We blogged about our trip from Bodø out the Lofoton Islands but we neglected so say that we are now the most famous Australian cruisers in Norway!
We picked up Ro in Bodø and sailed off the coast to a tiny island that was home to a few summer houses. When we arrived Ro and Adrian braved the inclement conditions and headed ashore for an explore. We headed over boggy ground along a sort of path that led uncomfortably through the ‘garden’ of the first house we came to. Its not really summer enough for summer houses in this part of the world, so we were surprised when a jovial woman in a Norwegian jumper appeared from the house and started speaking Norwegian to us.
We exchanged the usual ‘we don’t speak Norwegian’ and ‘I only speak English a little’. We explained we were Australians from the boat anchored in the bay and not too sure if we were on the correct track. She said she knew we had come from Australia and picked the boat up in France and sailed to Norway as she had read about us in the paper (note she still assumed we spoke Norwegian). She had been expecting a beautiful woman and neurotic spaniel, so we explained that Ro was visiting from Australia and Fi and Bernie had stayed on the boat. It seems that the news article written about us in Risør has been published more widely than we thought. We are now recognised in even in the remotest corners of Norway.
In Norway, every town has a claim to fame: ‘the gateway to the arctic’, ‘the western most full time inhabited town’, ‘the southern most partially inhabited town in the north of the southern most district in arctic Norway’. To fit in we have, with some justification, decided that we are ‘The most famous Australians cruising Norway’.
Our heater had broken, so the whole way from somewhere where it broke (can’t remember but it was out for over a week) to Bodø we had to either be plugged into power, or run the generator each afternoon. We really wanted our diesel heater back. Thinking Bodø would be a great place to do this, we spent our first day there wandering from boat service place to boat service place asking if they did Webasto. No, everyone has an Eberspaecher here, but try the car service place. And sure enough, a quick phone call and our part was ordered. One problem solved, now we needed to install it.
But not before picking up our brand new autopilot (read crew) – Adrian’s brother Rohan!
Excited to share our journey, we first up take him straight from his overnight train from Oslo, to the car servicing place to pick up our heater part, then spend the next 6 hours stuck in the depths of the stern trying to figure out how to get all the pieces of the broken part out of the heater. Ro was relaxed about it all, and took the opportunity to unpack and take the edge off the jetlag from his big trip from Brisbane in Australia.
The sensor in the heater had basically disintegrated, but also welded itself inside the heater. Ro and Fi take time out to provision while Adrian swears at the heater for a while. After a few more hours, and some, shall we say, encouragement, the bits and pieces of the broken sensor finally let go, and we can fit the new sensor and hold our breath as the heater starts, and makes all the right noises again. Right, we can go. Whilst its late Spring here in north Norway, its cold.
The next day, we do some tidying up and secure the boat ready for sailing. We only planned to go 5 miles to an island called Landegode. Due to the light winds, we potter along at 3 knots and it takes us a couple of hours. Its a good light intro to sailing Away, and we anchor up for the night, to enjoy the katabatic winds in the anchorage.
Ro and Adrian brave the weather and go for an explore onshore after we anchor. Fi takes the opportunity for a quick and much needed nap after all that sailing.
The next day, Fi and Adrian plan for a more lively sail, aiming for Røst at the very south of the Lofoten Islands. Alas, the winds had other plans, and after some bumpy upwind sailing, we decide that perhaps Å, a little further north would be nice, plus the sailing would get more comfortable.
The winds are good, and we have 1 reef in the main and the full genoa out most of the time, except when it really picked up and the staysail came out.
Usually, you can see the islands already, however the day is grey and cloudy.
As the day passes by, we keep thinking we see glimpses of something peeking through the low clouds. Eventually, the snowcapped mountains of Lofoten show their faces and welcome us in.
Eventually, the small fishing village of Å comes into view. Unfortunately, when we arrive, we see that the guest pier has been removed, and there was no where for Away to go, so a quick replan results in a short trip around the corner to Sørvågen.
This is the first of many encounters with the drying stockfish here in Lofoten. They are not salted or cured, rather the fish are cleaned and hung up to dry and the climate takes care of the rest. The perfect temperatures, bit of snow, sun, rain and wind make for perfectly dried fish.
We decide the next day to take a hike. We walk past some puppies (sorry no photos) and up to the first lake, where we take some trail head, and then another trail head, up through some bush bashing to eventually get to the actual trail head and trail up to the next lake, and the next, and then a hill.
What a stunning walk. However as with all these adventures, we need to move on. We plan that evening a trip a few miles east to a town called Reine. We leave the next morning at a reasonable time.
Adrian predicted that once the Arctic circle was entered, the waters would be teeming with life, and sure enough, we see seals, orcas and whales as we sail to Reine.
Reine has been a trading village since 1793 and about 300 people currently live here. We can see the popular mountain of Reinebringen as we sail towards the coastline. We dock Away at Reine, and begin to plan our next adventures which will of course involve a good hike up Reinebringen.
The next day we pack up the backpacks, and the dog, and begin the ascent up Reinebringen. Sherpas have built these stairs to make it easier and safer for hikers as there were a few accidents with rock falls previously. It is good money for the Sherpas, and Norway gets good stairs. 1,978 in this case to be precise.
We reach what appears to be almost the top, and Adrian taps out. No more exposure for him. Ro asks Fi – further up? Fi says “YES!” so off we go, unempathetically leaving Adrian to his heights issues.
