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Yesterday was a fantastic sun-and-warmth day. Lots of relaxed people about, lightly clothed, stroller-pushing, wandering gently to the other end of the pier and back, pavement restaurants and cafés doing a great trade.

Me? I went for a fender-hunt. Yesterday’s post about disasters wasn’t quite complete. It started earlier! I was almost too embarrassed to admit to leaving the taking-in of fenders until we were well out in the wind-against-current choppy waves, (my feeble excuse is that I was trying to keep out of the way of the high-speed ferry and the normal ferry at the same time), and when I finally went forward, there the fender wasn’t.

But first the good news. Priority after breakfast was the cabin heater. Gained access by emptying the port cockpit locker, where it is in-accessibly placed (for a many-year-old with two artificial knees) up under the gunwhale. Thinks. Do I really need to dismantle the thing? Could at least try one start, couldn’t I? with my ear placed as close as possible to analyse any strange noises. Press start button. Hasten to uncomfortable listening position. Wait. Normal noises only. Still only normal noises. Up to full speed and still only normal noises. Hurra! Let it run for a while, then stop. Waited half an hour. Press start. Only normal noises again. Hurra again! I cease to speculate upon what had caused the original problem, and optimistically conclude that it has gone away and won’t happen again.

Fender hunt: There are several boat-things places here in Bodø, one south of the harbour, fairly close, and the others north. I started south, walking, with sticks for better speed and endurance. “Fenders? Yes sir, over here on the wall, our large selection, which one would suit your need?”. Except, of course, not the size I have standardised on. Bad luck. Change direction to north. Walk, with sticks. Retrace steps. Onward, through the shopping center, past and then into, an aromatic bakery with five (!) different sorts of sourdough bread. Bought the brownest. Onward, past the somnolent railway station, and the even more silent Hurtigruten (coastal steamer) quay. Then at last, at least several Km later, or so it seemed in the bright sunshine, arrived at an anonymous building with several camper vans outside. Well the building’s name did also include the word “boat”, so this must be it. One elderly gent, specs perched on the end of his adequate nose, half asleep behind the desk and his computer screen. Immediate attention at the sound of the door bing-bong. Fenders? Shelves of them, in a small department for boating things. Camper vans do not need fenders, do they? Found what measured to be approximately the right size, but in deflated shape. “Just a minute Sir, I’ll start the compressor”. Due to the air nozzle being a poor fit, most of the air escaped with intense whistles and squeaks, but in the end, “There we are Sir, right size? This what you are looking for?” Perfect thankyou! Wave plastic. Er, du you have a piece of string? I had foreseen that walking with sticks would make carrying a substantial fender difficult, so I had taken my backpack along. Small backpack, large fender. Several pieces of string and secure knots later, thankyou to a most helpful storekeeper, I returned to the town, gathering amused glances, along the several Km.

Past that bakery again. Ah! I surely deserved a coffee and a sticky bun. Most enjoyable. Then back through the shopping center, more amused glances, to the boat. Subsided into welcoming Josin’s cockpit, undid and cut string, and hung up new fender in old position. Re-load everything back into locker. Mission accomplished! Relax for most of the rest of the day.

But today is the stark contrast from yesterday. Rain, the very wet sort, low cloud, little wind, 11 degrees. An indoor day. After breakfast, with extra coffee, write blog. Sorry, no pictures.

Tomorrow, VHF doctor.

Alls as well as can be expected.

Not much to tell. Some motoring, some sailing, under very variable conditions. Wind mainly from an easterly direction, but with all these mountains in the way, what reached us was not what was forecast, but only to be expected. Forecasters cannot possibly predict for very local conditions.

One entertainment was paralleling a fishing boat on its way home, fisherman busy gutting fish and throwing the result overboard. Gulls, squawking, competing, hundreds of them. Long line aft of overgorged gulls, unwilling to fly, or just given up.

