Had hoped to have a pretty pic of Josin at the top of my blogs, as standard, but haven’t achieved it yet. Text and a number will have to do.
Should have been a pic here, of the surroundings, but all is grey and lost in the fog. No point.
it’s raining. The very thin sort. Cloud down. No point in getting wet, so her we are, anchored in the bay at Storfosen, (xxx), waiting for clearance. Forecast is slightly promising, for a sailing wind that is, but I’ll wait and see.
I have in recent times answered that I will carry on sailing until I cannot hoist the main sail. (You did ask). Well, so far it has remained tidily wrapped on the boom, and if wind doesn’t happen soon, I’m worried that my criterion will not get tested.
Later today, we will (hopefully) sail into Trondheim, and (hopefully) meet up with John Magnus and Mariell for a meal and a catch-up. They have just finished exams for the term, so will be in a more relaxed mood.
Josin spent the winter on land at Mauseid Bil og Båt, near Ålesund, and was looked after by Harald, also to re-tie down recalcitrant tarpaulins which escaped at the edges in the winter gales.
I made several trips from Kongsberg to carry out the spring maintenance and make a few changes. It is nearly 600 km, rather too long for one day, so I stayed the night about half way at Toftemo Tourist Station, just south of Dombås. Traditional country-style, comfortable and homely. What was planned to have been a next-to-last trip in late April, wasn’t, because of the weather:
All was well inside however, and with the help of Josin’s heater and a borrowed fan heater, the temperature rose to liveable levels. The final trip in the middle of May was with the car loaded with sails and inflatable dingy and bedding and cushions and other household clobber and essential un-obtainables, like Marmite, (thankyou Gilbert), and Marmelade, (thankyou Kari). Fortunately my car is a voluminous, squarish one, but it was full to the brim. Back home again to close the house for the summer and return by: kindneighbour (thankyou Gunnar), train, train, bus, bus, and walk. (Bag was very heavy with last-minute things). Next morning, Monday, the last day in May, Harald finally turned up to polish the hull, and on the afternoon tide, Josin finally got water-borne, rather later than planned, but never mind. She floated, no leaks, Ha!
Gloom set in when it became apparent that the engine’s sea water pump was leaking at the shaft. Not much, but worrying. Volvo Penta’s workshop could assure me that they didn’t possibly have the capacity or the necessary spares to do anything before in several week’s time (this is our busyest time you see). Of course. Subsequent monitoring of the leak revealed that it reduced to a manageable drip. Onward! Moored for the night in the center of Ålesund to stock up with fuel and food, and woke next morning to glorious sunshine and a nice breeze. Promising! Auspicious!. So, at 09:30, on 2nd June, we set off on this year’s cruise, goal: The North.
Josin departs Ålesund, in sunsine and flat calm
Josin about to leave Ålesund, (pic captured from a webcam, by Gilbert). Even the locals were bubbling about the weather. Turned out of course that the breeze out at sea was not that in the harbour. North, and we were heading NNE. Fickle. We had the genoa out for about an hour total, but the engine was on all the way, to Sandøy, (62 49.3 / 006 34.4). Glorious evening.
Next day the weather was about the same, but chillier, and although the sun warmed, I hadn’t put enough clothes on and got gradually colder. First sailor-mistake of the season! A lunch-stop was in order, at Askvaagen, (62 58.0 / 007 02.3), to re-clothe, eat, and have a snooze. Onward to Kristiansund, (63 07.1 / 007 44.0), all the way on engine. Boring, but lightened by an audio book in the earphones.
Today, a Friday, the square in Kristiandsund is filled with stalls selling new-baked bread, farmhouse cheese and cold meats. Samples. Yum! Purchases. Enough for days now! Still magnificently sunny, with a northerly breeze, and the forecast for tomorrow is about the same, so the rest of the day I’ll relax, and read, and snooze.
The last sail of the season from Urke to Mauseidvågen turned interesting. The forecast was for a southerly wind, but it was incorrect, again! A gentle northerly came in and we and two other sailing boats enjoyed a close hauled, tacking sail, all the way up the Hjørungfjord.
Just had to show the track of some competitive sailing. We came second, just. Third place boat gave up.
Then motor into and through Vegsund to Mauseidvågen and the end of the journey.