We wander back into town, and find more drying stockfish and reflect on our journey up the mountain. We also have a delicious meal at the local restaurant of whale ceviche and cod tongues.
The next day, we plan to head off to an anchorage and hoping for less katabatic winds this time. We find one anchorage, but there were 2 boats already anchored and therefore = FULL. So we motor around to our second choice which was empty and we drop anchor in Straumøya.
It was a beautiful spot to stop and Adrian and Ro take the opportunity to go for another walk in the hills before dinner (which was roast chicken and potatoes – on anchor – thank you massive battery bank and induction cooking).
But after a good sleep, we knew that more adventures could be had, so Fi weighed anchor, pulling off 10kgs of kelp as she went, and we headed out to a town called Ballstad. If there was going to be no wind, perhaps we could camp somewhere?
Absolutely there could be camping! But not before we make our newest crew member do the docking in Ballstad.
Safely docked, and Away’s deepest cupboards raided for the camping gear, we loaded up and headed out for a hike and some sleeping in the hills. Fi laments not having purchased the doggy backpack so Bernie could be of use.
At our beautiful spot for the evening, it was a little windy, but not so bad, but it did bring the chill with it. We collect snow for water and spend some time filtering it, before cooking our soup and freeze dried meals. We’re super happy to have such a comfortable and spectacular spot.
The next morning, Bernie asks politely for Fi to get up so that we can eat, and then go for another hike down the hill to town. It is Norwegian National Day so there are celebrations to watch including a parade, and children throwing things at cans.
We get to town, and walk and walk trying to catch up to the parade who seemed to be getting further and further in front of us. No matter, we eventually found them at the local school and admired the traditional dress of the area, and ate a hot dog and cake.
National Day or Constitution Day celebrates the signing of the constitution on the 17th of May 1814, declaring Norway to be an independent kingdom. It is typically centred around the children, and the local school will organise a march and music and food. This day also represents an opportunity for people to wear the traditional dress of the area in Norway where they live.
Back to the boat, we needed to “decamp” ourselves, so showers were had, unpacking and drying gear was done, a cup of tea and a bit of a sit and chat. And planning, there is always planning. The next day we would brave the wobbly waves for Henningsvær, another cute fishing village.
Off we go! 20-25 knots on a broad reach and we get 9 knots of speed, averaging about 7. We hand steer as the waves keep spinning us as the autopilot can’t keep up. We do this for a few hours, before bravely dropping sail in the swell, and turning into port.
Tied up safely at the dock, we take a breath as it was pretty rolly out there. Our neighbour asks how it was, and agreed that it would have been rolly. The harbour is surrounded by old fisherman’s cabins come restaurants, shops and galleries. It is also home to an interesting football field right on the water.
Fi manages to find a nice restaurant and sauna, so we partake in both. Finally, we are VIKINGS as we brave the less than 5 degree celsius water to cool off during the hot hot sauna. After sauna, its a fish dinner and a great sleep. So Viking. As an addendum to this, we replace our transducer and it is telling us the water is -1 degree celcius – hmmmm.
After a breakfast of the best cinnamon buns in Lofoten, it is here that Ro is no longer Away. He heads off into the grey gloom for more adventures traveling home to Brisbane. Away is now just the 3 of us, planning for some more adventures and hoping for some more wild camping. Having Ro on board has inspired us!
We had enjoyed some time in the fjords, but now we needed to push north to Bodø where we were meeting our new crew member.
We left Geiranger and were soon scooting north inside the skerries trying our best to dodge the snow and sleet showers.
Our favourite Norwegian website that showed detailed information about expected wave heights, promised more boisterous conditions between the skerries and a little cross wave excitement before getting into our next harbour. We weren’t disappointed, and in increasingly uncomfortable wave conditions we altered course and scurried in behind some skerries for protection. There was no protection for the last short open water dash to the harbour at Bud, but the waves were more comfortable all being from one direction.
We left Bud and wriggled through some skerries before heading out to open water and sailing up the coast passing the active port of Kristiansund and arriving at our quiet island anchorage.
The next day we motor sailed north until the wind filled in. A luxury cruise boat heading for the Russian border passed by, and then all of a sudden a ferry popped out of a nearby harbour, the captain set a collision course with us and then went below for a nice cup of tea.
We passed a coast guard vessel loitering in a bay reminiscent of the highway patrol cars we see in Australia beside the road waiting for speeding motorists. We were doing 8 knots but hadn’t seen any speed restrictions so we were surprised when it pulled out and followed us. It eventually caught and passed us and gave us a friendly wave.
A short distance ahead the Coast Guard vessel stopped, turned side on and Fi joked that they were going to board us. Sure enough, out came the RIB and a friendly young man requested to board us. As well as giving Bernie a scratch he had also asked to look at our passports. He noted he was out of his depth as he had never seen an Australian passport or temporary residency card before, but Bernie was chuffed to have a visitor mid passage and took the opportunity to do a massive poo and 2 wee wees at the bow.
It took a few phone calls to local authorities until we found the right person to confirm our legal status in Norway.
We found a sheltered little harbour called Revsnes which seemed ideal to sit out some stronger winds. The presence of a selection of large cruising boats showed it was a popular wintering location for cruisers. The next day we rested, chatted to our neighbouring Amel Super Maramu, and sniffed around the dock for bits of crab and fresh seagull poop.
