Josin's 2025 cruise

There’s something soothing about fog. Sharp edges smoothed out, sounds muffled, view restricted. Take it easy!

On our way in to Oslo to show Josin’s non-standard safety features on saturday to a few interested people. Yesterday, wednesday, was busy delivering and collecting things, including a pulleyblock which was recommended would help reduce the genakker-rope’s tendencies to wuzzle. Fitted. Genakker hoisted. Wait for a little breeze to test things out. Late afternoon, OK. Out and head north in the southerly breeze. Un-roll genakker, Success. Sail a bit. Try a gybe. Success. Sail some more. Try a roll-up. Difficult. Too much wind in the sail. Un-roll genoa, behind which the genakker can hide. Try roll-up again. Success  This is fun. Oops! Land approaching. Head north again. Un-roll genakker. Easypeasy. Roll-up genoa. There we are, genakker pulling us along at splendid speed in 10 to 15 knots of wind, and in the direction I wanted to go. Delightful. Easy sail to Bile, outside Son on the east side of the Oslofjord, where a friendly mooring buoy awaited, the wind dying away in the setting sun making genakker roll-up a cinch.

Late wok dinner. Two other boats potter in to other buoys. Dark, until a near-full moon creeps up over the trees and makes a glittering stipe on the water. Fog starts to form. Sleep. Of course, the mooring buoy has to come during the night and bump the hull, gently of course, (must be lonely), until the combination of breeze and current sort themselves out.

Thick fog early this morning, vis about 20 meters. Sort out the mooring buoy wuzzle and go back to sleep, to the sound of mournful foghorns out in the shipping lane.

It is now lunchtime, and although the fog has thinned, vis now about 100 meters, I do not want to navigate the relatively narrow Drøbak sound in poor vis. Them big ships rushing along have radar and can hopefully see Josin, but I have only AIS which is not so effective at seeing others, so lunch will be taken, then a snooze before continuing.

Not a breath of wind of course.

All’s well.

The sailing season is not over yet, thankfully, but nor is the fixit season. Since gennaker sailing had been a rope-twiddling frustration at times, efforts have been made to cure the disease. The gennaker is on a roller-furler. A continuous furler-rope goes from the cockpit and to the end of the bowsprit, and round a pulley at the bottom of a torsionally-stiff rope to the top of the mast, with a swivel at the top. Pulling on one side of the furling-rope then roller-furls the sail from the top down. Easy. Theory and practice do not always match though, do they?. Setting the sail is the reverse, yes?. Well, not quite. There is the sail, neatly rolled up, hoisted to the masthead, and sheets attached. Ready? Yes. Start the unfurling by hauling on the sheet, furling-rope slack, wind gets into the top of the sail, and frantic rotation unfurls the sail from the top down, as you haul in on the sheet. Until it stops.  Prematurely.  Sail half-unfurled shaped like an hour-glass and full of straining wind. The furling rope gets stuck and gets twiddled around places it shouldn’t. This must only happen when there is plenty of time to think, plenty of sea-room to carry on sailing, and rapid problem-solving available.

The problem was laid before my friendly sailmaker/supplier, Sverre Tangerud of Elvstrøm Sails, and checks asked, modifications suggested, and made, one of which was a thinner furler-rope, less likely to get stuck. Correct. It didn’t get stuck nearly as often. What more? Other sailors in a gathering around the bowsprit with more-or-less helpful suggestions, and changes made, including a new fitting as the old one decided to take a swim.

I think we’re nearly there. Just waiting now for suitable, gentle conditions to go out and test. Last test-sail, before the mods, resulted in a bent bowsprit, when the sail, first wind-empty in the shadow of a large, high-stacked container ship, then suddenly very wind-full and powerful. Nothing broke, which is yet another proof that Josin takes good care of me, also when I make a mistake!. (Or should that be if…).

Note: The competitive instinct is not yet dead. We took part in the tuesday-evening regatta. Nine boats. Discussion theme: The strong wind. Not too bad at the start, but it got stronger. But although my physical strength was put to the test, I was competing, and didn’t come last, so there!

All’s well

Plan A was Jomfruland. Plan B was Stavern. There was no Plan C, BUT…..

