Day 171. Russelv to Vagnes
Saturday, June 20th, 2009Distance 45km | Time 10hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m
It was still a tad windy when I got up around 0800. Frank and Ida Naess were up soon after and I chatted with Frank while Ida made the most wonderful breakfast of bacon and eggs. I felt a bit guilty about how well they were spoiling me. When I told them what I thought of their remarkable hospitality they said “That’s the way it should be”. You could tell quite easily that they both were extremely hard workers who had grafted all hours on the farm and various other businesses for 40 odd years to raise a large family.
By the time breakfast was over the wind had dropped to a force three. After a couple of coffees and more chat I got ready. Frank helped me carry the kayak to the water and after saying good bye I launched at midday and started south with the wind behind me.
Almost immediately I crossed the mouth of the small fjord called Nordlenangen, a small 3 km crossing. The waves were small and hardly breaking as I reached the far side and then started down the outside of the peninsula which created Nordlenangen. The sky was grey and overcast and there were showers everywhere.
The view to the Lyngen Alps was shrouded in mist and I could only see the stumps of the mountains and the large green valleys between them. Along the coast here was a fertile fringe of agricultural hamlets. In one of the fields cows were grazing in the fields.
Just before the hamlet of Hesjebukta I had to cross the mouth of another, almost identical small fjord, called Sorlenangen. Again the 3 km crossing was pretty easy but there was the odd larger white cap developing in the main Ullsfjord to the west. This larger fjord was my last main hurdle before Tromso.
I paddled down the outside of this second peninsula which created Sorlenangen to the farming hamlet of Ravik. The wind in Ullsfjord was still around force four and it was a crossing of just 10 km, a little under two hours. There was nothing worrying in the forecast so I decided to go at once rather than eat and dither.
On the far, west side of Ullsfjord was the steep mountain of Ullstind, 1094m. I could make out the birch forest around the base and then the heather slopes up to the rock fields which disappeared into the mist. I set my sights and veered away from land.
The crossing was not too bad. There was the occasional period where the wind threatened to increase to force five but they were short lived and generally it stayed at a force four and sometimes even a three.
Surprisingly on the crossing I encountered an unusual amount of puffins. At one stage the air was thick with them as hundreds of them circled round my kayak in a large radius. There seemed to be small rafts of them. I cannot imagine where there were nesting but assumed it was Fugleoya some 30 or 40 km to the north.
Generally as I approach puffins they swim towards the kayak for a few seconds. Then they turn and swim away casting nervous glimpses over their shoulder until I am 10-15 metres away. They then did their heads, perhaps in preparation to dive. Soon after they either dive or flap across the wave tops in a half flight half swim motion occasionally belly flopping into the sea.
After a good hour I could start to make out bunches of trees and copses on Ullstind and after an hour and a half I could see the individual trees. As I entered Grotsundet there was some confused waves but the further I paddled up the sound towards the hamlet of Snarby the more benign it got. Just before Snarby I pulled in for a stretch.
I noticed there was a campsite marked on the map in another 7-8 km at Skittenelv. I had visions of a quaint cabin and hot shower so I phoned them. They had both and a beach to land on also apparently. I said I would be there soon.
These 7-8 km down the south side of Grotsundet were easy. There was a slight wind against me and frequent rain showers but I made good time passing small hamlets built along the water’s edge. The barns here were getting bigger indicating more animals and more prosperous farmers. There were numerous beaches especially where small streams entered the sound from the high mountains to the south.
I soon reached Skittenelv at around 2100. I was appalled. The campsite was on a grassless field which had been created by bulldozing rubble into the sound. There was about 50 campervans, a hundred huts, garish waterslides and the beach was large stones. I went to have a look. The owners were a breed unto themselves. They had all the panache of brain-damaged bare knuckle fighters who had stop training years ago and lived off burgers, chips and beer since. Less dapper people you will not find in Norway. I don’t think they were Norwegian. It was a culture shock and not wanting to camp in among the campervans on the gravel surface I fled.
After half an hour with the bitter taste of Skittenelv receding I found a nice quiet beach. The tide was coming in and as I approached the weed a group of eider duck mothers took their newly hatch brood of ducklings out in a miniature flotilla. I found a good place to camp in a greasy area filled with wild chives and the twin flowers of the drooping water avens.
The tent was up and I was in my bag by 2200. The blog would have to wait until Tromso as it was just too difficult to write in the tent unless I really needed to. I fell asleep quickly listening to the rain patter off the tight flysheet
It had been a good day despite the weather. It was a shame I had not seen the Lyngen Alps from this side also but I had been well spoilt two days ago when I had seen perhaps the more spectacular east side in its full glory.