The wind gods were on our side again and we had an easy sail north to the tiny harbour of Vingsand. About 9pm we were surprised to see another yacht entering the harbour which, apart from the mad Australians, was home to a small fleet of fishing and pleasure craft. Even more surprising we recognised the yacht as one that had arrived in Geiranger as we were leaving. A little snooping uncovered it was a Polish yacht named ‘Freyr’ that offered passages onboard.
When we left the next morning we noted Freyr were half an hour behind us, so it was clearly a race. Today we squeezed out from the wave protection of the skerries and into oceans swells. It was a little unnerving at first as the swells pilled up on the shelving sea bed near the skerries, and then equally delightful as Away stretched out on a long reach up the coast with constant wind speed and direction for a change.
Approaching Rørvik the channel narrowed and the shipping obeyed the first law of maritime engagement: a tanker approached from behind, a cargo vessel altered course to collide with us, and a tug decided to overtake all three vessels as a large fishing boat came the other way.
Rørvik was an ideal overnight stop and the next morning we were Away. Freyr, who had arrived later in the previous evening, were a little late to the start. We headed out to sea to get a reaching angle up the coast and we soon travelling over 7 knots in a one sided contest. A navy frigate passed going in the other direction but seemed to have got the message about our passports being ok.
We were headed for the famous mountain with a hole in it: Torghatten.
The next day Freyr arrived as we booted up and headed for the famous hole.
We leave with Freyr and head north. They stop for the night at the bright lights of Brønnøysund and the hardened Away team tack north in a freshening evening breeze towards Forvik.
The next day had motoring winds and puttered north on dead calm seas passing the seven sisters.
The day ended at the little marina at Herøy.
Herøy had a flower shop on the other side of the island. The mighty Bromptons were pressed into service for a lovely ride to the most eclectic ‘flower shop’ we have ever visited. Inside little staircases led to balconies with arm chairs, or down to a grotto filled with candles passing sculptures, wall hangings, plants and ornaments.
With little wind we left Herøy and motored another 20 miles north to Tomma for the night. We later read the entry in our second cruising guide which warned of somewhat limited draft next to the floating dock. Bemused fisher folk watched in wide eyed bemusement as 17 tons of black post modern aluminium silently crossed the bay, navigated the perilously shallow water and tied up to the dock. For some reason they didn’t help us dock.
Leaving Tomma we knew that a good following wind and almost unlimited daylight meant Bodø was an achievable target for the day. But first we made a special detour to pass the stunning Arctic circle monument. Reaching the arctic circle had crept on us. It was never a goal, but it seems if you keep raising the sails and pointing north you will eventually pass this imaginary line.
The freshening wind was behind us and the daylight showing no signs of decline so we pushed on toward Bodø. Two hours from Bodø the wind jumps from 20-25 knots to 35 knots and a little reefing was required to keep things under control. We almost make it into Bodø when the wind dropped off and we motored the last hour into the dock.
At Bodø we recover from the long trip north, search for parts for the heater and keep an eye out for our new crew member.
Geiranger, the UNSECO protected, waterfall adorned, cruise ship visited fjord was calling.
We left the lovely island of Sandsøyaon a still morning, and motored into the Storfjorden, and onward towards Geiranger Fjord. An overnight stop at Ikornnes promised hot tubs and cafes, but delivered neither. The mad Australians were on the first cruising boat of the year and the soon-to-become-familiar older chap appeared and moved a water hose onto the dock and checked there was still power available for us. Hot tubs and cafes would remain a luxury to look forward to in the much anticipated ‘season’.
The next day we motored into a crisp windless morning, that became a troll breathing howling head wind and promptly returned to a windless meander. We noted that Stranda was the last real supply center before entering Geiranger. We made a slow pass of the dock and Fi took a giant leap for the Away crew onto the dock and completed a quick restock before we started the final leg into Geiranger.
After motoring all day, with one failed attempt at sailing, we arrived in Geiranger in the evening. Marveling at the massive cruise ship buoys, we were hoping, given how close they were to the dock, that the ships wouldn’t be visiting anytime soon.
With perfect weather in Geiranger, we decided to stay for a few days, and enjoy the local hikes.
First activity was a hike to a waterfall where you can walk behind the falling water, after ascending the steps built by Sherpas from Nepal. We found out that a lot of steps had been placed in Norway by Sherpas with their amazing ability to traverse heights, and carry incredibly heavy things. Being employed in Norway provides the Sherpas with a much higher income than in Nepal, and Norway get safer hikes for their tourists. Win, win. So up the stairs we climb, until we inevitably arrive at the snow line.
The waterfall, much like the waterfall in Flam, didn’t have a lot of water falling this time of year, so we sat and enjoyed some snacks, and made the trek back down. Oh and back to the little cafe with the yummy pizzas and soup.
After a day of relaxing, cleaning and doing boat jobs, we decided to tackle another of the famous hikes in the area. It involved us getting in the dingy with the big engine on, and blurting around the corner of the fjord to a small dock cut into the rock. From here it was a basically vertical hike up to the farm perched on the side of the fjord called Skageflå. Its a beautiful farm, and used to be the most profitable in the area. Now it has been restored to reflect its hey day.
Navigating down carefully with Bernie, we get back to our dingy and check out this waterfall of course.
We’d heard from one of our followers that we should be careful of the rock falls around Geiranger. Upon further investigation, we discovered that the worlds most monitored mountain face is in the fjord, as it is threatening to collapse, fall into the fjord and create a devasting 80m tsunami that would obliterate the local towns, including Geiranger where we were ‘safely’ tied up. This last happened in 1934 when a rock fall caused a 60m high wave that killed 40 people. So naturally, we decided to watch the Norwegian disaster movie called “The Wave” that dramatised a future rock fall event, just to freak ourselves out.
