Josin's 2025 cruise

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:

• 

• 

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

• 

• 

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.

• 

• 

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

Josin’s 2021 Cruise, 2.

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.

Another cuppa while we wait.

All’s well

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.

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.

Looking forward to next year already!

John

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.

Alls well!