Category: Uncategorized

From Støtt to Vegstein

So, no gourmet dinner at Støtt, but the rain stopped during the night, and conditions were OK next morning for motorsailing on to Rødøya, (66 39.9 / 013 13.4), where we arrived early afternoon, and a hoped-for gourmet dinner at the Klokkergården there.

The famous Rødøyløve (Red Island Lion), seen unusually of his back, from the NW. The normal pic is from the S, and really does look like a reclining lion.

Checked in to the restaurant to book a table, and was told in Polish-English that it was sold out in the evening, but I could have a meal earlier. We compromised on 4 o’clock, a bit early, but the metabolism could be persuaded.

Scollops as a starter followed by Baked Sea Trout. Both delicious. Unusual dandering with mild pickled onion. Desert taken on board, with the last of the strawberries bought in Bodø, a bit mushy, but just as tasty. There are no better-tasting strawberries than those ripened under the long Norwegian summer sunshine.

Had just dozed off to humour the digestion, when I was hull-knocked awake by a boat-helper who asked if I wouldn’t mind hauling off to make room for a larger sailing boat to tie up, with Josin outside. A 55 footer, seemed very large, and I needed a ladder to climb up to its deck from Josin’s, to go ashore. I had got used to the pitching motion of Josin in the wind-driven waves driving into the harbour, but attached to a much longer boat we danced in unsynchronised motion. Disturbing. Didn’t sleep too well that night, so left very early against the southerly wind to motor the short distance to Selsøyvik, (66 34.5 / 012 58.8). Not much better there, but a couple of hours on the ear helped.

There is a well-known Salmon smokery at Selsøyvik, and the shop provided a large piece, to be enjoyed later. Set off again after lunch, motoring again into a gradually reducing southerly wind, but a current in the right direction, sailing the last hour or so to Hjertøya, (66 00.5 / 012 24.8), always one of my stops, and anchored up in company with four other sailboats. Busy! On the way we passed another strangely shaped mountain, and a sea eagle perched on the high point of a small island. An iPhone’s zoom is not really strong enough, but the long-lens camera was stowed down below and couldn’t be readied quickly enough. You must just imagine what a splendid sight it was.

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After a quiet night, the next day dawned to a partly-sunny sky and a gentle NW wind, and we experienced a challenging sail almost all the way to Vegstein (65 41.2 / 012 01.6). Sailing through the string of islands meant the water was flat, and I much enjoyed frequent fine-trimming the sails to optimise boat speed. Managed almost the same as true wind speed. Not often that is achieved.

Vegstein for several days, the first one in clement weather, but the rest in driving rain and southerly near-gales. Much worse further north. News called it the first of the autumn storms. Rather too early i reckon. What else is in store?

Alls well.

South again, from Harstad.

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A few pics of interesting mountains to ease the boredom of the next stages.

We left Harstad strategically timed to get through Tjeldsund, (68 34.0 / 016 31.4), so as to enjoy the current going the right way. It wasn’t nearly as strong as when going north, but helped, until we got to the south-going stretch (68 30.2 / 016 09.1), down to Lødingen, when it turned against. Tried sail-help here, but it didn’t last. Tied up at the visitors pontoon in Lødingen harbour, (69 24.9 / 015 39.7), after asking the water-scooter brigade to organise themselves a bit. Later three of them had fun. For them. Earplugs helped. Then they either got tired, too wet and cold, or ran out of fuel, and peace descended again.

Next day, wednesday 7th July already, promised SW wind and waves against later, so we started early. Motored all day, with occasional hopeful help from the genua. It was overcast and almost drizzly, and no good for pics, although plenty of mountains to the east to peer at through the gloom. A real boring, 68 nm day. Got to a favourite place, Hjelløya (67 32.8 / 014 39.1), where there is a public mooring buoy, unfortunately occupied, so I anchored. Of course it blew up during the night, right into the bay, and the growling of the dragging anchor woke me up, (must have been half-waiting for it). 3 am, in the rain and strong wind, is not the most congenial time, but two attempts to re-set the anchor didn’t succeed, so we rushed corkscrewing downwind in rolypoly waves the few miles to Kjerringøy harbour, (67 31.3 / 014 45.7), which was more than full, the blustery wind creating a string-orchestra in the rigging of all the cowering sailing boats. One place between outriggers was open, really? How odd. But…with a sign, “private”. Who is there to worry, or ask, at 4 am? Tie up. Sleep. After breakfast I asked everyone I could find, in still the rain and wind, as to who owned the spot, but had to give up. It appeared that this northern part of the harbour with a long row of sheds on the breakwater with boat spaces in front, was in separate ownership from the rest of the harbour. No owners present. Conscience salved. Leave.