The next day, we chose to leave the fjord, and went past the threatening mountain face of Åkerneset and marveled at the number of monitoring stations on the side.
Our overnight stop, Stordal, famous for its furniture industry was closed in preparation for the forthcoming Easter break. Google claimed the residents were all at their ski lodges reading mystery novels, so after a quiet evening we headed on to Ålesund.
Arriving in Ålesund in the evening, after the odd sleet storm, we were excited to explore this beautiful city.
The place was burned down in the early 1900s and has been rebuilt in Art Deco style and it shows. Its a lovely town and we enjoyed a walk up the local hill with two million people from a couple of cruise ships in port to get some spectacular views across the sea.
We met the amazing team from “In The Same Boat”, a wonderful organisation that clears rubbish from the coast line of Norway (https://www.inthesameboat.eco/). You can volunteer on their sailboats and help to clear the worlds oceans of plastic. We were inspired, and at our first stop out of Ålesund we picked up a bunch of plastic, and notified them of the littered beach so they can go there with their team and do a more thorough job than we had time to do.
Our last night in Ålesund, we went out for a lovely dinner at one of the local hotels and watched the snow dump down from the roof top restaurant, and then clear to reveal the beautiful coast.
Next time we start the push north towards Bodø, the arctic, and our new crew member.
Flåm is famous for its railway. Its one of the most picturesque train trips in the world, according to someone. They were right! It effortlessly climbed through steep mountain scenery, did a U turn inside a mountain and arrived on time to meet the Oslo-Bergen train at the top. You can return to the bottom by foot, mountain bike, skis or as we did, ride the train back down.
The next day some people turned up in a boat even bigger than ours. We decided to leave our new neighbours to the quay and walked up the valley to the Flåm church.
The next day the forecast suggested the trolls would be blowing a hooley down the fjord. It was overcast when we left and the trolls were still sleeping.
We didn’t have to wait too long before they woke and we soon had winds gusting the ususal 8 to 25+ knots. Later in the day we even saw an instant 130 degree wind shift just to keep the sailing fun. We made it over 70 miles almost to the mouth of the fjord by evening.
Out of the fjord and heading north, our next stop was the busy centre of Florø.
Florø was still emerging from its winter season into the sunshine, so after a two night stop we were off again. We did take the opportunity to walk up the hill and around the island.
Our next stop was Kalvåg, because several people had mentioned a nice restaurant there, and that it was the most popular spot on the west coast for cruisers. I guess the cruisers hadn’t yet emerged from winter as we were the only people there. As we came in, a fisherman in a run about (really) came near us shouting in Norwegian and gesturing to the harbour berths near the restaurant. After shouting “Australian”, English was engaged, and we were advised that we could park in the marina at the side of the restaurant. The wonderful fellow (who we would later learn owns the place) helped us with our lines, told us about the restaurant and where the local facilities were, and we were in! Ready for some seafood.
Entering the restaurant, we were met by the fisherman, now hotel owner, and enjoyed some food and wine. He introduced us to the chief of Norway Football who was in Sydney when Norway won soccer Olympic gold. The next night an Everest climber and reality TV star was giving a talk… it was that sort of place. We were told about the history. It started as a fishing village with up to 12,000 fishermen coming and going, and 6 women (poor ladies). The owner purchased the land from his brother, and built up the restaurant, hotel and other houses to turn it into a tourist mecca. It was delightful and we were treated to breakfast the next morning on the house. We’d love to come back. The hospitality here was second to none and everyone was so friendly. We understand why it is so popular. And the food was delicious.
However, the notorious Stad was calling us. Stadlandet is a headland on the west coast that sticks out into the North Sea and there is no choice but to head out into the cross currents, washing machine waves and shallower waters to get around it. Some sailors say they would prefer to round Cape Horn than Stad, so we were feeling a bit apprehensive about our crossing. It is so bad, that Norway are planning to build a tunnel for ships, yachts and other boats through the headland so that people don’t have to go around. A massive undertaking and speaks to how bad of a reputation the crossing has.
Our Stad jump off was to be a small island called Selja. It has an ancient monastery in honour of Norway’s only female Saint “Saint Sunniva”. She is the patron saint of Bergen, and it is believed that her remains were found in the cave above the monastery, and she was basically completely preserved. She was hiding there from some attackers, and it is said that “the heavens” caused a rock fall, trapping her and her companions inside the cave, but safe from the attackers. But then they were trapped anyway and died. But her body was preserved – therefore, saint. The monastery was established around 1060.
As the sun went down we said an appropriate number of prayers for safe passage the next day. The gods must have been listening as we were blessed with calm seas, or perhaps it was the hours of analysing weather, wave and current data, researching peoples blogs and talking to locals to ensure the best conditions to make the passage.
We motored most of the day, and found a great harbour just north of the headland, protected from the non existed swells to tie up for the evening. The island of Sandsøya was to be our home for the next 2 evenings as we pondered what to do after tackling this horrendous crossing. We had been so focused on the crossing that we had neglected to properly plan the coming days, but that’s easily solved with our charts, guide books and 30 minutes.
We headed off to find a treasure cave. Adrian contrived a route to climb over a mountain to get there.