Bodø harbour very full. Found a just-Josin-sized spot right in under the harbour wall, next to the gangway, which creaks and groans with every disturbance. Earplugs good.

But…. How long is a day? In my previous missives I have occasionally had a “disaster of the day” feature. I hereby resurrect it, and allow a day to be at least 24 hours. During yesterday, everything VHF finally went quiet. Earlier symptoms turned to sickness. Must find help, but this being saturday, I shall have to wait until monday. UncleInternet found several possibilities. Then in the evening, my cooker needed several goes to start, emitting smelly grey fumes. Dinner was delayed. Then this morning, a habitual first-thing-to-do turning-on of the cabin heater resulted in lovely warmth for a few minutes, then a nasty scraping noise, (probably from a fan), and shutdown. Repair? Replace? Oh dear.

I think we shall be remaining in Bodø for several, rather expensive, days.

I wish I could sign off with the usual phrase, but no, all is not well!

A bothered John.

The north wind was still blowing when I woke up, but the forecast was for a change later to south east, which would suit us fine, so I took it easy. The upper clouds were going in the right direction, and at about 10 o’clock, I hoped that a half hour’s motoring to get out into the broad fjord would time it right. Sure did! There it was, south east, and blowing well. Up sails and engine off. One and a half hours of max speed and bouncy waves, before someone suddenly turned the wind off. The cause? Yes, wave formations:

Those sausage-clouds are at right angles to the wind direction, being caused by enormous ripples in the wind streaming off the mountains, the top of each ripple forming a sausage-cloud. Where the ripple hits the water, there is lots of wind. At the top of the ripple there is little wind at sea level. So, sails in and engine on. Then sails out and engine off. Three times! Then it all went quiet, the sun came out, and we motored the rest of the way.

Tried to take pictures of the mountains with the “Black Ice” glacier in the background:

Not very successful, water a bitt choppy, difficult to hold the camera still. Use a bit of imagination perhaps?

We did potter past a small island with an eagle on top. Attempts at photographing were comical. Camera not immediately to hand. The blob in the middle is the eagle at the bottom of its wing stroke. See it?

Probably not. Shortly after that excitement we pottered into Støtt, again the only visitor. Veeery quiet. Nobody around, until the coastal steamer arrived, then two bods appeared to help unload, one very energetic with the forklift truck. Steamer departs. Life goes quiet again. The sun was gloriously warm, and I think I may have got a bit sunburned, sitting in the cockpit and reading Naomi Klein.

Bodø tomorrow? Maybe a sailing wind to waft us there.

Alls well.

A traditional trading center, now a salmon smokery and local shop. Popular place in the season. Recently upgraded pontoons and facilities.

Overview of the trading center and smokery. Hestmonna mountain in the background. The top is a narrow ridge, very impressive, tall and vertical, if you look at it «sideways».

You can just see the Lion of Rødøy in the background, well just his head, about 10 km away. Very good restaurant there in season.
Turned out to be a sunny day today, but still too windy and chilly to carry on. Forecast for tomorrow is much more promising.

Alls well.

A late start from Vegstein when the wind turned roughly south, but not enough to sail, therefore motoring north through the myriard of islands, large, small, and very small. Legend has it that the gods who created the mountains hereabouts, got there hands all crumbly, and when they dusted them off, all these islands were created. Enough of them anyway. Charming story. Navigation is easy with well-placed posts and markers and lanterns. No traffic, except for the odd ferry plodding its rutine way from here to there.

Landscape here is both huge and magnificent, with “The Seven Sisters” dominating. Even clearer relief with the rest of snow decorating.

Then into the lagoon at Hjartøya, a very well-sheltered spot. (66 00.5 / 012 24.9). One boat tied up at the very small jetty near the entry, its crew busily ashore with a smoky grill. Further in, at the anchoring area, a hindrance to sea room. Another small floating pontoon tied with thick bluegreen ropes to both sides of the bay, with no indication of how deep they were in the middle. So, increase speed, stop engine and gear into neutral, hoping it will fold to minimum shape. Over the sunken ropes and no contact. Phew! Drop anchor, ensure good hold and take an evening, it now being nearly 9.

