The car journey back the following weekend
didn’t go altogether to plan either, with an enforced 4 hour stop in
Nottingham
to rebuild the charging/cooling system – but
we still had time to lock out into a calm
Humber
and await the forecast Southerly gale that had cast a bit of a mental cloud over the preceding week. The spinnaker
came down at 2300, by 0100 we had two reefs, the third came down an hour later,
and by 0230 we were charging along under just a poled out No 3. For several
hours the wind was a solid 30 knots with an hour or so around 0600 with a
steady 35 – and of course pouring rain. We made the nice discovery that even in
big seas the new autopilot steered a lot better than us and so from now on we
just left it to get on with the job whilst we tended the sails.
Or not! Initially our course took us north of the rhumb to
avoid the shallows of
Dogger Bank
(possibly
unpleasant in this wind) and as the wind veered SW next evening so our course
altered to keep the wind dead astern. The occasional breaking wave made life wet for the man on watch, but
nothing dangerous came aboard. Sleeping was a bit of an art form as we rolled
and pitched our way onwards, but the frequency was low and everyone’s stomachs
seemed fine. By
midnight
the
wind was down to 20 knots and veering to WNW so we hoisted the trysail as the
boom would have been constantly in the water. The new motion proved more
difficult with some awkward cross seas , and Barney succumbed, soon followed by
Ben who was listening to Billy Connolly on his I-pod and crying with laughter
and vomiting at the same time. Only a Scottish comedian could do that!
The 0530 shipping forecast suggested another
Southerly gale coinciding with our arrival, soon turning
Westerly
. This would leave us arriving at a
distinctly rocky coast in bad weather with the prospect of it becoming a lee shore.
Nice! I reasoned that the South Norwegian coast might be less windy, especially
if we entered the Skagerak close to
Jutland
and crossed over to the Norwegian shore once the wind had veered west.
Kristiansand
seemed to
have the easiest entrance, so plan B was hatched, course altered and we rolled
on our way.
The morning was spent in bright sunshine
gradually piling on sail til we were once more under kite. We even motored for
a few hours. Then the wind backed into the South, the sky began to cover and
our third night mirrored the first with systematic reductions in sail – but
very rapid progress towards the Skagerak whilst being entertained by various
schools of silver grey dolphin and helpful watch keepers on passing ships who
provided us with forecasts. Our third dawn brought heavy rain , more dolphins
who entertained Ben with a spectacular display of leaping and tail slapping , and a Norwegian forecast of a 7, though we
couldn’t quite understand when it was expected. For a while we rolled along
under storm jib and trysail, but as we turned north to cross the Skagerak, the
wind veered and the sky turned blue so we changed up jibs, hoisted the main and
thrashed across towards the coast. Halfway across the wind was again 30 knots,
causing us to take in the 3rd reef, but with 3 of us up to sail her
and the land ahead no longer a lee shore , Festina charged along at nearly 8 knots in good spirits.
The southern Skjaergard looked wonderful in
the afternoon sunshine. We moored alongside a beautiful Colin Archer yacht and
a short walk ashore convinced the boys that 30 % of Norwegian girls look like
Maria Sharapova, but the rest were far prettier. All in all it looked as if we
had come to the right place!
Nothing happened the next day to change
that view. Our neighbours were charming and showed us nice places to go on the
chart , the boys visited the book shop and found the girls even prettier , and
when I did eventually tear them away for a 10 mile beat through sparkling (
flat) water and myriad islands we all started salivating over the gorgeous
gaily painted summer homes tucked away in innumerable little sheltered coves
and bays- each with their own jetty , some with boat houses and all with the
inevitable flagstaff and Norwegian pennant.
Our destination was Ny Hellesund , a perfectly sheltered natural harbour
between two islands with two extremely narrow entrances . It was a deservedly
popular place but never on the scale of
Newtown
.
Most boats moored bows on to the rocks and some crews were camping on picture perfect grassy swards between the rocks
and the trees . The whole area was free to moor or camp , kept spotlessly clean
with well organised picnic tables and barbecues , loos and rubbish bins ,with
an occasional visit from a warden boat but not a money collector in sight. We
learnt that it is enshrined in law that the coast must be open to the
people as a national resource. No wonder
we don’t see any Norwegians visiting the UK.
We had surprising difficulty setting the
anchor in the sandy mud , eventually settled for two, and were very glad of them as a front blew
through in the night causing at
least one boat to drag badly.
It was too nice an area to leave so we took
Thursday off and launched the Klepper for the first time from the boat , using her to explore the nearby islands . When in
Rome
etc ( or in this
case
Norway
)
why not copy the natives. , Accordingly we joined our neighbours and moored bow on to the
rocks for our second night , which felt very secure in the still fresh
Westerly
wind. Later that evening I climbed the 200 ft or so to the top of the island and
gazed to windward over literally hundreds of other islands glistening under the
setting sun. Amazingly even at this height, and despite being buffeted by the fresh wind I could smell the sea , mixed with the piny
scent of trees , but above it all was a strong aroma of barbecues as seemingly the
whole nation was spread out over the rocks cooking and enjoying themselves in
the evening sunshine .
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