South From Alesund - Fairwinds 2010

Wednesday 14th July 2010-06-19

We slipped our lines at ten o'clock and and by twenty past the engine was off and we were bowling along under genoa and cold grey skies on a course of 240degT or thereabouts with 20-25 knots from pretty much dead astern. We took the most direct route to Statt, back through the bridges between Leinoy and Rimoy and Bergsoy and Nederlandsoy, the same way we had come. We went under the first bridge at about half past one and rolled half the genoa away to slow the boat to 4 knots while we enjoyed lunch in the temporarily calm seas between the islands.

Soon we were out under the second bridge with the full genoa pulling us along at six knots, with regular surfing up to eight knots as the seas built again once we were out of the lee of the islands. We had decided to keep a couple of miles off Statt, but even so the seas became much larger as we approached this notorious headland. The Norwegion met office foreast had given F7 off Statt for the afternoon, and we certainly had that. As we rounded the NW point we had to roll half the genoa away to prevent out of control surfing, but were still making over five knots and surfing at seven. We arrived at the East cardinal which marks the end of the Statt experience at half past six, having averaged 5.1 knots - all under genoa - since leaving Alesund 43 nm previously.

The wind now became flukey and eventually died not long after we raised the main, so we alternatively sailed and motorsailed down toward Maloy under blue skies, warm for the first time in nearly two days. We enjoyed haggis and tatties as the autohelm took us down the sound between Maloy and the Mainland then briefly sailed again as we came out under Maloy bridge and headed towards the passage round the Hornelen, the scene of those outrageous squalls a week before, Tonight though the wind died completely and we motored through this magnificent scenery enjoying the peace and serenity of it all.

As we came out into the Froysjoen with twenty miles still to go to Floro and midnight approoaching we decided to have a few of games of crib to pass the time on passage. I would pop my head up between hands - every 3 or 4 minutes - to check for traffic. About a mile from the point where we would turn South for Floro I was dealing when the boat suddenly began to rock as if encountering a wake. I jumped up to see two MoBos racing past at 25 or 30 knots heading towards the Hornelen, probably taking advantage of a brief weather window to nip round Statt at night . The rules are different when you have a couple of hundred horsepower and are not afraid to use it, and as I said before these guys are all fantastic boat drivers.

As we turned the corner and headed South towards Floro I spotted a ship astern. It was now about one o'clock and actually a bit dark. Realising that by the time it caught us up we would be in fairly confined waters I thought it would be a good time to try out the AIS engine on passage. After a bit of difficulty finding the relevant leads I fired it up and it worked perfectly, showing the ship's track, CPA, time to CPA, name, speed and a host of other info. I was so busy watching this that I was taken aback when another AIS target ahead of us suddenly hove into view over the edge of the screen - which meant it was not much more than a mile away at the scale I was on. I grabbed the binoculars but didn't need them - it was a megatrawler heading between us and the freighter that had just passed us to starboard with a CPA of 0.2nm. I clicked its target - CPA 0.1nm in 6 minutes it said, and guess what, it was spot on. What a magical tool . . . the entry into Floro is less than obvious even with electronic charts as there are so many marks and lights, but watching the Hurtigruten's track as she went in made it a whole lot easier. Electronic charts with GPS and AIS input made this night entry into a difficult and busy port a stress-free experience.

We tied up in the same berth as before at twenty past two, just a few hours short of a week after our departure from Floro. 81nm from Alesund, sixteen hours on passage. A large dram and so to bed.

Thursday 15th July 2010-06-19

We didn't get up until nearly one o'clock. We both had showers and Kathy did a bit of food shopping while I went to the Tourist Information and had a look at the weather on their free internet. It's looking a bit grim for the rest of the week, strong Southerlies and heavy rain. We decided to go to Svanoy, an island about 10nm SSE of Floro.

We left Floro marina at twenty past three with a stiff breeze from the SW and black clouds building inland. After a small detour to Stabben light for a photo we headed South thrugh the main approach into the port then hoisted the genny and sailed SE down Bufjord towards Svanoy. The wind was light initially and we had lunch then Kathy caught a mackerel. The wind picked up, and soon we were making over five knots on a close reach under genoa with the boat mostly sailing herself - just a bungee adjusted to compensate for weather helm. As the wind veered I merely adjusted the sheet and bungee and she continued to sail herself on a beam reach. Sometimes I wonder why we bother with the main at all in winds over 20 knots - the Vega will do pretty much anything you ask of her under headsail alone.