Next morning we headed off in search of another fjord.
Away looks slightly out of place amongst the motor boats, office blocks and city dwellers. We had our fill of bright lights and city sounds and were happy to loosen the lines and slip out of Bergen weaving between commuter ferries and tourist trips promising waterfalls, fjords and trolls to I-love-Norway beanied tourists.
The islands around Bergen gradually become more sparsely populated.
Our anchorage required a left turn from a narrow channel into a narrower channel leading to narrower squeeze into the anchorage. The anchorage could not have contrasted more with the noise of Bergen.
The next day our route was mostly decided by the height of the bridges between islands. We saw current of over 3 knots at some narrow points, fortunately heading the same way we were. When the channels opened up, we meandered along with a lazy headsail.
We have a weakness for restaurants with a harbour and this one is famous for its fish soup… what more could we ask for? They had opened a couple of days before at the start of April. It seems the season is starting, but its still very quiet.
The landscape changed as we turned into Sognefjord. The sides of the fjord grew steeper and snow capped.
After a brief search for an anchorage (what were we thinking…this is a fjord), we headed across the fjord for shelter in Leirvik. There are two depths in the fjord unfathomable and more unfathomable. In some places the depths are charted at over a kilometer deep which reduces the crab pot hazard. It also makes anchoring possibilities more scarce, and in deed anchoring is known locally as ‘tying up’.
Leaving the tranquility of Leirvik we were quickly met by 25+ knot headwinds. The wind in the fjord is governed mostly by trolls who sit at the head of the fjord and try to blow sailors away. When they blow it can be over 30 knots, but between breaths it often stops altogether. The wind only comes in one direction, down the fjord. Even when the fjord changes direction 90 degrees, so does the wind. This makes fjord sailing simple, its either upwind, or downwind, with none of those confusing in-between points of sail.
Our perseverance against the wind was rewarded by an evening in beautiful Hoyanger.
The next day the trolls were at it again, but we were determined to reach Flam at the head of the Fjord.
Finally the trolls gave in or got bored, the wind abated and we motored the last section in to Flam.
We tried to stop at Undredal for their world famous goats cheese, but aborted when we saw the modest size of the dock and headed for Flam. Flam looked like a quiet town at the end of the fjord, but the cruise ship moorings suggested a different story.
Norheimsund disappeared around the corner and we headed back along the Hardanger fjord towards the sea. The wind picked up and we considered sailing for long enough for the wind to die, pick up from the opposite direction, die again and then blow from a third direction. A typical day sailing on the fjord. We motored.
We found a sheltered spot at the end of an island with an appropriate view to wake up to and tried to remember how to live on anchor again.
We stopped at the little town of Uskedal the next day for some exercise and lunch.
Someone who had attended our talk, noticed us on AIS and emailed to suggest we look at the marks on the rock gouged out by glacier activity. They may not be too clear in the photo but there were deep horizontal gouges in the rock.
Our next anchorage had just enough room to swing around comfortably and some good shelter. In the morning we went ashore to exercise and collect ticks (thankfully just Bernie). While we practiced our downward dog, Bernie practiced his mad spaniel pulling up grass.
We motored around the islands to get closer to Bergen and found another empty anchorage on an island. It looks like it might get busy in summer but we met only one family who recommended a route for us to walk around the island. Bernie was very pleased. The houses on the island range from tiny ancient huts to modern houses mostly serving as summer houses for Bergenites. There were no signs and limited paths but after several side trips and some help from satellite pictures we arrived back at the harbour.
The next day we sailed and motored passed Bergen and into the yard to be hauled out. We rafted up with some of the brand new motor boats that they build in the yard. A light dusting of snow the next morning reminded us why there aren’t too many cruising boats around this time of year.
We headed into Bergen for a few days while the boat was cleaned, anti fouled and serviced. It was a good break off the boat and a chance to look around and go the chandlery of course.
After safely re launching we took Away across to Bergen harbour to reprovision before heading north.
We had been warned that more people bring their boats in to party on Friday and Saturday. An armada of white runabouts descended on the dock area to meet friends and enjoy the local restaurants. A sleek black boat docked opposite us at dusk. It turned out to be a floating speaker that rattled and vibrated to the thump of dance music from late at night till after nine am.
Next we head north to quieter anchorages to recover from the excitement of Bergen.
Since returning from our trip to the UK we’ve been planning for our 2023 cruising and getting Away ready for some arctic water sailing.
Winter has sure settled in here in Norheimsund and we are getting used to the boat being covered in snow and ice, and walking through the various tracks using crampons on our shoes. Bernie has had his first experience in proper powder snow and went mad running and running around.
We’ve been completing a few boat jobs, like setting up the dingy, installing more hooks (I love hooks), installing some plant shelves (I love plants) and doing general maintenance and tidy up.
Seeing some fantastic weather on the horizon, we plan to explore a little of the Hardanger Fjord. We had heard the arm of the Fjord just north from us was a beautiful town called Botnen that has only 3 permanent inhabitants and is a stunning example of remote Norwegian scenery. So one day, we stocked up with fuel and food and headed out into the sunshine.
Arriving in Botnen the reflections in the completely still fjord were epic.
We spent 2 nights here and managed some walking into the hills with Bernie.
We noted that we still had a few days of calm still sunny weather and headed further in the fjord to Ulvik and town recommended to us with great mountain scenery.
There was too much ice to reach Ulvik nestled amongst the mountains but we enjoyed the sunset as we headed back to Kinsarvik in the main fjord.