The wind blew from the south west, as forecast, but stronger. Then stronger. Then stronger still. Then the waves built up, and soon we were rolling and pitching our way at an incredible speed. So, when Plan B would have been completed just after lunchtime, thoughts went to Tallakshavn, in the Tønsberg fjord. Getting closer, the MarineTraffic oracle showed another sailboat moored to the buoy there, so that was not popular any more. Then distances got measured, and it wasn’t so very much further to home port, Åsgårdstrand. And now, at about 18:30, the wind, although less, is still holding up and we are bowling smoothly along at 5 and a half knots, in the evening sunshine. What could be better. 

Smoothly yes, which allows typing on the iPad and hitting the right keys, which was not possible earlier, I tried! At its roughest, the competing wave patterns steered Josin so much that Rorbert the autopilot couldn’t keep up, so I had a long session practicing anticipatory steering, and the veering was significantly reduced. Passing Færder, the seas suddenly got smoother, so Robert was put to work again while I could get some sustenance, which of course had not been planned for so long a day. Also the thermos with hot water had decided to take a dive from its normally safe perch. Bad. Tried making tea with hot tap water? Not so good. 

This is only the second day this summer when we have sailed all day. What a terrible statistic! Surely better next summer, or ELSE!

All’s well!

A pause for Josin in Lillesand while I took a trip by train, bus and car, to Kongsberg, Oslo and Sandefjord, specially to help celebrate Odd Are’s 60th birthday, in “Vallhall” a suitable meeting location outside Sandefjord.  A splendid party, theme moustache, (bart in Norwegian), so it was a Barty. Ida and Hanne had done a splendid organising job, managing to keep it a surprise for Odd Are up to the day before. 40-ish guests, all with either a family or friendly connection from over the years. Odd Are welcomed each and every one in his speech. Well done!

I had hoped for some sightseeing enjoying the train ride from Kristiansand to Kongsberg, but the weather was not clement both ways, so the view was mostly of low cloud, rain and trees. Friend Svein Tangen, also a Ballad owner, in Lillesand, was most helpful in finding Josin a berth and also ferrying me around. Also two succulent dinners with him and his partner Hilde. So although a bit hectic, a successful interlude off the water.

So today it was back to ‘sailing’, well, motorsailing, from Lillesand to Finnøy, where Risør Seilforening has its facility. Too little wind to make fast enough progress without help from the engine, but it was a lovely day to be enjoyed on the water, even though it was remarkably bumpy. Strong currents competing with waves and rollers. Very easy to spill the coffee. Josin consumes about one and a half liters of diesel an hour, and I consume about one and a half deci-liters of un-spilled coffee an hour.

I need a quick visit to Risør tomorrow morning, to find something suitable for fixing the transducer for the echosounder, which came loose this morning, which resulted in no depth signal just in the tricky, shallow bit of course. Having fixed that, then further on in the direction of home port. Forecast is for south west winds, which should be great, except that they may be a bit strong for lazy sailing later in the day. No worries.

All’s well.

Long time no post, sorry! Today is monday, 22.August, and this little bay is perfectly protected from the southwester which blew us here today, from Farsund

But to go back a bit…..

We were in Espevær. Next, a longish motoring day, in mist and sunshine,  to Tananger, where Ballad owner Jan Monstad came aboard for a chat and hopefully some advice as to how to straighten out his pulpit, which had been savaged by a motor cruiser in Bekkjarvik harbour. Not much help unfortunately. But we exchanged mods and fixes.

An early ‘start’ next day, well, 7:30 is pretty early for us, with all the things to do before setting off. Longest day this year, 80 nm, to Skarvøy, a few nm SW of Farsund, arriving just after sunset at 21:30. Motor on all the way, with occasional help from the sails. Careful study of YR.no website for sea currents revealed that although the main, and strong, current past the exposed coast is north-going, there were many places close to the shore where eddies were south-going, so we kept to the ‘shallows’ all the way. A large Dutch motor-sailer didn’t, and we re-took him several times.

