We departed Wick the next day on the promised SE4 and enjoyed fabulous sailing with only one cause for alarm. That was when a coaster approached us on our starboard bow. All he had to do, was to alter course a few degrees to pass astern of us, however, he maintained his course. When he got too close I put the boat to starboard to throw the headsail aback allowing him to pass ahead of us. At this moment somebody shot out of the wheelhouse, leapt down to the ‘old man’s’ deck and hammered on his door. He hurried out of his cabin, disappeared into the wheelhouse and the vessel sheered away to starboard, took a round turn and finished by going a stern of us.
We set the log to zero and settled down for the 330 miles to Norway.
During the day (so long as the weather is reasonable) we sleep or stay on deck as it pleases us. At night Maureen turns in and I settle down under the spray hood with a blanket until about 07:00 when Maureen turns out and cooks us a breakfast. She then takes over on watch while I grab a couple of hours sleep. I think my occupation helps me to cope with the irregular hours because I have no difficulty staying awake all night or sleeping when the opportunity presents itself.
On voyages like this I do not bother with accurate navigation, preferring instead to sorting it out when we get within 30 or 40 miles of the coast. Being a ferro boat the compass error varies between 30 degrees west and 25 degrees east so it could be up to 55 degrees out. However, with the use of Burdwood or the ABC tables it presents no real problem.
The passage was uneventful seeing only a few boats and the distant burn offs from oil rigs. Late on the 7th we passed through the largest fishing fleet I have ever seen. I counted the working lights of more than 50 vessels before giving up.
We sighted the Norwegian coast at 08:30 and I established our position using d/f bearings, then made for Flekkfjord. By the late afternoon we started to recognise the headland but by late evening I was a little concerned because I could not identify the entrance to the fjord though I could make out the Lissta Light to the SE. Finally I realised that because the mountains were much larger than life, the gap we were looking for was in front of us, looking about one third the size I had visualised.. |
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flekkfjord |
Had the wind not altered due to the deflection off the mountains, we could have sailed straight in on the self steering.
I think I will always remember that first night in Norway and the run up to the head of the fjord. It was a warm evening and light from the near full moon, houses on shore and small fishing boats all reflected in the water. Everything topped off with the fragrance of the many pine trees cloaking the surrounding mountains. We had no difficulty navigating our way up to the town where we tied up alongside the quay.
Early next morning I was awakened by the sound of many voices and poking my head out through the hatch, I discovered we were alongside a flower market.
Not one for staying in port (as Maureen will testify) we cleared the jetty at 09:30 in pouring rain and a thunder storm. By noon the weather had cleared and we passed through the entrance and shaped a course for Lista Lt.
Outside it was blowing 5/6 with a big sea running and breaking quite heavily. This was due to the three tides that meet in the area but Lobo took it in her stride and once around the light we reefed down and romped away.
We crossed the bay to Manne Fjord and headed for a beautiful anchorage in Blankefjordan for an overnight stop. |
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Nowegian fjord |
We were awoken at 08:30 by a couple of jet fighters screaming overhead at about 200 ft so got away soon after. Outside there was a rare old wind blowing from the SE and with a deep slab reef set (equivalent to 9 rolls) we tramped up the coast at 6 knots, surfing on the big seas. We entered a lagoon with black and red poles everywhere so circled round in tight circles until we sorted it all out. The poles are marked on the charts but are difficult to pick out without a magnifying glass. Once the first pair was established it was plain sailing and I doubt if there is anywhere so close to home that can equal it as a cruising ground. The spring rise and fall is about 12 inches and peaceful anchorages are numerous. Islands with colourful houses from whose gardens people waved to us, snug bays, pine forests and private jetties where I am sure we would have been welcome all passed by as we ran with a F6 on our quarter. The water was flat and what a change to be able to sit in the cockpit in shirt sleeves while Maureen sun bathed on deck. This strength of wind in the Irish Sea or Liverpool Bay would have dictated hard weather gear!
At 16:45 we were moored to a small rock in the harbour at Llilesand. The next morning we motored to the town quay and went ashore to be greeted by a parade of children all singing to a tune played by the school band. The band played the same tune over and over again and were still playing it when we hoisted the large genny and slipped from the quay at noon.
Rounding Lille Torrungen we took the channel to Arendal and round the back of Tromo bringing us to the prettiest village I have ever seen; Naresto. We were the only boat there and had the 60 foot jetty to ourselves. The next day, Sunday, we had a look around but, amazingly, failed to spot a single inhabitant.
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