The black clouds down the fjord now loomed close over our destination, and as I furled the genoa and put the engine on it began to rain in huge drops. It was short lived though - just enough to get my trousers thoroughly wet - then it stopped as we came into the ferry jetty and pontoon at Svanoy. We tied up behind a big Norwegian HR in absolutely perfect shelter and were charged only NOK60 for the privilege (under 30ft). Facilities are first class and the place looks interesting and peaceful, but frequent heavy showers kept us mostly on the boat for the evening.

Friday 16th July 2010-06-19

I slept like a log, but Kathy says she was woken by rain so heavy it sounded as though someone had turned fire hose on the boat. We got up about half past nine, had a lazy breakfast of toast and jarlsberg then went for a walk round Svanoy's North Sea Trail, one of a series of waymarked and well documented paths on the main islands offshore from Floro. The path took us past the restored manor house and a couple of prosperous looking farms then through mixed woodland and over a forested pass between two hills called the Trollkasset, which I guess means pass of the trolls or something similar.

Back at the boat we had a brunch of bacon, egg and fried tatties and I checked mail and weather on the shop's (free) internet connection. We decided to stay put for the day as the forecast for later was not great, F7 southerlies and heavy rain. Tomorrow looks better, and we are going to try to head out for Bulandet, an outlying island about 20nm SE of here.

Bulandet may be our last port of call in Norway as with the current low declining tomorrow another deep low out in mid-Atlantic will be heading towards the UK. The Gribs are suggesting a possible window for Shetland leaving Monday morning, with a mixed bag of F4 on the nose, F5-6 beam reach half way across then motoring in very light winds for the last 50 miles or so. Wednesday night a load of F6-7-8 Southerlies are forecast for Shetland, so if we go through that window we want to be there by Wednesday lunchtime. We would like to stay this side longer, work our way down to Stavanger and go across to Peterhead but the weather is so unsettled that it seems more sensible to take an opportunity to cross back to Shetland sooner rather than later - and we can't really afford the canal anyway as we have run out of beer and are probably going to have to buy some Norwegian cans in the shop here.

After lunch we just sat around for a while reading on the boat. By three the showers seemed to be dying out, so we hired bikes for three hours for 50NOK and went off to explore more of the island. The tarmac ran out after three kilometres at the school and the resulting tracks continued for another two or three kilometres to groups of two or three houses - Svanoy only has a population of 100, and over half of them probably live in the North end near the ferry terminal. The island is densely wooded pretty much all over, a quiet, peaceful place and much nicer than being in Floro marina.

Just before tea I took the toughbook up to the covered area in front of the bar to check email and weather and upload this blog and the heavens opened - absolutely torrential rain for about thirty minutes. It eased a bit and I managed to get back to the boat very pleased that the Toughbook is waterproof. After tea we had a very expensive 'pint' up at the bar then retired to the boat and opened the duty free Jura.

Saturday 17th July 2010-06-19

Today we had a sinking incident then a soaking incident, so a pretty wet day.

It rained all night and was still blowing and raining intermittently in the morning. We checked the weather and our Monday window for Lerwick had slammed shut. Sunday was looking pretty foul, so we abandoned the original plan to go to Bulandet and decided to make our way South with a view to perhaps going back to plan A for the homeward journey, a dep-arture from Stavanger or thereabouts with landfall in Peterhead and home via Inverness and the canal. 165nm from Fedje to Skerries sounds very attractive, but it is a long way to Oban from Shetland. All options kept open for the meantime.

We left Svanoy at twelve fifteen with no wind and more rain. I put up the main with two reefs in anticipation of the forecast wind. About twenty minutes later Kathy - who was standing down in the saloon - suddenly shouted "Nick - there's water coming in". The carpet was awash and when Kathy took it up the bilge covers floated - not a good sign, Fairwinds has a very deep bilge, and that means a lot of water already on board. Kathy whacked the electric bilge pump on and I spun the boat round and headed back towards Svanoy at full revs, preferring to sink alongside the boatyard there if we had to.