Mauseidvåg
Surrounded by hills, the place is only open to the fjord to the north with islands and more hills behind. Well protected therefore.
Had to travel home to Kongsberg to fetch the boat cradle and all the other necessary kit for winterising. Originally planned to be by bus/bus/train/train/train. (Done it before). But the operating of trains here in Norway is being privatised, and as that train/train/train sequence was now under three different companies, planning was nearly impossible. But, so popped up a solution by the old national NSB, (Norges Statsbaner), who in the interim had changed its name to “Vy” (norwegian “view” or “vision”. Odd!), of an overnight coach service to Oslo, starting from just up the road at Moa. Reckon that they felt miffed at losing the trains, and started a competitive bus service. I ordered. Local bus to Moa terminal, enter the lower deck of a sumptuous coach, depart at 22:20 and subside into intermittent slumber. Halv an hours pause half way, and rolled into Oslo Buss Terminal at 06:25. Painless. To be recommended.
A slightly frightening half-awakening at dawn, saw the countryside rushing past at (at least) 110 km/hr. I had got very used to 5 knots, or 10 km/hr for three months, and that was a bit of a shock. On with the eyeshade again until the bus station.
Then back with a fully-loaded car and cradle on the roof, the long pipes with flappy plastic bags sticking out both ends. On recommended main roads, easy navigating and no stress, several pauses. Spent the next day assembling and levelling up the cradle, on rather uneven, stony ground, and woke next morning to a drizzly D-day, all ready for action. Harald started his beast and lifted Josin like she was a toy. Left her hanging for a pressure wash, with astonishingly little growth, only a bit of stringy weed at the waterline, and then safely lowered on to the cradle and secured. Harald on the left, me in what the locals call their national costume. Yes, it is necessary. It rains a lot up here. And yes, I kept quite dry thank you.
Then a few days of carrying out winterising tasks, loading up the car again, this time with (almost) everything that needed to come home, erecting the awning support and draping and tying down the awning. Not quite finished, as the sheets I had were the wrong size or too tatty and new ones were partially sold out. It was slightly odd moving about the now quite stationary boat. It didn’t react to my weight movements, and I felt almost wobbly! Land legs already.
Josin white-awning-covered. Need to take one more trip, to complete the awning, and to drain all water and all the other little tasks which will take time, but not much effort.
For the journey home again I chose the scenic route. Unfortunately there was much rain and cloud down over the mountains, but the sun broke through just as we descended into Geiranger, the most spectacular place of the whole trip. You can’t have it all.
88 days, 1673 nautical miles, to Tromsø and back. A leisurely summer, largely due to the (cheating) start this year. Plenty of time, null distance-stress. Plenty of non-summer weather, but august has been much better, and will hopefully form the lasting memory.
So, the last miles, from Sandøy to Finnøy to Ålesund. A very short motor to Finnøy, (63 48.1 , 6 30.4), in calm, grey, drizzly weather over a multi-marked calm sea. Careful navigation necessary.
Only one other boat at the guest pontoon. A splendid new building housing the local boating club and its facilities, and in the one end, in a glassed-in room, was a clenodium.
A two-cylinder 250 horsepower marine engine, from 1935, the best preserved of over 650 engines built by “Finnøy Lars” and his factory, here on Finnøy, from 1905 to 1975. This poor motorman just had to stare through the glass and admire. Just to give you an idea of size, each barrel is about the same diameter as a forty-gallon oil drum. Whoomf, whoomf. The placard said it had logged over 100 000 hours. Now there’s reliability for you.
Forecast for friday was for a gradually-increasing north-westerly wind, so we stared early to avoid the blow. Overcast again, and almost drizzling, we motored until the wind came in, from a tantalising fine angle. Sails up, which helped a little. On the way the route goes through Lausund, (62 35.5 , 6 15.3), a narrow channel through shallows, where a new bridge is being built, between stone-filled-in-between-islands.
Pillars almost ready, each one with its long-armed mobile crane. Wonder how they got them there? Lift to the top is via mobile crane!
