"The fire alarms have been sounded, please evacuate the airport".
Ok I am sorry I went to the loo. But when I got my tousers back on, I joined everyone else as we were herded - by beings called "Vektors" - down the long corridor of the 'airside' part of Oslo's main international airport. I had never seen a Vektor before, but they looked cheerfully menacing, like Trolls looking at a good meal.
So we were late getting airborne. It was a cloudless day and for over an hour flying north we marvelled at how empty Norway was - not a building, not a road, not a railway track to be seen. Tromso is a university town - the 'most northerly' of course - and a a tourist centre; so it is packed with hotels. Im not clear what exactly the tourists do once they have bought a sample of the delicious, but overpriced, shrimps from the market and admired the modern architecture of the townhall and the library. Still there were a lot of them doing it.
We shopped, saw all the sights and were ready to go by lunchtime. As the weather looked settled, and we had no weather forecast to worry us, we decided to sail the outside route and admire Senja's spectacular mountains and deep penetrating gorges - an area, so the cruising guide says that is regarded with awe by those Lofoten sailors that go this far North. We pitched up picking our way through the usual narrow channels towards our anchorage for the night when a highspeed Noregian Lifeboat moving at thirty knots on the plane came up on our stern. The passge was too narrow for them to pass us, so they patiently waited untill we were through, before opening up their engines and leaving us standing with a cheery wave. I hope it was just an exercise that they were on.
The next day we nearly collided with Cassiopea, under the command of Ulf, who had exchanged addresses with John and nearly tee-boned us (we were stand-on vessel) in his anxiety to find out who was stealing Voltair! We sailed in company with them for the rest of the day; full sail in a steadily strenghtening northerly breeze. On the way we passed a couple of Trolls, one hiding, lying on his back behind a mountain, and another trying to diguise himself as a rock; but they did not fool us for one minute. Escaping their clutches, we ended the day in Hamn, a former fishing harbour which claims to have been the second place in the World to have installed an electrical generating plant. They did it to enable their fish processing facility to operate through the winter in 1892 or whenever. Today there is a charming small harbour and a bright new hotel where you can have the 'Senja' experience and even a hot shower if you ask the pretty receptionist nicely. She even offered Maggie fresh towels - an offer which was firmly turned down in the true spirit of all navigators; we bring our own.
A third consecutive day of glorious sunshine and brisk winds had us exploring the open seas and islets that lie between Senja and Andoya, partly in the hope of spotting one of the whales that sometimes visit these parts, and partly for the fun of the remote navigation. Our scheduled lunch stop had to be abandoned as the 25 knot wind wistling over the rocks was incompatable with manoevring in the twisting 10 meter wide channels. Still, it produced some fine adrenalin-filled moments for us all. Our tea time stop produced a eagle hunting and maybe could have been a night stop, but for the noise of the wind in the rigging. Our actual overnight stop was in a coral bay with two anchors out, just a few miles north of where John had partied with zealously friendly natives on the way up. We came across no natives, possibly because,(we noticed as we left) it was inside a circle on the chart which was designated as a 'forbidden area', though what exactly was forbidden we never found out. Bee-keeping perhaps or consensual sex? The pilot did not mention anything about it except that it was a recommended anchorage. And I would recommend it too, especially now that it has the added excitement of offering forbidden pleasures.
With the sparkling northelies still blowing beneath a cloudless sky we creamed eastward the next day to enter the Vesteralen, the group of islands north of the Lofotens. From there we took the southward route carrying all before us. As it was a Friday, and because Maggie wanted a very long hot shower, we went the extra mile, or more precisely the extra 8 miles, and finnished up in Hennes, which had a cafe/pub that promised high jinks after hours - and the key to the showers. The showers were in the basement of the nearby large house, and the key was presumeably the house key. So what do you say when you open up the place to find someone, perhaps the owners daughter, lolling on the couch?
As Friday nights go, this was a near desaster. The only people in the Cafe/Pub were the wrong age (under 15) and the wrong gender (all male) and they had to be home by 10, so the Pub closed early. Voltairs crew however rolled back to the boat, put on the music, got out the whisky and developed ever more complcated rules for domino games which went on till 2 am and were all won by Dick - principal rule inventor.
With a gale warning out for Saturday we went inland and explored a couple of Fjords. They were exquisite! Lokkanfjord particularly had pleasant grassy beaches surrounded by birch trees with the backdrop of the great Moyalen, from the top of which, I am told, you can see the Lofotens to the South, Senja to the North and the Kebnekaise, Sweden's highest mountai to the East.
And so down Raftsundet with the tide, and into Trollfjord with the holiday makers. Back into tourist land after a week on our own. And the weather! It was so warm we had to go fishing in the dingy to cool off - and because we had run out of food. With four nice ones in the bucket we goose-winged down to Gullvika where we tucked Voltair into the moutain ringed bay and ourselves tucked into the fresh fish with near zero carbon miles.
How long can this weather last? We have eaten every evening in the cockpit; and this morning the cabin was 22 deg C by 9 a.m.. Some of the best sailing ever in what must be some of the worlds most spectacular scenery.
Must go now; need to start chilling the white wine.
Best wishes to you all
Maggie, Dick and Robin