Onward south, under slightly better conditions, but still against, the 20 nm to Bodø, arriving just after the timely, late morning rutine exodus of several motor-cruisers, leaving a space for Josin. (67 16.9 / 014 22.4). Spent the rest of the day re-rigging the newly-repaired gennaker, its bowsprit, roller furling with endless rope, and sheets. Looking forward to action tomorrow, if the forecast holds.

Saturday, (happy birthday Ida) dawned early, cloudless, and a gentle northerly wind. Very promising. At last some sailing. Yes. After only a motoring hour to head out into open water, up went the gennaker, unrolling with the usual gentle flapping until tamed, and we sailed. Shut down trusty engine. Peace at last!

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The wind was a perfect 10 to 12 knots, and we smoothed along at about 5 knots for several delightful hours, having to gybe occasionally to maintain course through the few islands until we neared the strangely-shaped headland of Kunna, (66 58.6 / 013 55.5), when out of nowhere the wind blew suddenly and strongly, and I had to get very busy. I achieved a rope wuzzle during the in-rolling, and the sail had to come down via the water again. Too many ropes for too few hands. No damage this time. Getting better at this! (I think I know the solution for avoiding the wuzzle next time).

Genua sail at exhilarating speed round Kunna and in to Støtt, (66 55.5 / 013 26.1), for lunch, recuperation, drying sail and a snooze. Later, a sailboat tied up in the spot beside me, another who had had gennaker problems, so we commiserated and compared techniques and notes. A little wiser! Later, the rain came pelting on the wind, so I gave up going to the restaurant. Pity. I’d been looking forward to that. Salmon and diverse veg at home instead.

Sunday 11th, another restaurant. Report later.

Alls well.

From Harstad to Gratangen

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The weather changed from chilly, to not so chilly to suddenly summer, and stayed like that for several days. Most enjoyable! The locals knew how to take advantage of the sunshine and the sidewalk cafés and ice cream sellers were doing a goodly trade.

We headed to Gratangen, in blue sky, clear sunshine, flat calm sea, and motored all the five hours. The goal there was the North Norway Traditional Boat Museum, right at the bottom end of the fjord, local name Gratangsbotn. (All the deep fjords worthy of the name have a “botn”. Logical, isn’t it?). (68 40.2 / 017 40.0). Visitors to the museum are presumably expected to arrive by road, not boat, as there wasn’t really anywhere to tie up.

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Luckily there was Lars, owner of one of the runabouts at the pontoon there, who agreed that as long as the weather stayed stable and fine, it was OK for Josin to perch on the end, so we stayed. After some late lunch and a snooze, I was awakened by a family of Mum and four children, arriving to take a dip. 15 year girl showed the way and plunged, (water temp 14,2 C), but the rest needed encouragement by shouts and squeals, but they all went in, one or two just-in-and-out. Mum sat on a bench and paid attention.

A gentle walk past a garden with a large sailboat hiding in the tall nettles, over a field, bombed by angry gulls protecting their nests, a rickety bridge over the stream and then round the end of the local football pitch brought me to the museum, where a sit on the terrasse in the sun with a cup of coffee was well-deserved.

A very well-organised museum. Lots of boats, some more than 100 years old, of middling to small sizes, all with a history given in three languages, and some other interesting articles. Spent several hours there, awed.

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I still marvel at the lines of these boats, developed over the millennium, formed by basic tools and cunning use of the characteristics of newly-hewn trees, and a craftman’s tradition passed down over the generations. They slide through the water so easily and are remarkably stable.

In a coppice beside the museum was a memorial to those who fell in the battle here at the beginning of the occupation of Norway in WW 2. It was here that they held out longest apparently.

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Next morning, a knock on the bow and a loud “Hello” brought me out to meet Tore Meyer, an elderly gentleman with walking stick who turned out to be the owner of the sailboat in the nettles, who invited me to coffee and a chat. Unfortunate fellow. Had had two heart attacks earlier and had lost the ability and drive to finish his boat. He told me all about it and also his other boating adventures, over several cups of coffee. Very generous these people up here in the north. He offered me the use of his car “because you really need to look around a bit”. Yes please! An Audi with six gears and very many horsepower, needed taming. So I drove into the hinterland, with feather-light right toe and realised why this area had been so strategic for the occupiers. The old road was the only connection north-south over the mountain. Now replaced by a modern road with sweeping bends, stunning views and no lay-bys. No stopping. I drove quite a way before I found a turnoff to turn around.

