Summer Solstice…and Back to the Mainland

Time for another anchor watch.

Upon leaving Trollfjord, we retraced our steps toward Lillemolla but kept right on going…for another 70 miles or so back across the open water to the mainland. With gale warnings in the forecast, Boogie wanted to get back to within striking distance of Bodø in case things got really nasty. So we’re now anchored at the head of a fjord near a tiny settlement named Eidet. It’s not far (as the crow flies) from Mannbåer, our anchorage last Saturday, but this time we’re on the other side of the mountains from the open water, the fjord we’re in having snaked east and south and back around west.

And as if in response to yesterday’s observation regarding wildlife, once into this fjord we were surrounded by a pod of pilot whales, some of whom swam quite close to the boat. And after they’d wandered off, a couple of otters could be seen on shore along the waterline. Boy Wonder says there are several stands for hunting moose in the canyon above our anchorage, so I’m hoping a hike might reveal one of those critters.

That might happen. We’re not heading anywhere later this morning. Instead, we’ll stay on the hook here and people will kayak and fish in the protected waters, or hike on shore, while up along the ridges and out in the open water, the storm rages. You can see the low clouds racing over the mountaintops above, and yesterday’s sail including a raucous stretch near suppertime when we bounced and rolled beneath low skies and cold rain while running under yankee sail alone. Poor Marlies was cooking a huge pot of noodles with peanut sauce while Polar Bear rocked from side to side through 90 degrees or more.

Given the crappy weather and a change in the watch, I adjourned to my bunk around 6pm and observed the solstice all snug in my sleeping bag with the lee cloth securely fastened to keep me in my bunk rather than on the cabin floor. I plugged in the iPad and noise-canceling headphones, listened to some music and, shortly after the 6:16pm solstice, nodded off for an hour’s nap. Then it was up for the remainder of the run to this anchorage, which we made at about 1am this morning. A long day, to be sure.

But later today is all about having fun, so once this watch is over (in 10 minutes) I’ll head back to bed knowing that I won’t have to get up again in less than an hour to shove off. Instead, I’ll tuck in and sleep as long as my body (and the noise of 15 other passengers) allows.

I just poked my head out of the hatch to check our position (all good) and noticed a couple of tiny spots of blue sky scattered in among the scudding clouds. A waterfall can be heard from the thick, green woods on shore. And the broad, rocky cirque that forms the headwall above the canyon is littered with gossamer waterfalls as well; it’s all quite lovely (yet again), so, yes: I’m thinking a hike will be in order today. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even conjure some more haiku.

Travel, Uncategorized, , , , ,

Haiku on the High Seas

We’ve been seeing a lot of these jellyfish on our journey this summer

I met a German woman named Lynn on the dock shortly before leaving Nusfjord yesterday. She asked me about the iPad case I was using (I was on deck, checking email one last time just before Polar Bear sailed) and we talked about the various accessories available to those who’ve devoured the Apple Kool-Aid over the years. I mentioned that I also used the bluetooth keyboard (I’m using it now) when I was writing and that took our brief discussion into literature. Language segued into poetry which segued into haiku.

So while Polar Bear headed out of Trollfjord today I sat on the foredeck, pulled out my little moleskine journal (thanks, H) and dabbled. Bear in mind: while I love poetry, I’m a horrible and completely incompetent poet. “Roses are red, violets are blue” would be an epic were I to have penned such verse. And bear in mind, too, that I regard this blog as simply me puking on a keyboard. So what better than a pathetic attempt at poetry in a post of proverbial vomit?

What the hell?! I’m having fun on this trip; writing poetry is good discipline; and Trollfjord was a lovely, peaceful place with which quality haiku-writers could do wonders. And dammit: this here be my blog. So, you’ve been warned. Here goes:

Trollfjord waterfall:
downy flow in emerald wall
To or from heaven?

Journey to Trollfjord
Sky and earth, water and rock
paint your name on cliff?!

SoCal sprawl, decay,
Graffiti on Trollfjord cliff
Koyanisqatsi
(semi-obscure film reference…go with it)

Slate seas and gray skies
Mercury is falling fast
Gale warnings are up (or: Hatches are battened)

Travel, Uncategorized, , , , , , ,

The Fjord of Trolls

Yes, Trollfjord. The fjord of trolls, I guess. A tourist destination, nonetheless, due to its beauty. So much so that the regional ferry, the Hurtigruten, and cruise ships divert into this two-kilometer cleft while on their runs.

As you enter the fjord, the waterway narrows to just over a hundred yards wide. The vertical cliff faces leap out of the water and tower over the boat, while wispy waterfalls cascade from the heights in a series of steps until they reach the sea. Carried on the wind are the songs of unseen birds; perhaps it’s just wishful longing on my part, but one song heard several times sounded suspiciously like that of the canyon wren.

Three-quarters of the way in, the fjord widens a bit and the walls slip back away from the water, enabling one to see the high peaks and snowfields that feed the waterfalls. One creek enters the fjord at its head, beside an improbable home and what looks to be a small hydropower facility. Also improbably, many years’ worth of morons have painted their names and nationalities and boat names on the cliff walls, the graffiti as out of place here as a condom vending machine in the Vatican.

Also improbable about the whole of this Norway experience thus far is the dearth of wildlife. Since our sea-mammal welcome to Bodo, we’ve seen a few breeds of seabirds and little else. No whales or dolphins, no seals, few visible songbirds and certainly no megafauna like wolves or mountain sheep or bear. I know I compare Norway to Alaska too often (wrongly and unfairly, I admit), but knowing that such animals don’t even exist in the landscape lessens the experience. It’s as though there’s one piece missing smack dab in the middle of the jigsaw puzzle, and even though you correctly placed 9,999 of the 10,000 pieces, the picture is an imcomplete one.

We did see half a dozen sea eagles as we left Lillemolla this morning. They launched from the rocks along the shore as we passed (they seem to be much more skittish than the bald eagles back in Alaska) and in no time at all soared to great heights, circling on the updrafts in front of the island’s cliffs until they were just large specks on the cloudy sky.

Now we’re idling at the head of the fjord. A handful of guests have gone ashore for a short hike while another handful are fishing from the dinghy. I don’t know what the current game plan is but I’m hopeful we’ll do something to observe this evening’s solstice. I always try to mark the solstices and equinoxes, no matter where I am; it’s the last part of my so-called Zen Taoist New Testament pagan belief structure and part of my insistence that, regardless of ideology, race or nationality, we are all still human animals and part of this self-contained life-support system we call “the universe” and “Earth.” And the summer solstice is especially noteworthy here in the land of all-night winter darkness: having the all-too-brief light present 24 hours a day is worth celebrating.

Travel, Uncategorized, , , , , ,