Josin's 2025 cruise

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.

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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,

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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.

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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.

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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:

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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.

Hopsjø: 63 37.7 , 8 43.2

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.

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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.

Alls well.

Trondheim: 63 26.0, 10 22.3. Storfosna: 63 39.2, 9 24.0. (OK Roy?)

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.

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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:

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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.

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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).

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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.

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Hopefully more sailing wind tomorrow. Alls well.

Yesterday I received a message from Telenor, my telephone and internet provider, that I “had used up all my data, and that I could buy more via Telenor’s app”. Bother. What it didn’t say was that communication was also stopped. Communication was needed to access the app………. You’ve guessed it…………… A helpful man in the phone department in the Power shop here in Sandnessjøen just now, after several telephone calls, managed to sort things out, and I am now back in the land of the digital living. I didn’t like that experience!

Back to boating. Rødøy, Klokkergården. If you order it, a loaf of fresh bread is delivered to your boat at breakfast time. Still warm, very healthy sort of bread, and quite irresistible. Nearly half of it disappeared in no time.

Studying the various weather forecasts for forthcoming winds enabled a plot: Motorsail out to Myken, and then, next day, sail all the way to Sandnessjøen. It nearly worked. To prepare for more active sailing, and as the pontoon at Rødøy was spacious and clean, I took off the smallish jib, and hoisted the much larger genua instead. (Folding and sacking sails needs floorspace). Generously helped by xxxx. Much easier with two.

There was less than forecast wind out to Myken, but we did sail some of the way. On Myken is an automatic weather station, including this rather strange apparatus:

I think the whirligig on the right houses a rain-measuring device in the middle, which you can’t see. The blades hanging from the top rail made a sad rustling sound in the wind. You can just see in the distance the mountains on the mainland. A recent and strange development on Myken is a distillery. Yes, a distillery! It certainly seemed to attract visitors. A peep into the shed revealed a long table with customers seated on long benches with multiple small glasses with light brown fluids in front of them. An articulate lady at the head presumably explaining the different sorts. I couldn’t hear what she was saying so I retreated, quietly. So that was why there was no one around in the harbour!

The evening, about ten, produced some interesting light-effects. A rainstorm which scudded past the harbour, leaving shredded clouds:

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Woke early next morning and checked the wind forecasts. Yes, the same message as yesterday, good. Hurry the morning routine, including two thermoses, and sandwiches, and then away, glorious morning. Out the narrow channel into the open sea, to find rather less wind than expected and rather more, rather confused waves. That combination was frustrating as the boat motion confused the sails, and progress was near zero. So, on with the engine and hope for better conditions, which didn’t appear until we were sheltered from the waves. An interesting sight on the horizon though: They’ve all got names of course.

At last I could hoist the mainsail and the genakker and we cruised along at a respectable speed. Autopilot working well and I could relax and enjoy the ride. I’ve been asked to somehow show where we’ve been, so here is the route from Myken to Sandnessjøen. (I really wanted to show the track, but somehow it disappeared. I’ll do better next time).

47 nautical miles, (about 85 km), and about 9 hours. We started sailing at about point 7, so about half of the way. Better than nothing. The last stretch in to Sandnessjøen was enhanced by the impressive sight of one of Norway’s proud TallShips, the “Christian Radich”, now used as both a training and a cruise ship. Doesn’t hoist it’s sails until out in open water!

The other “little” sailing boat in the picture is a 45 footer, which came in to the harbour just after us. Give you size-perspective.

Today it is blowing hard, in the right direction, but also raining enough to stay put. (Apart from needing to sorting out the data-poggle). Few setting out braving the elements, but a few bedraggled arrivals. My heater is going nicely, so I am warm and dry. Fresh fish for dinner, from the fish shop opposite the harbour, halibut. Yum!

Alls well!

Departure from Bliksvær was significantly delayed. Engine startup produced hiccupping and coughing noises, and not much go. Filter blockage probably. So, changed both the primary and the secondary. Both difficult to get at, of course. Normally a routine job every autumn at lay-up time. Either I forgot last autumn, or I have filled up with some very dirty fuel. Anyway, after spilling the absolute minimum of fuel, caught in rags and a breakfast cereal bowl, (only thing small enough to fit under the filter), and priming with squeegy pump, the engine burst into its normal song. Maybe a task for the winter is designing a non-dripping, filter-changer device. Breakfast museli with diesel aroma is not the best.

So, we didn’t get to Støtt, too far after the late start, so we stopped at Sørfugleøy, (67 03.1 /013 46.5) instead. No sailing wind. Small guest pontoon, space for four boats, Josin, fifth, at the end. Amusing entertainment on the way was to watch a gull dive-bombing an eagle sitting on the top of a small island. Each time the gull dived past, the eagle did a two-flap-hopp almost into the air. Again and again and again, until I was too far off to see. Why didn’t the eagle just stay calm, instead of reacting? The gull was never closer than half a meter.

Sørfugleøy has some very impressive mountain formations, difficult to photograph. Several hundred vertigal meters, and some amazing tops.

Morning “dawned” calm and sunny, (well, about 6), and I was tempted to have a dip and inspect the propeller. Down the ladder as far as my knees, no, too cold. No further. No prop inspection. Hot shower instead.

Sunshine didn’t last long, clouds thickened and lowered and started to leak. Any wind was much on the nose, so motored all the way, trying to keep dry by huddling under the sprayhood. Past Støtt and its restaurant, to Rødøy, to Klokkergården, where there is another restaurant, where I have just had a very enjoyable fishy dinner. Chefs artistry and exquisite tastes. Very busy restaurant, and well deserved.