Bernie decided a big walk was in order so we followed the ‘waterfall’ track from Kinsarvik. We climbed up beside a hydro electric pipe to an icy monotone landscape. Bernie tried the thin ice at the top of the waterfall and ‘enjoyed’ some on lead time while near the water after that.
There was plenty of dramatic landscapes as we headed back to our sheltered corner of the fjord in Norheimsund. The depth is mostly too great for our depth sounder to register a reading, but occasionally it showed just a few meters depth in the middle of the fjord. We weren’t able to determine if it was a passing orca, layers of fresh water or a stray russian submarine.
The local sailing club invited us to give a talk about our adventures at their meeting. It was so popular that we sold out the first venue and had to be upgraded to the local school classroom! We had spent the previous couple of weeks discussing together what in the world Norwegian sailors would want to hear from us! We figured pictures and stories of white sand beaches, sunshine and turquoise water were a welcome distraction from the winter weather and so we regaled them about our trip up the Australian East Coast in Addictive. Naturally we also added sufficient detail about Away, and a few of our adventures in Europe which resulted in a number of new visitors to Away over the coming days! So much social! Out of all the people listening to us, the only clearly bored person was the 10 year old who took to climbing on her Mum, so we were happy to have been entertaining.
It was finally time to break the winter inertia and start heading up the coast. The first stop is Bergen to clean Away’s bottom and stock up with fresh coffee beans.
Much like our trip over to the UK back in November, we have booked various ferries, trains and cars to get us back to Away in Norheimsund in Norway. Its getting too warm in the UK now.
We left the Squire one cloudy day in a hire car and drove to Bristol to our friends place. Bernie was deposited in one of the local doggy hotels, as we don’t enjoy him frightening our friends beautiful ginger cats. Plus, we wanted to go to Paris!
One enjoyable evening with friends was followed the next day with a tiny packed bag, and the cheapest flight we could find to Paris from Bristol.
What happens in Paris stays in Paris. We’ve been there a number of times now and just enjoy the city.
Unfortunately, due to the industrial action in France protesting the raising of the retirement age, our flight home was cancelled. Quick re-planning resulted in us jumping on the Eurostar to London, calling the doggy hotel and begging them to keep Bernie for a few more days because not only were there strikes in France, there were also strikes in the UK and we had no way of picking him up.
The London hotel we stay in is extremely doggy friendly and they were so excited we were coming back with Bernie that when we turned up without him there were some disappointed faces. We were assured that we were still allowed to stay without him. As it were, we had a glorious few days in London sans dog, and caught up with some wonderful friends, had lovely dinners out and saw a couple of shows on the West End. Delightful!
The day had come to retrieve Bernie and the rest of our luggage. We had been making do with just our clothes for an overnighter in Paris, washing things in sinks by this point. Train to Bristol and our wonderful Sommerset friends ferried us to get our luggage, and then get Bernie, and then get back to the train station in record time! We made it back to the hotel, and settled Bernie in, much to the delight of the staff who gave him loads of pats and scratches.
The following day was our last day in the UK. We took Bernie to the vets to get his tapeworm tablet for Norway. This means he has 5 days to arrive in Norway from the time he is given the tablet. After a good dog walk and some chores, we packed up and were picked up in a car to be ferried out to our ferry at Harwich. The strikes were still on, so no trains for us.
Overnight ferry to the Hook of Holland, and alas, we were advised that our Holland to Norway ferry was cancelled! Refund pending, we had to re-plan how to get us and the dog back to Norway before the 5 day limit on Bernie’s worming tablet ran out. We research and research, and find that we can spend 15 hours on dog friendly trains from the Hook of Holland to Copenhagen, where we can catch another overnight dog friendly ferry to Oslo, and then a dog friendly train to Bergen and a dog friendly bus back to the boat. It was A LOT of travel and moving with a dog and 4 heavy bags, but we managed it, and found a great dog friendly hotel in Copenhagen for the night ready for our ferry to Oslo the next day.
Arriving after 9:30 pm at the hotel we search for food and find the most amazing Middle Eastern food with garlic so strong we could taste it for several days. This is Copenhagen after all.
We had decided to spend a couple of days in Oslo as it is unlikely that we would sail there. Away is already north of Oslo. We enjoy some great food, and some long walks to the palace to watch the changing of the guard and also to The Vigeland Park where the artist Gustav Vigeland has his works on display. It was all so dramatic in the snow.
It was then time to take the train from Oslo towards Bergen. This stretch of railway is extremely picturesque, and an offshoot of this railway is the Flam Railway which is rated one of the most picturesque in the world. It did not disappoint!
After a few hours, we arrived in a town called Voss, hoped on the bus and we were finally home! After 3 months away, we had a few jobs to do to get the boat warmed up and into a home again.
We are now working on getting the boat ready for the new season, and settling into life in the snow, and then the rain, and then the snow.
Perhaps you remember from our last blog, we arrived in England and welcomed to the Fi and Adrian Sailing family a narrowboat called “The Squire”. This was to be our home for the 2 months over December 2022 and January 2023. Last year we spent the same time period on another narrowboat called “The Earl” and Bernie loved it so much, we wanted to give him the same experience again. Plus for us, its a nice break from sailing, but still presents lots of opportunities for adventures.
We began our trip unpacking and settling in to the boat, getting to know the ins and outs and making friends with it. We started at a stretch of canal near Fenny Compton in the middle of England.