The reason for the long day was to try to get ’round the corner, Lindesnes, before the weather changed, but no, the day after was a stay-put day with strong SE winds and rain. So Skarvøy, for two days, where the first was spent sleeping several times to re-charge the batteries a bit.  In the afternoon a flotilla of four local motorboats arrived, tied up and put up a makeshift tent on the jetty. Much merriment trying to tame the tarpaulin in the wind and rain before it got securely lashed down. Then the party stared, it was, after all, saturday evening. I reckoned that it would crescendo till late, so I excused us, and pottered off to the other jetty a couple of hundred meters away, and enjoyed the quiet and my book, and the company of a heron. Sunday was spent reading and snoozing, and the weather gradually improved.

This morning we motored in to Farsund to re-fuel, necessary, as the tank was pretty empty after the previous days’ motoring, Then out to sea and past Lindesnes. Favourable wind, in strength and direction, so we sailed, at speed, but the seas were still large and confused, and we bounced, pitched and rolled our way eastward. Again, shaken but not deterred. Difficult to not spill the coffee. The sea was ’empty’. not another boat in sight the whole day, so for most the summer seems to be over. Or perhaps the seas were a bit daunting.

Two more days to Lillesand, to my Ballad friend Svein Tangen, for more chat and Ballad-eering.

All’s well

Here I sit, in the fog with visibility down to about half a mile, engine purring away as it is very good at, watching and waiting for the miles to slip by.

We are now south of Bergen. Spent the night in a tiny harbour on Huftarøy. Very quiet and deserted except for a gang of kids shoving each other into the water to loud and happy screeching and shouting. 

Woke early in the hopes of starting early, but the fog was too thick, so the other ear hit the pillow. By 9, visibility had improved sufficiently and we pottered off, coffeemug at the ready. 

Josin is equipped with three defences against the fog. 

1. The AIS system, which sends out my position signal over the VHF frequencies every 30 seconds, and which all other boats (the vast majority now), can see on their chartplotter, and I can see them.

2. An Echomax active aerial which, when it receives a radar ‘ping’, sends a ‘ping’ out, which means that a receiver thinks that Josin is bigger than she is. No, it isn’t cheating, small sailboats are notoriously poor radar reflectors, and this is in self defence!

3. My ears. I can’t hear bats any more, and operatic sopranos’ high notes are painful, but I am pretty good at rumbles. 

Today, the low-tech was the saviour. These high-speed catamaran ferries are on you before you can say highspeedcatamaranferries, specially if they are coming from aft, and I heard his diesel-rumble before the tech reacted. Of course it was in a relatively small space amongst the islands, and I made a dive for the rocky shore. I think he may have ‘seen’ me as he was doing less than the usual 25 knots as he rushed past, but still leaving Josin bobbing and me relieved. No time in the fog for doing anything else than keeping a sharp look out. 

We are now out in the broad Selbjørnsfjord, visibility is much improved and time and opportunity to write this. Also to dig deeper into the jungle of under-menus on the chartplotter, and whadduknow, the AIS has an audible alarm function, which is now activated. Moral: read all the instructions!

Goal for the day is Espevær, on the southwest corner of Bømlo. It would be nice if the fog would clear, and the wind would blow from north-ish. Sigh. Coffee’s gone cold, but otherwise-

All’s well

The trip from Ålesund to Gardemoen to welcome John Magnus was long, interesting, tiring and well worth it. I’m still not sure if he knew I was going to be there, but the grin was ear-to-ear and the hugs huge. Mum Kari first, we others afterwards.

It turned out that the train I rode from Åndalsnes to Dombås, up the Rauma valley, was the last for a while, as there is a mighty gigantic rock, “Mannen”, poised over the valley at a critical point, and in fear of descending because of all the rain. Road and railway now closed, people evacuated. Unknown re-open date. Lucky I had planned to fly back.

Drama while I was away. The wind, a southwester, blew very hard straight into Ålesund harbour, and caused waves which annoyed all the sailing boats there, and threatened to cause damage. I got a message from Viel who had seen pictures on the online local newspaper. My phone got punched trying to contact help, but luckily the harbour folk, and the next-door boat had got things sorted out by the time I spoke to someone who knew, and who could reassure me that the panic was over. Trust that sort of thing to happen just when one was away for the day! Subsequently the helpful boat, “Fri”, and Josin have taken same routes and times. Reassuring.