Tomorrow? Need to sniff the weather in the morning and judge the forecast before deciding.

Alls well

A lightly drizzly rainy day was suitable for tourism. Norsk Luftfarts Museum, (Norwegian Aeronautical Museum), is in a magnificent building close to the north end of Bodø Airport’s runway, absolutely stacked with exhibits and information, both about what has happened in the air since about 1910, but also associated ground activities, specially during WW2.

Early aviation, here in Norway same as everywhere else, was coloured by inexperience, unreliability, accidents and far too many fatalities. Brave people, and extraordinary achievements nonetheless.

There, hanging from the ceiling, were three aircraft to which I can relate: 1. The SG 38 trainer, which Slingsby copied, gave it a body, and called it the Cadet, and in (on?) which we Cottons started our careers. I flew an SG 38, rather draughty, but educational.

2) Then there was the North American Harvard, in which I spent many happy hours flying with the Cambridge University Air Squadron. Remember it a bit of a beast on the ground, but wonderful once in the air.

3) The inevitable Tiger Moth. How many were built? Thousands probably. And how many pilots trained on them? Also thousands certainly. I flew one, the aerotow plane at The London Gliding Club at Dunstable. Ah! Those were the days!

Came out after, for the information-overfilled brain, a resusticating and sustaining cup of coffee and a piece of apple tart, into the rain, and the bike ride back to the boat. Wet. Rest of the day drying out and also laundry.

Next day, more tourism, this time to the newly-opened Jektefarts Museum. A jekt was a boat built for goods transport, the one in the museum, “Anna Karolina”, built in 1876, and used for transport of dried fish from Lofoten to Bergen, and other goods on the return journey. One of the very few still in existence of the very many used for the coastal trade for over four hundred years. They were the life-blood arteries of trade, there being no roads to speak of in those days. It was impossible to take a pic of Anna Karolina because one couldn’t back off far enough to take in her enormous size. 60 feet long, 21 feet wide, The mainsail measured 14,5 meters wide and 10,5 meters high., The mast was originally 27 meters tall. Those interested further can google “jektefart.no”.

Then back to my, by comparison, miniscule boat, Josin, and a by-motor journey in the evening to Bliksvær, (67 16.6 / 14 00.5), several boats arriving at the same time and almost slow-motion musical chairs to get tied up. Josin safely the jam in a bigger-boat sandwich. Forecast was for a sudden half-gale in the early hours, so ropes were carefully arranged in all directions. I don’t think it blew, it didn’t wake me up anyway.

Goal for the day, in an unfortunately contrary wind, so it will be mostly motor, is Støtt, a well-sheltered harbour where there is a very good restaurant.

Alls well.

A rather bouncy night made it difficult to get the day going, so we didn’t leave Nordskot until after elevenses, but there was a pleasant northwesterly breeze blowing, and as soon as we were out in open water, the genakker was unfurled and we had a wonderful, gentle sail, past impressive mountains:

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Goal for the day was therefore Nordfold, a small town quite a way into the Foldafjord, as the now-westerly wind was carrying us there. But, the wind gradually died, and we went in to Heimsund, on Hjartøya, ( 67 39.3 / 015 02.7) instead. Here was a long slowly-shelving bay leading to a wide sandy beach, with people, the family sort, of all sizes. We were at just after the bottom of the tide, an ideal time to enter an unknown place. My newly-calibrated depth-sounder told me gradually less water, boatspeed at an absolute minimum, until it showed 0,9 meters, so we stopped, the bottom, of clean sand under green water, very clearly visible. Drop anchor and back. Firm hold. Still a long way from the beach. Pleasant evening in the sun-filed cockpit, reading and enjoying the cloud formations, and snoozing. Early to bed to try and compensate for the previous night.

Woke early, much refreshed, to a light north-easterly breeze, and managed to hurry the routine to get away, to again, a gentle genakker sail. Unfortunately the wind gradually veered more and more easterly until, with the genakker still just filled and drawing, we were almost headed out to sea. Not sensible, so genakker got rolled in and foresail out and main sail up. Just managed close-hauled to keep desired course for a while, until more veering of the wind meant I had to down sails and start the engine. Headed for Hjelløy, where there is a mooring buoy. ( 67 32.7 / 014 29.3), Been there several times before. On the way in there is a small. low little island, and on it standing sentinel on its highest (!) point, was a sea eagle. I slowed down to almost stop, and watched. The bird watched me, just fifty meters away. I crept below to fetch the camera, but I must have scared him , as he flapped majestically away. No picture. Could have been a good one. Into the bay, surprisingly five boats, including one on the buoy. Bother. Tried anchoring several times, but the bottom was all thick seaweed, and we only succeeded in ploughing up sheaves of it, without holding. People on the other boats watched, and were probably amused. Then, wonders, the motorboat on the mooring left, so we quickly tied up to it, closing entertainment for the day for the masses.

Evening was absolutely calm, with interesting skies reflected in the mirror-water: Looking east. Looking west.

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Forecast for today was for partly cloudy and very little wind, which checked, so we boringly motored all the way to Bodø. Guest harbour was overfull, two abreast here also, and after a good deal of looking, found a spot on the fuel pontoon where there wasn’t a “reserved” sign, together with three other sailing boats, with just space for Josin. Managed to touch the one ahead with Josin’s bowsprit, which I had forgotten to take in. (Can’t see it from the cockpit). No damage. Smiling skipper, who took my ropes.

Only 19 nautical miles today, all motoring. Shame. I’d rather got used to sailing! Forecast is for rain tomorrow, so a little shopping and some tourism is in order. The National Aeronautical Museum is here.

Alls well.