Our course and the wind angle became friendlier and we sailed most of the rest of the way to Ålesund. On approaching the harbour entrance, from a rather, with hindsight, too-fine angle, Josin was called up on the VHF by Gabrielle, (or something like it). Oops! Whatthe…. Dive for the VHFmike. “Josin answering”. “Can you let us to exit the harbour before you enter?” “Affirmative”. So full speed and a 180 degree turn, and a high-speed ferry emerged from behind the large building on the end of the harbour wall. Hadn’t seen him move on AIS, thought he was stationary, and I was all busy thinking about ropes and fenders and which side and where. Bad. Lesson: Approach harbour with better sight into the entrance, cos its also the exit.
A badly-slept night on one of the guest pontoons, much pitching from the rollers coming straight in, whipped up by the NW wind. Decided to leave, and as it was a day before we were due at Mauseidvågen, where Josin will stay the winter, we’d take a sight-seeing trip in Hjørungfjord. Very impressive. Enormous mountains plunging straight down into the water, and very few places for habitation. If you squint hard you maybe can see a large, square, looks-like-a-notice at the top of the strange cliff in the middle pic. Warning to climbers approaching from the other side of the sudden drop maybe?. Saw another later, in the middle of a steep slope. Odd. Maybe an antenne. I liked the formation of the cliffside in the last pic. Could have been from the local monster sharpening his claws.
The guest pontoon at Urke, (62 12.5 , 6 33.9) near the bottom end of the fjord, was over-popular and very over-full, both two-and three-abreast. Fantastic evening, smoky grilling very popular, singing too. No place for us though, so we found a very small pontoon outside a salmon smolt factory, quite weekend-shut and deserted, and enjoyed a quiet night.
Today, calm, the morning overcast trying to rise up the mountainsides, and the first motorboat armada on their way home ploughing up the mirror-like fjord. We’ll have to potter off soon, to Mauseidvågen, (62 25.4 , 6 16.6). Had hoped for a forecast southerly breeze to help us on our way, but it hasn’t appeared yet.
An amusing incident: Hopsjø is in a long, narrow passage between islands, and large notices, “Maks 5 Knop” at the beginning and at the end. Now Josin does about 5,5 knots at fast cruise, so the speed limit isn’t a problem for me, but others….. In a particularly narrow part, I suddenly realised that there was not just one boat following me, but several, all in disorderly “line astern”. Obviously champing at the bit, as their normal speed of “5 knots” is at least the double. The channel opened into a bay, and they roared past, large-lettered outboards at full chat, 50 HP, 150HP, 100HP, 300 HP, in a competition to see who could reach the final “Maks 5 Knop” sign first. Left behind troubled waters. But interesting though, as the first one behind me was disciplined, and the rest obviously didn’t dare!
Managed some sailing to K’sund, (63 7.1 , 7 44.0) but mostly motoring over a calm-ish sea. K’sund guest harbour was almost full of the inevitable motor cruisers, but there was a just Josin-sized space between a Danish and a German sailboat. Multilingual help to tie up, with warnings, in the limited space.
Leaving K’sund on a bright sunny day I saw this: Ancient and Modern. Tall Ship, tall Bridge. Meter to spare.
The Tall Ship “Ideal” motored surprisingly slowly. It took ages before it disappeared over Hustavika, inside the skerries, on its way to Bud. We stayed outside, as the sea was benign and the wind pushed us along at a comfortable and relaxing speed under genakker. We didn’t stop at Bud, as the day was yet youngish and the sailing breeze stil blew, we carried on to Tornes, (62 50.2 , 7 2.5), slightly off track, but usually quiet, this time too. Very popular caravan site,
A calm. dull, grey day invited to a laundry session. Washing machine took 3 hours and 40 minutes, the drier took 1 hour and 20 minutes, only one machine at a time and two loads. Took all day. Dug out the bicycle in the interim and pedalled up, yes, pedalled up the hill, to the shop to replenish essentials. Wheeee-speed home again.
Leaving Tornes in a cloudless, sunny day, we passed Nyhamn, where most of the North Sea gas comes in in enormous pipes, gets treated, and then exported. Millions in value every hour. Most impressive operation.
We were lucky with the wind and seas, and sailed most of the relatively short distance to Sandøy. (62 49.3 , 6 34.6). Small harbour tucked away from sight, but very snug. Two tieup spots.
On the way there, a most unusual sight. Gannets. They are always an intriguing sight, fishing with their special technique: Flying slowly at about 25 meters above the sea, the diving like a bomb with trailing wings, sometimes coming up again with fish in pointed beak. This time though, a gaggle(?) of them, about 20 or so, resting on the water farily close together. When we approached, they struggled aloft, not much wind to help. Never seen them on the water before. Wonder where the colony is?