Next morning, back to Harstad, motoring. A stop in Foldvik to see the boatyard and workshops where they restore old boats, but unfortunately little activity, cos it was monday and holiday times had started. During the day I received a message saying the gennaker had arrived, so next morning puttered round down into the end of the harbour where the agent was, to collect it. On the way back, stopped to fill up with diesel. Back in the town and intending to go and buy some fresh bread before setting off south…… No bank card! (used to buy fuel). Back to the pump. No. Telephone to my bank and a helpful lady did the necessary and organised a new card to be collected in Trondheim. Fortunately a credit card will tide me over. Moral. Have a spare!

A hoped-for ride in a sailplane at nearby Salangen couldn’t occur, as the towplane wasn’t in order. Next opportunity, late July. Bother. Too late. Onward, back southbound.

All is otherwise well!

From Bodø to Harstad.

We spent three days in Bodø, the last two kept in by the wind, which blew steady 25 knots in the harbour, easing during monday night and tuesday morning sufficiently that further boating was in order. Even the fresh-shrimp trawler didn’t appear. Chilly temperature, only 10 degrees, so on with all wool layers available.

We set off late morning, hoping for a sail, but the wind hadn’t just eased, it had dropped almost completely, so we motorsailed the short distance to Hjelløy, (67 32.8 / 014 39.3) just west of Kjerringøy, where there is a mooring buoy in a snug bay. Quiet night.

Wednesday morning was still overcast and chilly, and it was almost drizzling too, so a short motorsail to Nordskot was enough before the cold creeps up “from the toes and ankles, calves and knees and then bit by bit”….. Thankyou Belloc. Rigged up the wind vane self-steering during the evening, in the hopes…..

1st July, thursday, started promisingly with a forecast of sunshine and a usable SW wind to take us up the Vestfjord. it happened! So we started early, seven o’clock and enjoyed a roly-poly sail all the way to Lødingen, (68 24.7 / 16 00.3), 45 nautical miles. The seas build up well in a SW’er in the Vestfjord, they have a very long fetch into a narrowing space. The wind was on the port quarter, but the waves were from dead aft, combining to create a cork-screw motion in Josin. Not comfortable! Must admit I was a bit weary of the continuous movement, and so were both the wind pilot and the autopilot, neither of which could cope properly, so I had to steer the boat myself at times. Oh dear!

Managed to take a pic or two before the motion prohibited photography!

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Leaving Norskot. Mountain tops with hats. The “Hammarøy Skaft”, a very tall peak.

Good long late-afternoon rest in Lødingen, before much clicking and reading and calculating the probable currents in the somewhat narrow fjords leading to Harstad, which I didn’t “time” last year. Found out that I needed to cover nearly 20 nm before 09:00, or wait 12 hours. That was a challenge, but up and at it and away just after 5. Took more time than usual to untie as the next-door motor cruiser’s skipper had multi-coiled and knotted his thick ropes on top of mine, (etiquette says that those that come after, tie up under existing ropes, but that guy obviously didn’t know). Disturbed him though, as a sleepy head appeared at a window, looking worried as i strived. I bowed and waved as we left.

Friday turned out to be a very succesful boating day. We sailed, windvane steering a lot of the time, with needed help from the engine in the most current-turbulent places, making fantastic progress in marvelous sunshine, (though still chilly). I had hit the tides and currents just right, as a lot of the time we had 2 kts with us and over 3 kts at the narrowest places. Whoooooosh!. Fun!

We arrived sufficiently early in Harstad (68 48.1 / 016 32.8), that the dawdling motorcruisers hadn’t left yet, but there was just space left for Josin: (Pic taken later). A new standard in “Houseboats” maybe?

Need to stay in the area of Harstad for a few days until the gennaker sail arrives from Elvstrøm Seil after repair, but first some fresh bread and a trip to the delikatessen in the town square here, and a long snooze.

Alls well

From Støtt to Bodø

The restaurant at Støtt was luckily still open, although the chef had clocked off for the evening. (Obs: Closing time 20:00). The building has been a trading posdt for several centuries, and the present owner is 5th generation. Plenty of ancient things and nostalgia, tho with modern facilities. This is a panoramic photo, and I’m not sure if it will show.