I got Kathy to shut the heads seacocks, check the sink seacock and look in the engine bilge. No problem in any of these areas, and in then meantime the bilge pump was barely coping and we were down at the stern with a lot of water coming in the cockpit drains. At this point Kathy mentioned that she had pumped the bilge a short time before and I realised what was happening. I put the engine into neutral, the pump emptied the bilge and the sinking stopped. The bilge pump hose is connected into the starboard cockpit drain hose - well above the waterline, but it would appear that if the bilge pump hose is full and the stern sinks under power it is possible for a siphon to be set up, rapidly filling the boat through a 1" aperture. The amazing thing is that this has never happened before, although thinking back there was a similar mysterious incident in the Dorus Mor a few years ago when we were well heeled to starboard and the bilge filled.

With the panic over but the carpet soaked we turned round and resumed our Southerly course. By this time the wind had picked up and it started to rain, then it really started to rain. The wind increased until we had a steady 25 knots over the deck with more in the gusts and someone turned a fire hose on me. Oh, a wee squall I thought, but it was an hour before it abated, by which time I was chilled and damp as water had managed to get down my neck and inside my jacket.

There wasn't much more rain after that but the wind continued to behave abysmally. Over the next four hours we made various attempts to sail, quite prepared to tack if the wind remained sensible. However, it refused to co-operate and either squalled up to F6+ bang on the nose or died away to a zephyr every time we tried. We took the inner route inside Atloy, noting that now the offshore islands that had been our original destination appeared to be bathed in sunshine while the hills inland were black. Ho hum.

South of Atloy we made one last attempt to sail, then gave up as the wind blew up yet again to 20 knots or so for no obvious reason. Even motor sailing was problematic with 20 knots bang on the nose, and I lost patience and took the main down vowing it would stay down for the day. As we motored down Hellesund and across the Sognesjoen past Dingja the wind dropped, the greyness abated and it turned into quite a pleasant evening. Forty minutes later we were approaching Eivindvik, where helpful people beckoned us into a berth between a big yacht and a MoBo that was no more than two feet longer than Fairwinds. It was flat calm here, and miraculously I parked her without incident, the outboard on the pushpit missing the MoBo's anchor by less than an inch.

A nice quiet place with a lot of Viking history - we will have a walk round tomorrow. No internet access at the moment, so not sure when I will be able to upload this, or check the weather to make further plans.

Sunday 18th July 2010-06-19

Today we motored twelve miles into atrocious headwinds, sailed eleven miles and were towed the last mile to end up back where we started in Eivindvik.

We started the day by discovering that the Spar didn't open on Sunday after all, so it was muesli for breakfast then a walk round the local Viking trail, which involved wet feet after more torrential overnight rain. We asked the nice guy on the HR34 if he had got a weather forecast - we had listened on the local working channel, but it was all in Norwegian. He said it would be a little windy, 10m/s, which is 20 knots, so not too bad. We decided to try to go to Fedje, an island just South of the mouth of Fjensfjord. We reckoned we would have to motor against the wind until we got to Fjensfjord but would then be able to sail. The base windspeed may have been 20 knots, but it was gusting 30 regularly as we bashed our way down the rocky channels to Fjensfjord. By the time we had rounded the last bend and were facing the chop generated across four miles of open water between us and the far side of the fjord 30 knots was the norm rather than the exception. By now we had decided that Fedje, a low exposed offshore island, was probably not were we wanted to be, so we attempted to motor straight across the fjord and into the sheltered channels that lead South to Bergen from there. As we crashed and banged into the chop our speed dropped to two knots at times. We tried motor-sailing with half the genny, but progress was still pitiful as gust after gust threw stinging spray in our faces. A triple reefed main would have been a better idea but the jammer for the third reef isn't working and anyway I didn't fancy it much.

Eventually I just couldn't stand it any more. We turned round and ran back downwind, making five knots under a scrap of genoa. We spotted a pontoon tucked in behind the last point in then sound and went to investigate. There were no cleats or rings and the pontoon was bucking a bit, but we managed to get alongside and secured with only some (more) black marks from the tyres to add to our docking souvenirs.