After a calm night, with no disturbances or large wind changes, we headed to Sandnessjøen, a couple of hours away, to, yes, again, fill up with diesel. But also, much more interesting, just over the square from the guest pontoon, is a very active fish shop. Hot fishcakes for lunch and a succulent slice of halibut for dinner later. Yum.

Then on again, this time with a sailing breeze on the quarter! Lasted all of two hours, before getting confused by the mountains and retiring, useless. Stow sails, with a sigh. The day had started quite warm and fairly sunny, but was now gradually deteriorating, obviously a front on its way in from the west. Got chilly-er, and wetter, with that sort of rain which isn’t really visible, but nevertheless penetrating. On with all-weather clothes with wool under. Better now.

The countryside hereabouts is very vertigal in a bumpy sort of way, with many small communities on the flat bits at the edges, all of them with harbours og course, and some of them with guest facilities. On our way we diverted a bit and took a peek into a few to see if they were suitable as a Plan B harbour. Promising, but without contact with the locals, busy elsewhere.

Onwards and wndy-er, head wind of course, until the “milestone” of The Arctic Circle, at 66 33,5 N, passed at 17:48, just before arriving thankfully at sheltered Selsøyvik, (66 34.5 / 12 58.8). Hurried tie-up and erection of the cockpit tent, (first time this season), to keep the elements at bay. Hunker down. Shore power on. Heater on. OK.

Quiet night, no disturbances. The season hasn’t started yet! Wind still northerly and too much to battle against, so stay put here for the day. Halibut for dinner, as I was a bit too weary yesterday to prepare it.

No pictures unfortunately, too dark and cloudy, and/or rainy, to risk cameras.

Otherwise—- Alls well.

First a bit of admin:

I have now numbered all posts from 2020. This is number 5. This is to try and “hide” previous years posts, and cocentrate on this year’s. If there is someone helpful out there who knows of a better way, I’d be glad to hear of it.

Rørvik, yes, we were there for two days waiting for the weather to change. Low cloud, rain at times, wind and chilly. Reading time.

Friday 29th forecast was promising in a lugubrious sort of way, so preparations were completed so we could set off as soon as the very-low cloud lifted and we could see where we were going. Several times. Mid-morning coffee. Lunch. Tea. Then I could see the hills on the other side of the fjord, so we set off. Visibility about a mile. After an hour or so, cloud base descended, getting too close to fog for comfort, so Plan B, Lerøya, (64 58.8 / 011 31.8), been there before, a natural place to anchor. Anchor held well in very thick seaweed and sand. (Played plough/harrow when hauling!).

Next morning dawned grey, slowly changing to blue, but calm, so set off towards Vega, motor all the way with just the occasional help from the foresail, quickly un-rolled, and reluctantly furled. Visibility was fairly good, so an attempt was made to show the magnificence of the mountains, still with some snow to provide contrast:

We passed Torghatten, the mountain with a hole through it, and then in to Brønnøysund, for a last food shopping before the long weekend, just before the shops shut, early of course. Lots of cabin cruisers, all lined up side-by-side, enjoying the sunshine and (probably) beer. Happy hour, at least.

More strange formations, appearing in the light and shadow.

Another three hours to Vegstein, (65 41.2 / 012 01.7), who welcomed me in and took ropes. Been here several times before, very friendly, local dialect not of the easiest, but marvellous humour.

Then came summer warmth, here north as well as there, down south. (Impressive pics in the media of gaggles(?), herds(?) of boats out for the first time this season).

Sometimes there is a bonus to having to get up in the middle of the night: 1:30. Dead calm. No sound. Looking due north. Midnight sun soon?

There followed two days of relaxing and boat things fixing, (I found the little leak), and one night of 13 hours sleep. Must have needed it! Apparently I slept through late-night rushings around by two noisy skidoos.