I was served Bacalao, (google it), one of the best I’ve tasted, followed by a delicious dessert of cheesecake, berries and cream.

Next morning, friday, was overcast and lightly raining which would soon cease. Out of the harbour, the wind was on the port quarter, tantalisingly weak, so we motorsailed all the way to Bodø, (67 16.9 / 014 22.3) in intermittent light showers. Glad to get there. Cuppa. But….

Surprise when trying to fill the kettle. No water in the tap. Pump pumping. Tank level gauge shows empty. What! Where? In the bilge of course, lowest point in the boat. Job for tomorrow. Water in the hose on the pontoon. Tea brewed and enjoyed.

Josin’s incontinence had spread. Strange noises from the filtered water pump, and more water in the bilge, this time via the cabin floor. Oh dear. The joys of boating! This time it was the filter which had split its top. Saturday, out with the bike, and pedalled to all the five places in Bodø which google said dealt in boatbits. Two not open on a saturday, two closed permanently, and the only one open had decided he couldn’t compete with internet sales and was having a closure sale. No filter. Back to boat.

Several hours later, a good layering of epoxy glue and several meters of string as reinforcement around the split, a repaired filter was reinstalled and the pump switched on. Water, no leaks or funny noises. Job done!

It was a day of strong winds, (hard pedalling in the one direction), and forecast for today continuing so. It checked. So out with the to-do list and potter. Lazy day. Weather improving and probable reasonable wind conditions tomorrow. Hope so. Bodø has rather lost its charm, and the fresh-shrimp-selling trawler has not returned. Pity, that is one of Bodø harbour’s very popular attractions.

Both friday and saturday evenings had been remarkably and thankfully quiet here in the harbour square, normally hopping, due to the blustery wind and chilly temperature, so the revellers revelled indoors. Sleep was not disturbed.

Alls well.

From Brønnøysund to Støtt

Sunday 20th in Brønnøysund was an “Indoor” day, wind and rain, which gradually cleared up on monday such that by late afternoon, we set off for Vega, in a light SW wind which needed help from the engine. Tied up to the rather strange pontoon, (think it used to be part of a salmon farm), to which one must step up, and not down. Friend Britt was at home, together with her brother Johan and a grandchild. I had unfortunately forgotten to insert my hearing aids, and as the years go by, it gets more difficult to understand Johan, his dialect is very local, but a convivial evening with coffee and “lefse”, (sort of pancake). It transpired that Britt was leaving the next day to stay with daughter in Brønnøysund, so plans for a longer stay went aglay.

Next morning was beautifully sunny and as it was the day they opened the cafe and museum for the summer, the famous waffles and coffee had to be sampled. I also “helped” Johan with his collections of engines, one of which was encouraged to start and run with suitable chuffing noises:

Here should have appeared a video, with sound, but it would not happen, bother, sorry.

So, with company away, we travelled on in late afternoon, to Hjartøy (66 0.5 / 012 24.8), a perfect anchorage. Took two pictures of the Seven Sisters, one in the evening and one the next morning:

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Interesting cloud formations on each top. Next morning, warning cirrus clouds.

After a very quiet night, only disturbed by the (penetrating) cries of oystercatchers, we puttered in to Sandnessjøen, for supplies, a new cupholder, whoopee, and a slice of fresh halibut from the fish shop almost on the quayside. The promised front was on its way, but the wind was blowing from suitable southwest, so I didn’t dawdle, and off we went in perfect genakker weather, but alas, no gennaker, so genoa had to suffice. We made very good progress until late afternoon when the wind gradually subsided, the clouds lowered and it got much colder. My ambitious goal of Rødøya, (66 39.9 / 013 13.3), where there is an excellent restaurant and an anticipated treat, was just an hour too far, I was getting cold in spite of the many layers, and when the Polar Circle was passed:

We tied up in the familar harbour at Selsøyvik, (63 34.5 / 012 58.8), in the arriving drizzle, with only two other boats. Their crew sat on the visitors bench group beside a smoking barbeque, trying to celebrate Midsummers Eve. Normally this is celebrated with bonfire and jollity and special food, but the conditions not being at all encouraging, everyone retired soon to the warmth of their cabins. An inclement evening, mitigated for me by a succulent steak of halibut and plenty chips.