Sandøy is one of the many communities, based before on fishing and farming, but now more on recreational use. Many houses now holiday homes, this one being freshened up by a nearly-retiree. Old boats never die, they just get used for something else.
Sandøy has an unusual church: Octagonal, log construction, from early 1800. Unfortunately shut, but a peep in through a window revealed an intimate arrangement. A sad reminder in the churchyard: A three-sided stone monument over all those from the community who had lost their lives at sea. Many. many names:
After the first lightning and thunder of the summer last night, it is still raining a bit, so it will be a very late start, only to the next-but-one island, Finnøy. There apparently, from my informant up the ladder, the very first engine for a fishing boat was constructed and installed. Sounds inticing for this old motor-man. This I was told, was the initial spark of engineering activity which has grown enormously and spread in the surrounding area.
Another coffee while we wait for the rain to cease. Alls well.
To quote my favourite satirical poet, Spike Milligan, “The sky must have holes for the rain to come in, but the holes must be small, ´cos the rain is so thin”.
This morning’s rain is a bit thicker. Individual drops big enough to create the pillar and ring pattern. Wet though. There are sufficient of them that even the local heron, standing sentinel in the shallows, gave up. I had another snooze and a late breakfast.
Hopsjø is a place of history. One of the largest trading and fishing centres in the area from the mid 1700s, through 1800s and into the 1900s. The buildings are well preserved, with an “everyday-things-from-the-past” museum, and well used in the summer months, including a very good restaurant. Lots of cabin cruisers arrived in the late afternoon and enjoyed the restaurant and terrace in the sunshine.
Getting here was interesting. First an over-optimistic attempt to genakker-sail, which due to the only very weak breeze, caused more sail-and-ropes poggles than usual and resulted in lack of success and pride.
Then there was the Coastal Watch, (Kystvakten), in action to service a lighthouse. The ship just nuzzled in to the rock and kept the engine going to hold it there, while men went ashore, (one up on the lantern tower, one going there). Glassy sea, just the right conditions.
Next an approaching workboat with a barge under tow. These workboats are special to Norway I believe, due to the regulations governing ship construction. They are 14,99 meters long, (rules split at 15 meters) and almost as wide, on a catarmaran hull. Ugly but effective. Relative speeds indicated that the entourage would catch me up just as we were getting to a very narrow space, so just before we got there I held out my left arm demonstratively and ducked into a convenient small bay. Demonstrative waving of thanks from the captain, head out of bridge window, and crew, on side deck. Followed them at a safe distance, until the barge was delivered to a shipyard. Surprising to find such a comprehensive activity out here amongst the islands. Barge unfortunately just out of the picture.
As you can see from the picture, the sun now shone from a cloudless sky and I enjoyed the rest of the motoring day against wind and current getting sunburned again. That was the second day this summer!
Enjoyed a very good dinner of succulent steak of red deer, (hjort), but disappointing veg, and a delicious but anonymous creamy desert.
Today was forecast to be both rainy and wind-against, so I had planned on staying here until tomorrow. But it has stopped raining and the wind isn’t blowing so I need to make a decision. Coffee first.
Some like to plot our position in electronic maps, like Google Earth.
It rained in Trondheim, gently and steadily, so I took it very easy until after lunch, and took the tram into the city. Two boat-things shops later I still hadn’t obtained a new bilge pump, but sundry other things instead, including a magic potion, at a teeth-sucking price, to kill any diesel bugs in Josin’s fuel tank. There is a lot of it about recently, apparently partially due to the addition of bio elements in the fuel. After the filter hiatus earlier, I want to be protected.
Had an enjoyable visit in the evening from grandson John Magnus and his partner Mariell. JM is about 1,9 m tall, but he had to test the bunk in the the forecsle for size, just in case they come aboard for a few days some day. Maybe next summer. We met again the next evening for a meal at the Graffi Grill and Bar, and wisely ordered for two, with three plates. Absolutely enough. and very good. Pic taken before eating.