Should have taken a pic of the extraordinary clarity of the water, but forgot. In spite of being encouraged by others who enjoyed a dip, I still cannot brace myself for 12 degrees cold water.

Alls well

MotorsailorJohn

A relatively gentle start to the dag, waiting for the wind. It came, and we had a splendid sail in 10 to 15 knots wind for a while, until it gradually wouldn’t keep us going. Engine on. A visit to Lysøysund on the way, to find, and fill up with, diesel. At last!

Arrived in Stokksund in the early evening sunshine to find a deserted guest pontoon, and also deserted facilities. A very quiet harbour, well protected from all directions. In previous visits, full av motorboats.

A careful study of the weather forecast for the next few days gave cause for thought. Tomorrow OK. next few days, not so OK, with much rain and strong winds. So, where to go and hide? The choice was Rørvik, a long way at 60 nm, but with other, less suitable places on the way if things deteriorated.

So alarm for 5 and away hurriedly at 6, suitably clothed in everything warm, and stocked with sandwiches, hardboiled eggs, chocolate and fruit, and full thermoses.

A nearly full tank allowed more motor rpm than normal, and in calm weather and calm seas, we rushed along at 6 knots, all alone in the wide fjords, with very little navigating needed. Autopilot. Book. Radio. VHF forecast. Whats this? Wind? Activity. Sailing for a good half hour, and then back to motoring boredom. Well, at least it was a change! The forecast rain appeared, on schedule, for the last hour. Fairly thin rain it was but remarkably chilly. Almost 10 hours to the minute, and into the rather full, but inactive harbour, at Rørvik. Three other sailboats, one, newly purchased, on passage from Harstad to Drammen, one anonymous, and one rather green-covered and sad. Otherwise motorboats. Lots of them. A pic of only a small portion of the harbour:

Yesterday a domestics day, with shopping between the showers,(opplettsbyger, takk Kari), and dinner at the Italian restaurant. Delicious smakfull pasta, but much too much. Slow walk home, past the museum, where a small portion of Rørvik’s large population of very noisy kittiwakes, (krykkje) had made nesting places:

Today, chilly still, with just as much wind, but only small amounts of rain, means another harbour day. Maybe I can find that very small water leak under the toilet? Forecast looks better for tomorrow. Hope so!

Alls well.

At the end of a relaxed day yesterday, the sun shone and the breeze died away, and suddenly it was shorts time and sunsoaking in the cockpit. Didn’t last long unfortunately, but a nice foretaste of what might come later.

Today, sunday, I woke very late, (must have needed it!), but didn’t hurry. Goal for the day was Djupfest, not so far, but a good starting point for the next stretch. Dagens disappointment: No diesel! Must have been too many large and thirsty cabin cruisers ahead of me in the queue.

So, check can. Full, 10 liters. Enough. ‘Cos today we sailed! Whooppee! først a bit of motoring, back to where we came from, to round the “Toe” of Ørland, and just as we got there, the wind came in, 10 to 15 knots, and sails were hoisted and rolled out in a hurry. Close hauled we tacked up the fairway, avoiding the nasties, until the wind died to 7 knots and veered to direct ahead. Anyway, here is the track for today.

Other boats were somewhere else, probably on their way back to Trondheim after the long weekend, so navigating was much simplified.

Djupfest is a very small harbour, and no defined guest places. Luckily someone appeared. “Yes, he’s away, you can stay there until tomorrow”.

Forecast is for rain early. so no hurry up. Goal is Stokksund, where we have been several times before. Remember the “rømmegraut” Margie?

Alls well, from SailorJohn.

We left Ålesund on wednesday in glorious sunshine and a gentle breeze on the nose. Engine on of course. a clean hull and a polished propeller make good speed, nearer 6 than 5 knots. Bodes well. Compass needs re-calibrating, the instruments show Josin is heading about 30 degrees to where we are actually going.

