One of the very great pleasures of cruising is making a plan and then changing it. The freedom to follow ones own program is somehow liberating, if a little disconcerting at times. One evening in Risor we pored over the weather forecasts, discussed visas, sent emails to the brains trust, went through many possibilities and eventually at 1am settled on a new plan.
Watching weather windows for the North Sea crossing change from ‘a nice day out’ to ‘you are going to need a change of underwear’ was weighing heavily on us, when we found what we hope will be an ideal winter hideout for Away in Norway this winter.
We had a call to the marina who noted we were still 300nm away, ‘but thats probably not far if you are Australian’. Agreed, but we need to get our sea boots on and start making some miles between the regular blasts off the North Sea.
We prepared to leave at first light. The solo sailor from the 24ft boat in front of us was having his first beer and lamenting that we didn’t drink enough to make a fair race to Kristiansand. We wonder how his race went. For us the wind was just on the nose by 15 degrees more than our forecast. We motor sailed into a bumpy swell all day to ensure we made good mileage and reached Kristiansand by dark.
We arrived just before dark in a lovely protected bay. We knew the winds were to pick up to gale force from the south west, and so we chose a protected spot. This was confirmed by a local as we docked so that was good. She did however forget to mention to us one important point…
The next morning, we were startled awake by the sounds of crashing dishes and a large 17 tonne aluminium boat cracking the fragile wooden dock. We were being rocked side to side by the massive wake of the passing fast ferry. Wish our local friend had mentioned that before we got comfortable and decided not to wash up that night.
The two of us spent a few minutes catching flying plates and consoling a shocked spaniel. We gathered our senses, got dressed and vowed to get outta there. We couldn’t stay with that level of wake, and we had half a day before the gale was due to arrive. We started the motor and got out of there quickly, before another wake was due to come through – and before coffee. Not a great start.
Settling in to our new passage, we make coffee, and find a couple of options to hide out the wind. Our path would take us to the island of Helgoya where we thought we might be able to tie up. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts inclusive of getting our rudder stuck on a rock, we decided to leave and find somewhere else. Another 10 miles down the way, we find a beautiful anchorage, empty islands, protection from the gale, and a free deep dock to which we could tie up. We spend a few days hiding from the wind in what really is an autumn paradise, with only sheep for company.
After a few days, the winds died down, and we planned to head west along the coast to an anchorage near Egersund. As the day progressed, we experienced the North Sea swells and wind chop. The chop picked up and up as the tide turned against the wind, and before we knew it we were in washing machine conditions with the boat being rocked around. No one was happy, and we realised we were not going to make our anchorage. A quick replan found a sheltered bay for the night. We were greeted by a local who helped us dock in 20 knots of wind. We were tired after the day, but we didn’t want to stay here as it was simply a port for local fishing vessels, and there was the possibility of making further progress.
Despite the wind being on the nose, we headed out with the motor on, and motor sailed all day. Fortunately, the washing machine had run its cycle, and so the waves were a little tamer leaving the bay.
Motor sailing all day, we dodged the lobster pots and fishing boats. Evenutally we arrived on an island called Rott at dusk, where we expected to just spend the evening and get going the next morning. What we did not expect was the amazing warm welcome we received.
Waiting on the dock was one of the locals who welcomed us and helped us tie our lines, and invited us to their community hall for a tour, and a beer.
We chatted all evening, and eventually needed to get back to Away, to eat and prepare for another big sail the next day. If it was earlier in the season, we would have stayed. The island was beautiful, and we have made new friends who we hope to see again. Thank you Rott, it was truly an experience (I hope you are all reading this!).
The next day was our end of season sailing test where we put everything we had learned to the test, or so it seemed. Getting up before dawn to use all the daylight hours we just managed to get the boat off the dock between gusts. There were gust warnings and gales further off the coast but also the promise of fast downwind sailing. We gybe our way through some skerries , eventually leaving the Stavanger area behind us. The rain increases so we navigate the narrow channel near Norheim from the inside whilst avoiding the shipping and still sailing at 7 knots.
We are so close to Hardanger Fjord and dead keen to get there so we decide to keep pushing on, even though it was pouring with rain. We are busy sailing, and dodging tankers, and neglect to listen to the new gale warning out. Perhaps we should have.
Leaving the tankers behind, we reach the last stretch of open ocean that we need to cross before we enter the protection of the Hardanger Fjord. Oh, and that gale…
The waves picked up, and the wind shifts. Its time slot between some rocks and island before gybing towards the fjord. The wind jumps to 35 knots on the beam, the seas become white and foamy. The autopilot is struggling to change direction but when we turn it off we can’t turn the wheel by hand. Fi coolly depowers the sails and starts the engine as the rocks are close, and we turn onto a more comfortable down wind blast into the fjord.
Sailing downwind, the boat responds better in the strong conditions, and we hold on, watching as the fjord comes into view, then out of view again as another squall smashes us. Hold on.
Eventually, eventually… the waves even out. The boat feels better, the fjord is here.
Sailing in, we find another protected anchorage, and happily drop our anchor. The wind here is now 2 knots, as opposed to the 30 knots outside the fjord. Sigh of relief.
Another sleep is had. We toy with the idea of spending the day here, but for our final push to our winter anchorage, the day is forecast to be sunny with no winds, whereas the day after is raining and blowing again.
So that morning, rather exhausted and reluctant, we up anchor and motor into the fjord. We are not disappointed with our decision.
After a day of beautiful views of snow capped mountains, we are reminded its autumn again. With 30 minutes until we arrive into Norheimsund, our winter berth, the wind increases from 2 knots to over 35 knots. Nervous about docking in these conditions, we cross our fingers that the marina is indeed as protected as they say.
As we get to the marina, breathing a BIG sigh of relief, we see that it is very protected. Its flat calm water and only a breath of wind. We are amazed at how quickly the conditions change in the fjord.
We tie up, and chat with a local who helped us in. High fives all round and Bernie is already off running and making mischief. All ready to pack up, the weather decided to give us one last challenge, and again 30 knots smashed down the bay, straight into the back of Away. Fortunately, our docking lines were secure, and we just had to try to put up the bimni in 30 knots. Not that easy, but all done, mostly dry, and we opened a bottle of wine and finally, we were home for the winter.
We have other plans for this winter. But for now, we are going to enjoy the beautiful town of Norheimsund, relax and prepare the boat for snow.