The weather got better during the night, and a SSW breeze blew nicely. It was still un-summerly chilly however and I put on even more layers to tame the temperature. We passed the famous Lion of Rødøy, (not the most advantageous viewpoint, as navigating took priority over picture taking), and got into the sailing groove.

The wind was affected by tall islands, changing direction and strength, so we had to gybe quite often, but the wind remained strong enough all the way to Støtt, (66 55.5 / 013 26.1), also familiar, where there is another good restaurant, which I am now about to visit.

Alls well

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According to the monument, half of Norway is north of Brønnøysund and half is south. (The English text is on the little brass plaque.) An interesting fact, of much use to those who need to know, and maybe more of encouragement to those who are on their way, either way. We, Josin and I, are not concerned, we are happy with both our position and our progress.

Yesterday, sunday, was a day of rest and restitution. Appreciated the sunshine and warmth. Chance to do some maintenance and fixing. During the genakker geffuffle, something, probably my elbow or other part of my stressed body, over-loaded the cup-holder on the bulkhead, see pic, and repair has not succeeded. Major disaster. A beaker of coffee, or even tea, will not stand upright without support when sailing in wave’y seas. No cup-holder shop here in this half-way town. Maybe Sandnessjøen will provide.

Other evidence of the genakker geffuffle: The baugsprit. 72 mm diameter aluminium tube, bent like a drinking straw.

There must have been a considerable force from the wind in the sail to achieve this bending. Impossible to straighten out, so new one ordered.

Monday morning and lightly raining. Forecast to stop at midday, accompanied by a sailable, gentle, SW breeze. If so. we will wander north to Vega, where I have friends, and will probably celebrate Midsummer’s Eve (23rd) there too.

Alls well.

To Rørvik and beyond.

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Reassuring to have the Rescue Service at hand. A dream boat, Dragonfly trimaran.

Forecast for the 15th was not good, too much wind and probable rain, so we stayed put for the day. Forecast for the 16th was promising so early to bed and set the alarm for 05:00. Woke before of course but never mind. Away at 06:10, overcast and cold, (7 degrees), so with wool first and 5 more layers, (I was not going to get cold today!), and a delightful sailing wind. It lasted for four hours. Then Josin needed motor assist, then more, then all motor after another hour, coinciding with the sun appearing. Warming. We had made such good progress that I decided to go for Rørvik in the sunshine and over calm waters, arriving just before six. 63 nautical miles. Listened and was entertained and amused along the way by P.G. Woodhouse in the ear. Evening meal at the “64 degrees North” restaurant, very good fish soup, just across the harbour.

Rørvik (64 51.65 / 011 13.75) is a busy town, home to thousands of Kittiwakes, (vociferous!), nesting on any available ledge, and a recently built church dominating on the hill. Unusual building to say the least, several square blocks, looking like they were of scaffolding covered by white tarpaulins. No, the tarps are glass. Well, different. Topped by a quadripod, seemingly copied from the goverment building in Canberra, Oz. Must have caused a good deal of discussion when first built.

17th another pause day, blustery winds and rain, so some shopping was in order, provisioning amonst other things. Forecast for the 18th, today, was most promising, with good sailing winds in the right direction, but not until mid day. So the genakker sail was rigged, (see top pic), and sandwiches made and thermoses filled.

Yes, we sailed, on main and genua, until we got into open water, intending to roll out the genakker. But before I got that far, the wind very suddenly gusted to over 30 knots, from it’s 10 to 12, and the genakker half-unrolled itself, (never done that before, and I cannot see how, but,) with a loud bang and started thrashing and flapping. Interesting. Umm. Now what? Normal control ropes no use. So. Only solution was to lower the sail gradually into the water. Excellent brake! Manoevered with the mainsail to reduce speed to a sort of sideways chassay, enabling the sail to be hauled on board. That sail is big, and as it was all wet, the operation was a bit strenuous and gradual, until success. Very busy for a while there, but no worries. Unfortunately the sail must have snagged on something which caused the leech to tear, sufficiently to be a sailmakers repair job. Bother! Sailed on, but decided to shorten the day, to a Plan B harbour, Skei, on Leka, (65 05.34 / 011 44.46). Here the wind is gradually subsiding, between rainshowers, and is forecast to be even lighter tomorrow. Probably an early start to get to Brønnøysund in time to get the sail off in the post.

Another experience richer, and a bit more sailing-wiser, but confident that I’m still capable. Lovely reassuring thought.

Alls well

Sailor JosinJohn

From Brekstad to Dypfest to Stokkøya.