Time to push off! We have to reverse up to the winding hole (a large space dotted along the canals where these long boats can turn around) which presented its own challenges as the first maneuver of the trip. All done though and we were on our way north. Quickly reaching Napton on the Hill, we make a left turn on to the Grand Union Canal bound for Birmingham. The Grand Union links Birmingham and London and was a busy canal in its day, shipping all manner of goods and fuel between these two cities.
We are reminded fairly quickly that this section of the Grand Union has been built to accommodate wide beam boats, and therefore have double width locks. Our skills from the previous year were quickly brought to the fore, and Adrian was navigating into the large locks with me only needing to open 1 of the gates on either side. Phew! The lock doors can be upwards of 3 tonnes so I was happy to not have to open 4 doors every time. We navigate towards Long Itchington, and enjoy the scenery, locks and the local watering holes.
After a few days of this pattern, we find ourselves in Royal Leamington Spa. I used to have to go to work here on occasion so it was nice to see it from a different perspective, and also discover some fantastic places to provision, and enjoy a hearty English breakfast.
By this time we had completed the Calcutt locks (3 locks), the Stockton lock flight (8 locks), the Bascote locks and a number of others, totaling 25. We had achieved this over the best part of a week, and were feeling prepared to tackle the famous (infamous) Hatton Lock flight. The Hatton Lock flight rises narrowboats up 45m in less than 2 miles and consists of 21 locks. Its grueling work, and was not made easy for us as we buddied up with a single handed narrowboater (so it was a little slower) and every single lock was set against us. Plus we started at about 2pm.
Into the afternoon we went, setting the locks, driving the boats in, closing gates, filling up the locks, on to the next. The snow had settled on the ground and so the towpath and lock gates were slippery to walk on, the dog enjoyed running away from time to time and the night rolled on in. Granted the night time here is about 4PM. Onwards we went, up and up and up and the hours passed by. Every time we finished a lock, it seemed another came out of the gloom. It felt like it was never going to end. They call this flight the stairway to heaven as it is so arduous. Eventually, after running backwards and forwards, setting and resetting locks, grinding paddles, opening and closing closing 3 tonne gates, we reached the top at about 7:30pm. It was dark, we were exhausted, and we closed up the Squire, stoked up the fireplace and settled in for a beer, and a pre made meal heated up in the oven. We’d made in total about 2.5 miles that day and expended all our energy! We planned to explore the area the following day, rather than go and tackle another section of canal.
We weren’t disappointed! The area around the locks is gorgeous, and there is a cute cafe and a pub. Happy.
Onwards towards Birmingham however, and we find ourselves cracking through ice all of a sudden. Arriving in the area of Solihull, we find a few more wonderful English pubs, some good places to provision and stunning countryside.
The ice seemed to be getting thicker. The day we left to head into Birmingham, we were cracking through inch thick plates of ice. It is loud and it is hard to steer as the ice pushes the boat around to wherever it has split. We manage this by having 1 person steer, and the other person at the front running from side to side getting the boat to rock to crack the ice relatively evenly. Soon we find the stunning English countryside being replaced by industrial buildings, graffiti, and a lot of litter that speaks to the nightly recreational activities in this less than salubrious area of outer Birmingham.
Dog safely locked inside so he didn’t accidentally get stabbed with a syringe, or eat some human poo, we navigated through the 25 locks that would get us to the centre of Birmingham. This was not without a stop in a VERY brightly lit (read safe) area next to one of the universities here for a sleep overnight one evening.
The locks into Birmingham took us under huge bridges and under buildings and certainly had the air of Peaky Blinders. We saw deals being done, smelled the local relief points, and skipped over broken glass and drug paraphernalia. Eventually, the muck and darkness made way to more gentrified buildings and a cute towpath leading to the top of the locks and the centre. Gas Street Basin is the famous centre of canals in Birmingham, and would be our stop over for a few days. And then a few more days, as the ice got thicker and thicker.
After about a week, the temperatures has risen enough for the ice to again be navigable, and we said goodbye to Birmingham, keen to have some “field” time. For Christmas, we are heading for Stratford Upon Avon to explore, restock, and appreciate the countryside after so much city time.
Heading south, we find ourselves on the Stratford Upon Avon canal. A beautiful stretch of canal winding its way through the countryside, dotted with locks here and there, but nothing as massive as those Hatton Locks. We enjoy time moored in fields, and eventually end up just outside Stratford Upon Avon.
It is Christmas eve, so we quickly find ourselves a lovely pub for lunch, and also head to Waitrose for our turkey and Christmas trimmings. We stop off at Will’s birthplace and have a great wander around town. It would be great to spend a little more time here outside of the holiday season, however we need to get going back towards where we started as the winter closures would mean we would be stuck here, so Christmas day comes, we cast off the mooring lines and head out of Stratford.
Christmas dinner is cooked while moored up in a quiet field, and we plan how to get out and through the Hatton Locks again before the closures in a few days.
We didn’t get too far before we found the canal was empty making it hard to navigate. Some investigation showed the paddles at both ends of the lock were slightly open allowing the water to drain. It took a couple of hours to let enough water through from a large pound a few locks above and we were on our way again.