From Ålesund we took the inland route through fjords to Larsnes. Quiet, specially in the rain. Forecast for next day, yesterday, thursday, was promising for the trip round the Statt headland, which always has exaggerated weather. True forecast, sunshine and showers and not much wind, but the forecast didn’t say anything about seas in several directions, including strong reflections from the cliffs. We bounced. We rolled. We pitched. We got sprayed. We got rained upon and rinsed for salt. Patience was rewarded and we tied up in Måløy harbour, slightly shaken but not deterred.

Forecast for this morning was for lots more rain, but very little wind, so the idea of waiting a day was put off. From Måløy to Florø is a sort of zigzag of fjords, where the wind gusts can, and did, come not only from several directions, but also from above. It rained the whole way, and the consensus among the several boats which had made the same passage was that wet was the descriptive word for the day. (Hanging sailing clothes still not dry). More of the same tomorrow, but should clear up at lunchtime. If so, then a late midday start and a fairly short day I expect.

All’s well

Next date on the calender is Tuesday 9th, the day John Magnus returns from his sojourn in the great US of A, to Gardemoen, and I intend to be part of the welcoming gang. Only way of getting there and back is to start from somewhere with a transport ‘hub’, and Ålesund is an excellent one. 

Josin is comfortably tied up in Ålesund Seil Foreningen’s extensive harbour in Nørvevika, in a borrowed bay, offered for a few days by Fredrik Hessen, harbour master in Nørvevika, whom I met at Molde Seil Forening’s island home at Hjertøya a few days ago. Very kind. Very lucky for me. 

As progress was fairly rapid recently, some sailing but mostly motor, there are a few days to wait. First job when settled was to donn full wetgear and sink to the propeller, which had been vibrating. Two anonymous plastic bags and some thin rope. Probably picked up when I navigated close to the shore to make space for a woosh-ferry catamaran in a narrow sound. Didn’t see it, as the cat was rather more important! Prop and hull look remarkably clean, maybe due to the cold water temperature this season. 

The other, unkind, boat gremlin had decided that I didn’t need my water thermometer some days ago, and as there is, according to uncle google, a Clas Ohlson emporium, (has everything, and you go in to buy one or two things and come out with many), a few km inland at the Moa shopping center. Short walk, uphill, puff, to the bus stop. Short wait. Very welcoming bus driver. 15 minutes ride. Alarmingly large shopping center, in three departments, and no info screens. One narrow brochure with tiny, microscopically unreadable-text map, listing all the shops, with telephone numbers and nothing else. The smiling lady in the first stall inside the main door must get very tired of strangers asking where. 

Thermometer, and several other things in the back pack, later, I met my good friend Viel Dalegård who drove us up to Aksla, local mountain viewpoint and tourist attraction. On earlier occasions, I have climbed the several hundred steps up from the town, but a strong feeling of ‘been there, done that’ happily anaethetised the conscience. The restaurant produced an excellent fish soup lunch which was enjoyed, as well as the view and the company. The view really is fantastic, almost full circle, from the inner fjord, past mainland mountains, right round past the main harbour and town, to the outer islands and ocean. Must do, if you are here. Weatherwise, visibilty was excellent too. Tick good. 

Tuesday I travel a couple of hours alongside the fjords, by bus to Åndalsnes, there catch the scenic train to Dombås, then the main north-south express direct to the airport. Easy. First-time sightseeing. Sit on the shady side hopefully. Weather forecast grey, so it probably will not matter. Return by plane in the late evening. Long day. Have purchased eye-shade and earplugs. 

Today, being sunday, is for relaxation, isn’t it?  Weather not ecouraging. OK. New book. The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins. Tomorrow I get busy, promise. Josin needs attention, domestic style. 

All’s well

Just had to repeat, in English, what I’d written on the N-language site!

Friday 27th.. july was one of those days which occur very seldom and remain in the memory a long time.

It started in Utvorda (pos: 64 35,67 / 010 56,99) , a very small harbour in the Flatanger area of islands and rocks, where we had ended up because the intended place, Brakstad, was probably over-full of boats which had overtaken us on the way there.