Sunday dawned, (well, a little later) promising, with forcast westerly wind, overcast, but no rain, later in the day. 14:30 we set off, motoring until we “turned the corner of Øland”, then up sails and woosh. Wonderful. Combined with very turbulent water and a 2 kt current in our direction, the countryside dissappeared rapidly astern. It was only 16 nm to Dypfest, (63 46.90 / 009 34.64), but the wind gradually died to inadequate. Nice sailing while it lasted! Welcomed by Stefan, a local, who turned out to be a skipper on one of these flotilla sailing boats, cuising northern waters. Intruiging, enticing, but a bit out of my comfort zone!

Rain during the night which gradually ceased, revealing an overcast and low sky, and forecast promise clear-up. Allowed a dry-ish departure late morning with clearer skies on the western horizon. We sailed, gently. Why hurry? With the clearance at about 14:00, came a sudden, undesirable and significant drop in temperature, maybe 5 degrees, not forecast, but a desirable increase in the wind to a perfect 15 knots. Smile on the face of the skipper! But. There is usually a but. Again I had dressed for the pre-drop in temp, and as sudden short, sharp showers came and went, I decided that a shorter plan B sail to Stokkøya (64 02.86 / 009 56.54), than the original goal was in order, before a real chill set in. Plenty plass in the marina, we the only guest. Heater on, change of clothes and a zizz.

Josin’s lonely mast just visible against the right hand end of the distant bridge, (16 m clearance, the way out, OK). Pic taken late evening, before yet another weather-change. Came during the night with stronger near-gale winds and deluge-showers. Of course I was wakened by the halyards banging insistantly on the mast, so had to don waterproofs and creep and cringe out into the near-dark and stop the noise. The joys of boating!

Today brought brighter skies, but just as much wind and showers, so we stay here until tomorrow.

Spike Milligan said it: “The sky must have holes for the rain to come in, but the holes must be small, ‘cos the rain is so thin”. Josin has holes, very few now fortunately, and not in dry-critical places, but drips appear in such weather and have to be mopped up. Yet another joy of boating!

All is otherwise well.

It is proven. I may continue to sail. I can still hoist the mainsail! A lovely breeze on the way down the Trondheimsfjord, gave us 4 gentle boat knots and delightful quiet. Lasted all of two hours.
This season I had reckoned that, because last year was somewhat un-clement, statistically the weather this year would be better. It has been. Days of sunshine, but no sailing wind. Therefore days of motoring and not enough suncream. Ah well, you can’t have it all!

Again, Gilbert found a webcam and caught our entering the guest harbour at Skansen. (The one where you don’t have to wait for a bridge to open).
Strange things happen in the early morning. An incredible gull(hoard?, gathering?), all squawking at maks, appeared to be attacking something moving along on the long sea wall. Closer they came, and underneath appeared a poor otter, (or was it a badger, maybe a jumbo mink), bounding along for all it was worth, trying to avoid the gulls, until it suddenly disappeared in amongst the stones and the gulls were frustrated, and gradually dispersed. No more sleep!
Later that morning I helped another boat tie up, and look what was sitting pretty on the jetty:

Visit to Trondheim was greatly enhanced by meeting up with grandson John Magnus and his partner Mariell, for dinner in the San Sebastian restaurant. Great company! Good Spanish-spicy food. Quiet until 18:00 when the local, Covid-inspired, restriction on alcohol serving ended, and the decibel level rose inexorably. We moved to a quieter corner.

Next day, (I’ve rather lost count), another early awakening and start, and back out the Trondheimsfjord to Brekstad. Well I never! After a bit, a gentle wind appeared, in an appropriate direction, and we sailed awhile. Then a change. Entering the west-east Trondheimsleia, the wind suddenly changed to NW and blew at 25 knots. ! Creamed along and arrived at Brekstad just as both the normal, and the high-speed ferry, exited the harbour, heading to one on each side of us. Dowse all sail and STOP. Let them assume we are “a hindrance to sea room”. Don’t move until they have gone. Just afterwash, particularly from the high-speed. Phew! Plenty of space to tie up on the guest pontoon, together with no less than three largish sailboats all on their way north.

This morning, saturday, dawned blustery with heavy rain showers and rather too much wind, and as I’m not keen to get wet and the forecast is for a clearing, we remain here for a while. Next stop, round the corner to Dypfest: (I am still trying to find out how to add a link to a position in Google Earth).

Alls well