Once we were on the pontoon we decided we didn't like it - there was altogether too much movement - so we jumped on board and cast off again. The wind seemed to have gone down a bit, so we tentatively headed upwind again to see if the fjord crossing was now feasible. Almost immediately the engine overheat alarm went off and smoke appeared, so we killed the engine, popped some genoa and spun round to run downwind while I investigated. Truth to tell it wasn't entirely unexpected - I had been complaining for a while that the engine was smellier than normal, and twice now I had found what appeared to be a fine mist of dirty water over the top of the engine, although I couldn't see any leaks when I watched it running.

I checked the inlet hose filter and the impellor - both fine. The smoke and previous smell suggested an exhaust issue, so I took the cockpit sole up and discovered what I should have spotted days ago - a substantial crack in the water injection bend on the exhaust. We decided to try to sail back to Eivindvik as we reckoned it was all sailable - although we had come round several right angle corners and through some very narrow passages the wind had been resolutely in our faces on the way down. We knew that the last 2km down the narrow sheltered fjord that leads to Eivindvik might be tricky, but we hoped to sail as much of it as possible then put the engine on just to get alongside somewhere. If the worst came to then worst and we got totally becalmed the depths in the approach were only 20 metres or so and we could probably drop the hook while looking for a tow in.

The sail back went pretty smoothly, with initially half the genoa out then most of it with just a few rolls in. At one point OpenCPN crashed as we were checking the next turning on our route and as I tried to resurrect it I hit some unknown key combination that turned the screen on the IEE PC through 90 degrees, which caused a lot of swearing and took some time to sort, but we had remembered the way and were retracing our rock-strewn route accurately. There was one hairy bit on the last East-West section before our destination where the wind alternatively headed us then died, but we managed to drift our way into the main blast again, up the East side of Hiseroy then hang a right into the channel up to Einvindik's gjesthamn.

We had sailed less than a third of the way up the 2km stretch when the wind died completely then headed us. We were drifting towards the edge of the channel, so I put the engine on and hoped it would get us the rest of the way. Black smoke billowed out from the starboard cockpit locker and from the exhaust, and after about thirty seconds I couldn't stand it any more and switched it off again. We drifted and floated a bit more, making progress in the odd puff, while I got out a suitable towrope. A decent sized MoBo hove into view, so I waved and stood there looking a bit pathetic with a coil of rope in my hand. They passed us their lines and gave us an alongside tow, but were nervous about getting into a con fined space in this configuration as the boat was new to them - they had bought it in Oslo and were delivering it home to the Lofotens. They spoke to a guy with a young family heading down-fjord in a small open MoBo, and he said he would give a hand. Once through the final port and starboard marks the big MoBo dropped us and I handed the small MoBo our towline. We cast off with just enough momentum to take us alongside behind our original saviour, where several helpful people took our lines.

Once secure alongside I dived straight in to the filthy job of removing the offending exhaust bend, and to my amazement all four bolts holding it onto the manifold came out without too much drama. I cleaned it up and it looks as though a competent stainless welder should be able to fix it, so lets hope I can find one tomorrow - and that we have enough NOK to pay him!

Opened the last bottle of tonic - not that it matters as the gin is almost finished. Kathy put some washing on - everything is dirty or damp or both. Windy and heavy rain again.

Monday 19th July 2010-06-19

Woke to more rain and wind. Went for a wander to look for a welder with no success - the place was deserted. I then spoke to the postperson, who was standing at the back of her van. It turned out her husband has a boatyard on Hiseroy and they had already heard about us from the person in the small MoBo who assisted us yesterday. She said her husband could probably do the job and that she would be back with it at about half past two. It stopped raining as well - things were looking up.

Kathy put a second load of washing on and then we wandered ujp to the hotel to have a coffee and use their wi-fi. By lunchtime the sun had come out - for the first time in several days - and we had lunch in the cockpit. The postlady came by and said that the job was doable but her hubby hadn't had time yet - he would do it this evening, and she would bring it round at half past nine tomorrow. With a suny day in hand we began to dry things out and sort out the shambles down below. Kathy washed the bedding and I took the carpet up onto the dock and gave it a thorough scrubbing. We also dried off the cushions, boots, shoes and generally aired the boat. By half past seven things were shipshape again and Kathy made a superb spag bol which we enjoyed in the still warm sunshine in the cockpit with a can of Hansa, being in a carefree sort of damn the expense mood.