Next day dawned flat calm with blue-sky sunshine, and a promising wind forecast. By the time I had got organised, (had to “dash” up the hill to buy forgotten breakfast yoghurt), the seas were showing signs of activity, and, sure enough, that which caused a gentle bobbing motion inside the harbour developed into something much more aggressive, 1 to 1,5 meter waves outside, which, including their reflections from the steep shore, made for a extremely bumpy ride the first half hour. Where those waves came from, north east, with wind from south, remains a mystery. And there was current, which amazingly, almost all day, was from behind. Progress was good but intermittent, with hoisting and un-rolling sails, sailing a while, lowering and in-rolling, motoring a while, repeated to frustration. The best part was after the Trondheim Fjord in the west-going Trondheim’s Leie, where the genakker drew us along at a steady satisfactory speed, and almost into the narrow entrance to the bay at Storfosna.
Today started very grey and calm, with light drizzle, so we remained where we were for the rest of the day. Took the opportunity to inspect the propeller, not by diving, but by taking a video with a GoPro camera on the end of an extended boathook. It took me almost all morning to get it and communication to work, (instruction book at home, but internet helped), and was finally able to confirm that all seemed to be in order.
Intended here was an under-water picture, but I only managed a video, much too long, and I haven’t found out how to clip one pic from a video. Maybe read some more and try again later.
Still grey and calm. We stay til tomorrow, when sunshine is promised. Fingers crossed.
Woke to overcast and drizzle, so dallied and read a chapter or two before leaving Sjøvik, on Leka. No wind to speak of so more use of diesel. Nearing Rørvik we met the tidal current, going north and against of course. The narrower the fairway, the stronger the current, and when it increased to well over two knots, I took action and sought the shallows, where it wasn’t so strong. Our track is revealing: Followed mostly the 5 meter depth contour on the wonderful electronic chart. No surprises luckily.
Rørvik was wet, drizzly and foggy, so we stayed a day, did some shopping, read some more, and tried to get the bilge pump to work. Dismantling revealed sufficient crud and corrosion that the flap-valves didn’t seat properly, therefore no suck and blow. A good cleanup restored some functionality. Really need a new one. But the boat-things shop has moved to the other side of the island, several Km away, not promising for a bicycle ride in this weather, and the friendly voice on the phone couldn’t help.
Left Rørvik early, the forecast was for winds against, increasing later. Check, but we got to Villa, motoring, before that happened. Villa is where the very first lighthouse was built in Norway, 1839, coal fired, and I’d hoped to make it a visit. But it wasn’t on the top of the hill next to the harbour, but a good long way away. Having negotiated the rather uneven “path” thither for a few hundred meters, and a conference with my knees, we decided to return to boat. Mission unaccomplished. Pottered about instead. The harbour is one of the least-inviting I have seen, but the visitors pontoon is luckily more friendly. Harbour building perched on the steep side of a very narrow channel. Nice view though.
The ravages of time create art. Who would have guessed that the blacksmith’s hammering which forged this utilitarian maritime necessity would turn out so artistic? And nature finds a way amongst the cast-offs.
Left Villa with the promise of a day of calmish winds and sunshine, and it happened! Initial motoring, but after a while the clouds dissolved and the breeze blew gently and we genakker-sailed for most of the rest of the day, and got sunburned shoulders. Goals, and alternative goals for the day, disappeared aft one by one. Why stop? Incredible. Finally stopped i Djupfest, (known), in late evening, weary but content.
Next morning was strange. Absolutely calm and silent, due to very low cloud, almost fog. Even the gulls remained quiet. However, we set off in the forecast hope of improvement. It was eerie. Cloudbase was very variable, apparently just over mast-height occasionally, and visibility about a mile. A landmark (or should that be seamark?), lighthouse came and went, clear on approach, foggy on departure: Weird!
Then an intermittent but gradual clearing, and some sailing wind, mainly aft, which carried us fitfully towards Trondheim. Wind direction was not constant, and after getting into and out of, a chinese gybe, learned how not to do it. (Chinese gybe is when the sail is an hour-glass , with the top of the sail filled one way and the bottom is filled the opposite way). Tricky, preferably needing rather more than one pair of hands to unravel! Arrived in Trondheim just before the weather clamped down and rained again.
Grey, wet and drizzly today. Take it easy. Alls snug and well.