Retracing our steps, we find ourselves at our turn off point. Adrian navigates the Squire through a 7ft hole in someone’s garden, which leads out of the Stratford Upon Avon Canal to the Grand Union Canal and eventually, that huge Hatton Lock flight. Would I have come up the Hatton Lock flight if I knew what it was like, and that we would have to also come back down it, yes probably. Its a great workout. This time however, we mean business and start the locks at a reasonable time in the morning, and even manage to enlist the help of one of our local friends who came along and opened the last 5 or so locks for us (of 21). We felt like professionals at this point! We were done and dusted mid afternoon, and enjoyed a little wander around Warwick with our friend, and naturally had a few beers at the pub.
BUT – we are still not past the closures. We are on track though, and the next day after a bit of a sleep in, we head on through the next dozen or so locks towards Royal Leamington Spa and past the closures. Phew! We have avoided making the same mistake that we made last year where we got stuck behind the winter closures and had to organise to have the boat trucked over to another canal. Oops.
It is just outside Leamington that we have organised to have guests! Friends from the US have organised to join us and experience what is means to live the canal boat life. And we have some fun plans to show them what it is all about! First stop, 8 locks! Followed by a pub meal. It was so much easier having 4 people on the boat with 3 people able to work the locks. A lot quicker too, and so we found ourselves quite quickly at our designated pub for dinner, and predinner drinks.
Our friends were keen to experience more, and we wanted to take them on a journey through the countryside to Braunston, a cute town that includes a haunted tunnel. We spend New Years quietly, in a field of course, and plan to complete the tunnel on New Years day.
The tunnel is interesting as it is a little wobbly. The construction teams started at each end, then realised they were off by a few feet and had to put some bends in it. When we are a kilometre underground we hope their construction is more solid than their direction finding. No ghosts this time.
Once through the tunnel, we enjoy catching up over cards and boat cooked meals (there is only so many pubs one can visit before you can literally predict every menu), and travel along the canal towards the Watford lock flight. This is a flight that is so steep it has permanent volunteers on hand to assist boats up and down the flight. We pull up at the bottom, and I ran up the hill to the lock keepers hut to register our intention to navigate the locks. Registration complete, we were advised to begin the flight. “Red before white, and you’ll be right” the lock keeper said to me, and following his instructions, we let the boat in the lock, wound the red paddles, then wound the white paddles, and we were indeed, “right” making it to the top of the flight quickly. The flight consists of 7 locks, 4 of which are in a staircase configuration. This means you go up one lock, straight into another, and so ensuring you do the paddles in the correct order is important as to not get stuck.
A further way along the canal, and our friends said thank you and good bye, and again, we were just the 3 of us. In a field.
Unfortunately, the UK flu hit us at this point. We found out later that this has been the worst flu season in the UK for 65 years. The country is basically out of cough medicine and paracetamol, so I raided my handbag stash for paracetamol and we learned quickly how to make cough medicine at home.
Good pour of whiskey in a mug
A squeeze of honey
Good squeeze of lemon juice
Boiling water to the top
Slice of lemon floating around
Sip…
Repeat.
Thank you google
So we take it easy. The boating stops for a few days, we rest, drink our cough medicine, try to placate the neurotic spaniel who is getting increasingly more neurotic the longer we need to recover. Eventually we both feel okay to get our boating again, and decide we will slowly boat up to a small town called Welford.
We manage a lovely walk through the countryside in Welford. I am still coughing a lot, and unfortunately in my frustration with this I decide to cough purposely really hard. “CLICK” something goes in my ribs, and the next day I wake up with very very very sore ribs.
By the time we get to Market Harborough, I need to go to the urgent care at the hospital to get some proper pain killers. Opioids in hand, I do start to get a lot better. PHEW! So most of January at this point has been a little – in the wars to put it mildly. But its okay, as we have our lovely fire, and our fields.
After some exploring around Market Harborough, we fill up with water and leave to head south towards our drop off point in about 10 days. The forecast indicates a couple of sub zero nights and it looks there might be some light ice. By the time we re climbing the Foxton locks the ice was becoming harder to navigate.
We found a parking spot with a view and enjoyed an end of day stout on the roof. The next morning a canal trust boat had come the opposite direction breaking the ice by the time The Squire ventured out for the day.
The day was spent ice breaking until we arrived at Kilworth marina the site of our lorry ride 12 months earlier. With coal and fuel on board we were prepared just in case the ice returned with vengeance and we couldn’t move.
The next morning arrived with the welcome sight of the The Duke and The Duchess, our sister ships, breaking the ice as they passed us. The Duchess in particular had great ice breaking capabilities that we appreciated over the coming days. It’s quite easy to follow another boat that is breaking the ice, but the lead boat works very hard.
Whilst many boaters thanked us for breaking the ice so they could move to get water and coal, this day we encountered the nutty fringe who were convinced the ice was damaging their boats, and probably crop circles are created by aliens and chemtrails are poisoning them. They shouted, swore, threatened and threw things. Who knew narrow boaters could get so excited?
Over the next few days the canal defied the forecast and the ice thickened. The Duke and The Duchess did most of the ice breaking, placating the shouty boaters and getting cheered on by those short of supplies. We enjoyed a delightful dinner at Crick with the American couples aboard the Duke and Duchess and got used to people telling us tails of those determined Americans breaking the ice ahead of us.
Despite our best efforts the ice was slowing our progress enough that we were not going to reach The Squires home at Heyford. We agreed to take it as far as Fenny Compton where our first canal trip had begun a year earlier. It seemed to fitting to end our trip in the same pub it had started.
With bags packed we left The Squire and started the long trip home to Away. Please enjoy these little snaps from the trip.