Loads of boats came in today including several yachts. We spent quite a while chatting to the lassie off Ella, a Beneteau Oceanis 34 from Stavanger, but the most impressive arrival was the 80-tonne 'La Belle Vie', more of a mini-ship than a MoBo. It was home to a young couple and their two kids. He had built it himself and they live on it year round in the middle of Haugesund. They had just been down to the end of Sognefjord, where apparently the weather has been great - it is nothing like the coast, being over 120 miles inland.

Sadly the forecast is for 20mm of rain tomorrow and more on Wednesday, but the end of the week is looking good. Assuming the engine is working again we are defnitely heading South with a view to coming home via Peterhead and the canal - as I said, we are in a 'damn the expense' mood at the moment.

Tuesday 20th July 2010-06-19

Woke to rain, low cloud and mist. The postlady came by as promised with the mended exhaust elbow just after half past nine. The repair had been more extensive than at first thought - the crack went 270 degrees around and when Mr. Odfin started to weld it it just all melted away. He had had to find and join a new section of pipe, which he had done in a most professional looking way, with the new section being thicker gauge as well - so hopefully it will now last forever.

The bad news was that the postlady's estimate of 'not much' translated to NOK1000, or a bit over £100. I wasn't surprised as I know from my time on then rigs that Norwegians are simply paid an awful lot more than us for doing the same jobs - whjch helps to explain how they can afford the beer. Anyway, Kathy went to the bank - the Einvindvik branch of Sparebank has no ATM, so she had to venture within . The woman behind he counter tried to process her Maestro card as a Visa and announced that it wasn't valid, and we were beginning to get a bit embarrassed. I think the nice couple off Ella would have actually lent us the money, but in the end the Spar saved the day by giving us cashback without us actually having to buy anything.

Next job was to venture below the cockpit sole in the rain and refit it without undoing all the good cleaning work of the day before. The job went very well, only taking about twenty minutes,and after I remembered to open the engine seacock all was running smoothly. We decided to get as far South as possible in spite of the weather, in the hope of seeing some of the countryside South of Bergen when the rain stopped.

We motored back the way we had come twice now through the rocky maze to Fensfjord with visibility of about a mile and constant heavy rain, wind right on the nose whichever way we turned - it always blows either up or down the channel. Crossing Fensfjord we put the AIS on. There was only one conflicting target, and again the AIS removed the stress by warning us before we saw the ship and reassuring us that the CPA was more than zero.

Once in the channels South of Fensfjord it was just a question of checking the CMAP chart when we came to one of the many junctions or choices. The rain was relentless, and the visibility never improved beyond a mile or so. Our wet gear was wet, every hat on board was wet, our minds were saturated with rain. Coming down Byfjord towards Bergen we decided to stop at Florvag marina opposite Bergen. It sounded OK in the pilot but when we went in it was a depressing post-industrial wasteland and we couldn't face it, so we decided to carry on another ten miles South to Hjellestadt, a marina described in the pilot as 'handy for the airport'.

South of Bergen there was a lot more traffic and in the very limited visibility the AIS proved invaluable. Although we were back on the paper chart now it didn't have enough detail to safely show us the way into Hjellestadt, but with CMAP we managed - although in good visibility I think we would have found a shorter route through the archipelago of islets that surrounds the place.

We tied up initially on the outside, but wandering ashore I took the lines of a sailing school boat returning late (it was nearly 11 o'clock now) and they indicated a short pontoon right by the dock where we could tie up, so we moved. Finally we were able to get rid of all the wet gear and sit down with a dram after 56 noisy, wet and thoroughly uninspiring miles. It had however been a very thorough test of the engine repair.

Wednesday 21st July 2010-06-19

Woke to pouring rain, which continued for most of the day. By mid-afternoon we were developing cabin fever, so grabbed the two large umbrellas we have found so useful on this trip and went for a walk in the rain round the leafy suburb of Hjellestadt. When we got back to the marina the rain had eased - in fact it had almost stopped, so we decided to make a move Southwards.