Again a late-ish start, waiting on the weather, which cleared up at lunchtime and left a good easterly wind. I decided to leave just before the ferry did the same, quite unplanned, but interesting, as he followed us out of the harbour, towering above Josin. As soon as there was searoom I changed course 20 degrees to starboard and held out my right arm. Was rewarded with a very short and friendly toot before he churned away, leaving us bobbing.
So, wind on the port quarter, fairly strong at 15 – 20 kts. Unroll genua, sheet in, stop engine and enjoy good speed. And rolling. Wind had managed to whip up waves. Coffee had to wait. Managed to sail round the west side of Leka, almost all the way to a little, tucked away bay sheltered from the wind, which we had visited many years go, Sjøvik. (65 04.6 / 011 22.2). On the way there were sights of rock of many colours and shapes: Leka is renowned.
Last time we were here, we were invited ashore by a welcoming lady and her daughter in one of the cottages, bearing just-caught fish, and astonishingly took us for a round-the-island sightseeing tour:
Took lots of pictures on that trip and promised to send copies of some of them when I got back home. Alas, the address had disappeared, and I’d forgotten the name.
There was no one around when we arrived and tied up to a handy pontoon, so I walked to the cottage in the middle, where a couple were enjoying the sunshine and a sundowner. They assured me that it would be quite alright to stay there. Chatting historically revealed that they were the next generation of cottage owners, and that the one next door, which was the one with which I had had contact previously, was also now owned by the next generation, and I was given a name, the daughter, who lived now on the south coast, maybe Grimstad. Must research this when I get home, and maybe at last deliver the pictures, twenty years late. (Hope I can find them!).
Sjøvik is now the base for a fish-farming operation, and one of their vessels, a very functional work-catamaran, was tied up, and all sorts of new equipment was “stored”, also on the pontoon. Immensely strong stuff this. Shoe for comparison:
In late evening the other vessel returned and tied up alongside the first. I asked if it was OK that we stayed where we were and was told No Worries in the local dialect, with the offer of freshly-caught fish. Yes please! Guy came with a plastic bag of fillets of saith, which half-filled my bucket. “Need that much”, and a friendly good night. So I will be eating fish for dinner for a while. Amazing!
Next stop Rørvik, when the weather clears a bit. Alls well.
After a thursday of rain and wind, continuing into friday morning, a gradual clearance permitted an afternoon’s engine-running to Vegstein on Vega. Met by good friend Britt on the pontoon, at the end of which was one of these large, inflatable arches, purple in colour, marking a kayakking event the next day. (Thought it was a bit much just for me!).
Disturbed from my slumbers next morning by much activity on the pontoon, which culminated in flag waving and horn blowing to send off three female kayakkers who were going to paddle all the way round the island. No time for another zizz before the procedure was repeated to send three male kayakkers off on their round-the-island paddle. Not the best of weather, it being overcast and almost drizzling. Dedicated these paddlers, expected time, between six and seven hours. There was to be much kayak activity during the day, but I didn’t see it, being elsewhere.
Elsewhere being primarily a visit to the World Heritage Center. A very functional wooden building housing exhibits, film, walls and placards of photographs and text of the history of Vega. Very well presented and comprehensive. Felt quite replete. Later a visit to one of the more prosperous farms on Vega, this one primarily for pigs, and the produce therefrom, including several sorts of cured sausage. I bought the one with seaweed seasoning, after a visit to the cafe and consumption of the speciality carrot cake with a coffee.
Next morning dawned much better. The sun shone and the breeze wafted gently. Forecast was for a strong change in wind strength and direction in the late afternoon so I left at lunchtime, after having met Britt’s daughter and family who arrived for a visit in a rapid aluminium whizzer.
We sailed half of the way to Brønnøysund, until we met the change, much earlier than expected, after which it was splash and bash into the wind and waves. Brønnøysund proudly boasts that it is halfway in Norway: And has some interesting “maritime”sculptures here and there.
Next day it was still blowing hard the wrong way until late afternoon, the wind suddenly dying, so we set off south again. Past the famous Trollhatten mountain, (looks like a hat from afar), with it’s enormous hole right through it. Took these pictures to show the shape, but our course did not go where the hole was visible. (It is roughly in the middle).
Motored all the way to Vennesund, stretching the day. Got in at 20:50. Small harbour with a monstrous barge in the middle. Maybe for dredging and/or piling. The ferry occupied most of the rest of space. Quick dinner, then bed.
Josin's 2026 blog 