Norwegian Brigadoon

True to plan, Boogie, Marlies and I were up at 5am raising the anchor and heading north. Boogie and I stayed on watch as we made our way to Sagfjord, the next fjord north of the Eidet area we enjoyed last week. The weather was raw — cold and wet — but it never really rained, and with little to no wind. The grumpy weather seemed stuck on the mountains of the mainland coast — offshore, over toward Lofoten, blue sky and puffy cumulus clouds could be seen. But we were bound for the overcast…and it turned out to be a good call.

At the head of Sagfjord, we anchored off a little village whose name I have no way of discerning from the charts we have. And in fitting fashion, in finding this town-off-the-map, we may have found the Norwegian Brigadoon.

Norwegian Brigadoon, found at the head of Sagfjord

The village consists of a couple of dozen houses (some of which are quite nice), a dock and a two-track dirt road linking them all. Cultivated fields cut from low hills of northern forest mark the village’s home in the larger wilderness, and smooth, rounded granite walls with occasional sharp, jagged peaks ring the perimeter.

According to one local, the families here all live in Lofoten during the winter, where they work the cod fishery and make a decent living. In the summer, they settle in out here, away from civilization and in the peace and quiet of their own high-latitude escape pod. There are a handful of cars — old Subaru Brats and other relics with no registration or plates or any official license — brought here by boat since there’s no road out. And residents use a high-speed boat to get to Bodø when they need medical attention or for whatever other reason they might need to hit town.

The falls at Trollvika in Sagfjord

About three kilometers toward the sea from the village, the cove of Trollvika features a waterfall that courses in four steps from the mountains above (fed, according to the charts, by a glacier up high). Rather than plummet over a precipice, the water spreads out over the granite in thin, white fans, looking a lot more like a bridal veil than any of the waterfalls called “bridal veil falls” that I’ve ever seen (c’mon, admit it: you’ve seen at least one waterfall somewhere called by that name).

On top of all that, the youngest and most aloof of the Polish kids, the only one who didn’t catch a fish at Mannbåen, hooked and landed the first halibut — the grail for anglers in these parts — of either Norway trip. Running 18 to 20 pounds, the fish was the topper of a great day for all: kayakers had nice water and all proved capable under Mike’s tutelage, hikers wandered the village…and now the anglers are happy too. The parents in the group are also psyched that this kid in particular managed to nab the great catch.

The plan now is to have supper on the hook here, and then we’ll head out of Sagfjord and head west, across Vestfjord and back to Nusfjord. We’ll make the trip overnight in about ten hours or so, during which time (I hope) our guests will remain below and out of the way. They definitely dip into the sauce early and often, I suspect, and with the thought that we crewmembers don’t notice.

I’m no teetotaler. We all know that I have an affection for quality spirits. But when at sea, alcohol is verboten. It just is. Too much can go wrong, especially when you don’t know what you’re doing and aren’t totally comfortable on a boat. And those operating a boat can’t have their focus diverted by knuckleheads bouncing off the walls after a few shots of vodka or a couple of bottles of wine. So I really hope this group settles in for the evening trip (and that they remember to set their leecloths: it looks like we might have some wind funneling in from the outer waters which would permit a bit of sailing for a change…fingers are crossed).

Our current guests also have an obstinate streak that makes for challenging situations on board. Despite repeated reminders that here, cut off from societal constructs, water and electricity are commodities to be conserved as much as possible, they continue to do things like leave lights on and let the sink run when washing dishes. The generator is on despite the hours of motoring this morning that filled our batteries. And we’re already running low on the first of our four enormous water tanks — and we’re not even 24 hours out of Bodø. So as I mentioned earlier: this could wind up being a long week.

In any case, I should be able to publish these posts sometime tomorrow from Nusfjord. And a beer — since we’ll be tied to a dock and not at sea or on the anchor — will be nice. Cross your fingers for me/us…

PS: Apologies if the photos are a bit shaky. It was pretty dark under the overcast as we motored past the falls, and here in Nusfjord is too sunny (good problem to have) for me to see the screen well enough to judge photo quality properly. I’ll fix all this when I’m indoors again in Bodø.