Initially we had thought to take a narrow shortcut (Lokksund) into upper Hardangerfjord and anchor just South of it. However, it soon became obvious that there were more showers to come and it wasn't looking like a particularly brilliant evening for a long sightseeing trip, so we decided to continue down the main inner lead to an anchorage called Landroyvag that the pilot described as a 'delightful inlet'. We found our way in and anchored very close to the anchor symbol on the chart in 15m, putting out 33m of chain and 15m of warp. We were in a completely landlocked pool surrounded by low cliffs covered in trees, and although we could see the clouds moving overhead the lagoon was completely still - it was hard to imagine the anchor dragging here.

Although we had been trolling at just over three knots on the way in Kathy only caught one small mackerel after we had actually dropped anchor, so it was eked out with tuna (From a tin).

The anchorage was so still and so quiet it was uncanny - we have spent a lot of this trip tied up in cities, towns and villages and it was almost unnerving at first. Really quite spectacular though, a big tree-girt tranquil lagoon and us the only boat in it. We were now below 60 degrees North for the first time in a month. The rain stopped, patches of blue sky were visible and the sun even made a brief appearance.

Thursday 22nd July 2010-06-19

I woke a couple of times to hear rain and wind, but the wind never got low enough to stretch our rode out. There was a lot of rain overnight but we woke to a brighter though chilly morning. We got our anchor (with some effort in that depth) and motored out into the main inner lead, this part of which is known as the Langoulen. We found about 20 knots blowing from dead astern, so it was a pleasant genoa only run down to the turning into Bomlafjord, the long arm that stretches down towards the open sea and Haugesund.

Turning into Bomlafjord the wind dropped for a while and we raised the main and found ourselves on a brisk close reach. A couple of the hats were now dry and morale was definitely improving, until the skipper's lunch was spoiled by the wind increasing to a good F6 as we passed the entrance to an ogther channel / funnel leading Northwards - making helming and soup- consumption a tricky bit of multitasking. Eventually we had to roll a fair bit of the genoa away, and in truth we should have stuck a couple of reefs in the main the fist time this happened, but we stubbornly held on to the full main right to the bottom of the fjord with Fairwinds screaming along at six and a half knots.

We had decided to head for Espevaar, a small car-free island that had been highly recommended by Coe, the Dutch guy we had met on Ulysses in Lerwick and seen again in Floro. This involved rounding the point at the N orth side oif the b ottom of Bomlafjord and heading North into wind for aout a mile, so we dropped the main and motored round the heaqdland and across rthe straight to Espevaar. The pilot said enter from S, E or N so as the South channel was the nearest we picked it. Out of the open sea we entered a mini-maze of rocky channels, with the roofs of houses peeking over the outcrops. We felt our way in through a channel we had seen a small fishing boat emerge from - it was maybe 30ft wide at thi point - and came to a junction surrounded by houses with boats moored at theior quays. A nondescript perch did not provide much infor mation, and I initially turned to port. Kathy pointed out the4 giveaway patch of seaweed while people sitting on one of the quays pointed the other way. I engaged reverse, more in hope than anger, and the wind coming down the main channel swung the bows round. There was just enough space to rotate without incident, then we had to motor back to a wider part to turn and come back in leaving the perch correctly to port this time. I am not sure if the watchers were more puzzled or entertained by our antics.

Finally we found the main quay in front of the supermarket with the ferry berthed there plusseveral smaller boats - presumably shoppers. There was a big Irish Beneteau 52 we could have gone alongside, but they didn't seem keen. We milled about a bit more, then the shoppers emerged and left so we went alongside just behind the Espevaar Express. No sooner had we done so than a British flagged Rival 41 came in, so we let them inside and rafted up outside them. They were a retired couple. Stewart and Liz Shaw. The boat, Border Rival, lives in Cardiff. They had been in Norway for two weeks, and had been down Hardangerfjord to look at the glacier. They said we were the first British boat they had seen since before Lerwick, where Victoria Dock had been full of Norwegians and Germans.

We went for a walk to the UFO landing site then round the waterfront, where we chatted to a Norwegian guy who worked for Statoil who told us a bit more about the alleged UFO. Back oin board it was tinned macaroni cheese and (fresh) salad then we went to the pub to meet Stewart and Liz, who had said they were going to go for a drn k. It had shot at eight o'clock . . . pubs tend to shut ridiculously early during the week then stay open until two Friday Saturday and Sunday. I knocked on Border Rival's hull and invited her crew aboard for a dram, and we chatted and drammed until one before retiring.