A blue sky sunny morning, with a breath of northerly wind, was promising, and after much motoring navigating through the islands we came out into the open sea where the wind was a bit stronger. I had thought that we had used up all the northerly winds on the way up the coast, so this was a pleasant surprise. Up and unroll the gennakker:

And there it stayed, for nearly eight hours straight, and towed us along at varying speeds for the rest of the day. I chose the route outside the islands on the way, to avoid having to gybe too often, as the gybing technique wasn’t too good, particularly when the wind went over 15 knots and the sheet loading got heavy. (Memo to self: get gybing instruction). The landscape slid gradually and gratifyingly astern and it was very late in the evening before the wind became breeze became waft and the engine had to be started and disturb the quiet again.

The day’s run was 66,8 GPS nautical miles, of which over 40 were under gennakker. Must be sort of a record that. Ended up in Djupfest, (been there several times) just as the sun set into the sea in a glory of colour-clouds.

Since then it has been engine only, from Djupfest to Sistrand on the NE end of Frøya against very wet waves and wind, to Kristiansund, via lunch break Kvenvær on Hitra, in flat calm but contra-current, over Hustavika in calm wind but rolly and choppy seas, to here, Tornes. Over 180 nautical miles in three days must also be a new ‘best’. A heavy thunderstorm last night woke me with a start at to am and rinsed the boat clean of salt, then degenerated into steady dripping drizzle. We stay here today. Clothes wash and other domestics.

All’s well

Tied up to a wobbly small pontoon at Gutviksvågen, (pos: 65 05,15 / 011 50,19). Very calm, no one around. Something is leaking diesel my nose says.
Left Vegstein yesterday, slightly late start waiting for the weather to clear, and for the wind to be favourable. It was, though a bit of tacking was necessary to get to Brønnøysund. Sailed almost all the way. Looked at a possible place for Josin to spend a winter, (not this coming one), run by the person who sat next to me during the concert last friday. Happenchance!

Monday was the boat trip, out to two island groups, firstly to Skjærvær, home to one of the largest fishing communities in the area, until only a few decades ago. Now used as an occasional retreat. One caretaker-man lives there, born and bred. Told us stories of life as it was, both bad times and good times. His quiet dialect, dampened by the sighing of the wind around the buildings, was difficult, so I cannot re-tell!

Then on to Bremstein, a good deal further south, where nobody lives, but is more actively used for courses and seminars.

The boat was a ca. 40 foot, twin-engined, 30-seater, which rushed along at about 25 knots, even when negotiating between all those rocks and small islands. Some of the gaps were frighteningly narrow, but the captain was quite unconcerned. Done it before, sure!

Bremstein was also a fishing community, and to make it more usable and secure, a long breakwater was built, between 1908 and 1916. Before modern machinery of course, and an incredibly impressive result. The top is flat and level, with jumbo crazy paving on the surface, the stones being mostly several square meters each. Must have been the world’s biggest and heaviest jigsaw puzzle. One for the Guiness Book!

There followed a smoke-y barbeque, the gentle breeze wafting smoke and smells everywhere one sat. Never mind, succulent it was.

Then the boat ride back, in the twilight, high-speed slalom. Impressive Cu-Nb clouds over Vega, towering sunlit-high and leaking in quantities. 

The rain had stopped before we came ashore luckily. But unluckily it had found its way into Josin’s dry clothes cupboard, and down into the other matress. I cannot fathom where it is coming in. After all my efforts, and sealing compounds, there are no apparent entry points left, or so I think!

Another leak happened this morning, hot water suddenly appearing underfoot. Unusual! A loose hose clamp was the culprit, easily fixed. But the boat gremlin must have had something to do with it, as he made me empty everything out of the starboard cockpit locker to get to the leak, and then revealed the long-lost torch, which I thought had been thrown overboard by the other creature.

Actually now thursday, delay due to internet silence. Now in a tiny harbour, Utvorda, (pos: 64 35,67 / 010 56,99), south of Rørvik, diverted to here after being overtaken by too many boats heading for Brakstad for the space available there. No one around here to ask if we can stay, so we stay!

All’s well