Lofoten Week No. 2

Started our second of two week-long cruises in northern Norway yesterday. Polar Bear has been chartered for the week by a pair of families from Poland, and all 12 guests arrived on board over the course of the afternoon. Boogie did his introductory speech explaining safety procedures and welcoming the visitors, and we were off on the 13-mile motor to Mannbåer, site of our first-night anchorage out with last week’s Scottish guests.

We motored because there wasn’t a breath of wind as we made our way north from Bodø. Not even a puff. The Vestfjord waters were an unbroken sheet of black glass. The air was warm despite a mostly-overcast layer of clouds and it was a quick run.

After we anchored, a light breeze picked up from the south — onshore for this particular anchorage. That meant that if we dragged the anchor at all, we’d be in danger of winding up on the nearby shore. So we would indeed be posting anchor watches for the overnight period in spite of Boogie’s earlier expectations that such watches would be unnecessary. And with just four crew — Boogie, Marlies, me and Mike, leader of last week’s Scots and a kayak/fishing guide — that meant hour-and-a-half stints between 11pm and our 5am departure. Mike took the first watch; he was going to be up for a bit anyway, cleaning the cod he’d helped the guests catch upon our arrival. I lined up for the second watch and turned in for a little less than two hours of sleep.

I woke at 12:30am to the sound of voices. Several of the Polish men were still awake, chatting and having a few drinks around the table in the saloon of the boat. So much for my peace and quiet, I feared, but the last of them turned in at about 10 past 1, thank goodness. And the wind has remained out of the south, though very light, so the watch was indeed necessary. We have 8.3 meters of water according to the depth gauge and I’m on until 2am.

Hoo boy. This could wind up being a tiring week. I may have had a hard time understanding what the Scots were saying, but there’s no danger of me following even a single word of the Polish flying around the boat now. Or of getting to be as comfortable and friendly with these guests as I wound up with the Scots. The adults in this group are off on their own trip with little interest in being part of what makes the boat operate. Instead, they constantly smoke cigarettes on the foredeck and were drinking before we’d even left the dock (alcohol while we’re underway is definitely not allowed). Meanwhile, of the four kids (ranging in age from 8 to 15), two are shy to the point of being mute while the other two are just very quiet. All of the guests perked up when they started catching some good-sized cod just minutes after settling into the cove here at Mannbåen, but other than that, they do what they want, when they want — safety protocols (and courtesy) be damned.

The plan as of last evening is to depart this cove around 5am and head for a fjord north of Eidet, the place we wound up the last trip with the Scots. We’ll get there mid-morning and get the group out kayaking, fishing, hiking, and will spend Sunday night on the hook there. We’ll get up Monday morning and head across the Vestfjord directly to Nusfjord and Lofoten. The forecast is for light winds, but we’re still looking for well-protected areas where these beginning kayakers can be safe; more open waters such as those we took the Scots to would be dangerous and could even prevent these guests from kayaking at all. We’ll hop from place to place until Thursday or Friday morning, when we have to be back in Bodø in order to make airline connections.

Polar Bear is already operating more smoothly than last week, simply due to the departure of Boy Wonder and Mr. KIA Crewman. Sure, we still get the amusing bickering between Boogie and Marlies — they’ll get a post to themselves at some point: their back-and-forth badgering calls to mind, well, a married couple; indeed, they sound like a couple who’ve been married for decades, not a mere 11 months — but there’s a clear chain of command and not several would-be captains. Mike is great fun and chips in with everything; he was completely in his element when we arrived, helping the anglers young and old get lines out and fish in. He was especially helpful and encouraging with the kids, and their faces lit up like neon when he’d help them catch some very nice cod — but he still enabled them to have the accomplishment and pride of doing the actual work.

So here we go: another week with a full boat. Exacerbating the close quarters is a profound language gap and an aloof (even standoffish) attitude from the guests. Should be educational for all involved…