppa. No weather forecasts! Well, forecasts haven’t been all that necessary: Northerly winds of varying strength, mainly strong.

So, from Vaagland, up the long, long Trondheimsleia, past another of Oil-Norway’s installations, Tjelbergodden, with it’s five, or was it six, unused gas turbine generator sets, to Børøysund, where there is a very good restaurant, but alas, it being a sunny saturday evening, the harbour was more than full and loudspeaker music spoke loud.So: Plan B. To Dypfest, (pos: 63 46,90 / 009 34,62), another three hours away, so that was a very long day. Dypfest harbour is only affected by northerly winds, and it was a  it of a struggle to get tied up. No-one around, well, it was nearly ten o’clock, and some quick food and sleep. Next day it blew even harder, so we stayed put, and slept some extra. Maintenance. Including the boater’s worst job. Successful luckily.

Dypfest to Bessaker, (pos: 64 14,88 / 010 19,15). The last two hours, on flat protected water and a marginal angle to the wind, was spent fine-tuning the sails and getting a surprising increase in boat speed. We live and learn, even about sailing! Bessaker is the summer home to German fishing-tourists. Almost all the jetty-space was occupied by fishing dingies, and German cars parked everywhere. Even a Trabant! Very serious fishermen at the filletting table, too busy to communicate, while filletting a seriously large catch. Adjacent Kro, or pub/restaurant had fish and chips on the menu. Yes, you’ve guessed!

Bessaker to Brakstad, (pos: 64 40,39 / 011 11,77). The last bit in an easterly direction so we sailed for the inside of an hour. Another ‘harbour’ affected by north winds, small, deserted. Previous visits have been more lively, but it is still early in the season, and a weekday.  Payment of harbour fees by ‘app’. But no internet available to download the ‘app’. Have to pay on the way back.

Brakstad to Rørvik. Town this time, guest jetty with space, but on the ‘wrong’ side, ie south, which in a strong northerly wind was again a problem. Solved this time with a sort of lasso that can be thrown over something solid. Needed two tries, in the meantime dangerous drifting almost into other boats. Phew! Help arrived just as things were under control. Next door was that Nordlands boat, no-one on it, but a large banner ‘Stop Sellafield’ straining at the mast. Maybe that crew had also had enough of the northerlies and had taken a break. Tanked up with large quantities of diesel, not so cheap here.

Borrowed someone else’s WiFi to look at the weather forecast, which was for ever-increasing winds next day, so decided to start early. Alarm for 5, but woke at 4, and away by 5.30! Nice and calm. No traffic. Boring. Lots of coffee. Lunch was taken very early. Brønnøysund at two-thirty. Snooze. Ships chandlers to buy a new fender. The exhaust from the cabin heater, (yes, it has been in frequent use), blows onto a pulpit-hanging fender if one forgets to move it. Exhaust hot enough to soften the plastic, and then the internal pressure blows a hole, with ‘pop’. Stupid. I’ve done it before. Expensive ‘pop’ that!

Forecast for tomorrow is similar, with rain later, so another early start, about four hours to Vega, where we will stay a few days. Help available to ‘hold the other end’ in the battle to stop the leaks.

All’s well

 

 

Remember your nursery rhymes?

The north wind shall blow,

and we’ll get no snow,

but sailing against it is grim.

So we clothe us real well

to help keep us warm

with the engine doing it’s best, poor thing.

 

It has been a week since the last posting, from Florø, and the sun has shone from a cloudless sky most days, but this north wind is chilly, rarely over 10 degrees. Sometimes the angle tempts me to unfurl the sails, but only seldom do they get to be effective.

Terrain north of Florø is more mountainous, on both sides of the fjord, so the wind blows either against or with. If a side-fjord, then sometimes side-wind, but not for long. Then there are ‘down’ winds, when they curl over the high mountain and down onto the surface. With sails up, this can be exciting, so it is to be avoided.

Another rather wet ride to Måløy, and again suspicious behaviour by the AIS, so next day, which would have been far too windy to carry on, round the Stad peninsular, was spent re-locating various units to dryer places, getting expert and friendly help from the local radioshop to make up new cables and check that it was all working correctly. Sigh of relief!

Surprise arrival was a real Nordlands boat, on a Norwegian Greenpeace mission round the coast to drum up support to close down the Sellafield nuclear plant. Skipper was from a place way up north, with characteristic ability to amuse, and a genuine appreciation of an ‘anchor dram’, (provided by me), to shoo away the wet and cold ride, (it is an open boat, nothing to hide behind). Local paper turned up, interviewed and took pictures. Maybe we will meet again further north. If you are interested, look up “www.neptunenetwork.org”.

Late afternoon we pottered the short distance to Selje island, pos:(62 03,16 / 005 17,74), where St Sunniva was shipwrecked and founded a kloister. Two german masons, repairing the tower, and an eagle, way up on the ridge, feeding two very large young, to plaintive squeaks and raucus squauks. The evening potter was to shorten the distance to Stad, rounding which was forecast to be allright next day. It was correct. Early start, in very easy conditions, which lasted until a few hours before Ålesund. We were not the earliest, as four other boats had started from Måløy, and we were in convoy. Nice to be able to follow them all on AIS, and call them up to ask if they could see me. Yes, it was working fine. No problem.

Two nights in Ålesund, the intervening day, again very sunny, but blowing hard, was used to ride the busses to find electrical things, and shop. Enormous cruise ships in the commercial harbour. An Aussie couple on the bus were irritated but glad when I could tell them that, yes, they were on the right bus, but going the wrong way to the Aquarium. Strewth!

From Ålesund to Tornes, pos:(62 50,19 / 007 02,53), and the wind gradually veered enough to SAIL. Four glorious hours. At last! Balm for the soul.

From Tornes to Kristiansund, again against the wind, and on a bouncy, spray-ey sea, enough to make even me feel queasy. Or was it the sardines for lunch. Revolting, maybe in both senses of the word.

Intended to stay the night in K, but in the early evening, a band started to warm up and test its powerful equipment, all too close to the guest harbour, so I skapered. Westward into the deep fjords, past an enormous offshore floating drilling rig, parked for the duration, to a little protected side fjord, and Vaaland, pos:(63 07,40 / 008 15,90), where there was a jetty, a deserted boat-builders yard, and no-one. Loud hello’s didn’t get response, so I tied up and enjoyed the quiet. Next morning was magic in the sunrise. Mirror water. Not a sound. Majestic, snow-spattered mountains.

And now we are on our way again. Northerly breeze of course. Maybe as far as Børøysund. We’ll see.

 

All’s well.