Snow the last few days show the mountains in all their glory.

And then sometimes strange shapes appear which you don’t see otherwise: Is this a sleeping dog, with enormous paws? Or is it a turtle?

Then, after hours of pottling along, the only sight of interest being the early stages of a long bridge being built, on three artificial islands, over to Lepsøy. Odd to see a road-going crane perched on the rockfill. Admiring the view along the way we got to Bud, 62 54.3 / 006 54.4, a normal place to stop before traversing Hustavika, which can be rough, due it being open to the North Sea.

Not today though, thursday, it was flat calm, in exceptional visibility, so navigating the first intricate bit, was a doddle. Goal was Kristiansund, but conditions were benign, speed was good, helped at times by a following current, and it seemed too early to stop, så Plan B. Straumen, på Smøla. 68 19.8 / 008 04.7. 45 nm for the day. Good progress.

Friday, yesterday, had it all. A reasonably early start, again in flat calm conditions and glorious sunshine, was initiated by a heron slowly and majestically flapping past to land at his fishing spot. We approached, very gently, and rewarded to see him spear a fish and flap back to his nest. Then a bit further on, an eagle demonstrated how to catch a fish his way. Wow. Seen pictures before, by not for real. He was hounded all the way back to his nest by bombarding gulls, who tried to relieve him of his catch, but they didn’t succeed.

On and on up the Trondheimsleia, a wide, very long fjord with little to admire. Windmills undecided. There was indication of a coming of wind. YR.no had forecast such, but got it rather wrong. A fickle breeze which came and went in many directions, to the frustration of this sailor, until we gave up and motored again. Then the weather started to change. Wind, yes, but not really sailable, until conditions began to gradually deteriorate. Cloud cover getting thicker, sailable wind, at last, and temperature falling. (Unusual, from 1024 mBar at day start to 1009 mBar at day end). Full sail and a reasonable speed. Over the next hours, wind increased from the south, (we were headed ENE, so, good) current turned against, kicking up short sharp waves, and the occasional rain shower. Sail gradually reduced until with rolled-in foresail and two reefs in the main, and we still sped through the water. Max windspeed i saw on the instrument was 38 knots, more than twice what was forecast. Exciting! My otherwise highly dependable autopilot, whom I call Rorbert, (ror means tiller in Norwegian), couldn’t quite cope with the effect of sudden waves, steering in a succession of not-quite-stable zigzags, so I had to steer. Kept me busy. But we got a bit wet and somewhat cold. (Who forgot to lock down the front hatch before starting off? It leaked!). The last two hours were very frustrating, with no less than two to two-and-a-half knots of current against, making progress very slow. Finally reached Brekstad, (63 41.2 / 009 40.3), and the protection from the worst of the waves inside the harbour wall. Wind still over 30 knots, and a bit of a pantomime ensued, trying to keep the boat reasonably out of harms way while getting the very reluctant rest of the mainsail down. (The halyard had somehow inviegled its way into the sailtrack). A fishing boat skipper waited patiently on the pontoon to grab my lines, and made suitable (local dialect, indecipherable in the wind) comments afterwards, with a broad grin on his face. Wind was blowing off-pontoon, so his help was invaluable.

Took some time to get properly tied up, with many ropes and fenders, sail stowed, and kettle on. That cuppa tea was nectar! Sleep later was difficult as the dancing, corkscrewing motion and tugging of moorings, were not easy to shut out of the consciousness.

All calm again this morning. Late breakfast and a wander into town for an unobtainable kitchen thing. But, there was a bakery open doing good trade, and I succumbed to a very sticky bun and a coffee. Back to boat and sleep som more!

It transpired that a narrow front had gone through, not forecast by YR.no, but reasonably visible on The Met Office’s synoptic charts which I looked at afterwards. Moral: Check all sources of weather information! They might even agree.

YR.no says nice day tomorrow, with winds slowing down mid morning, and in a sailable direction. Let us hope it checks!