Ski and Paddle Norway 2009

Distance 20km | Time 5.5hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m

I got up at 0800 and was out of biscuits for breakfast so had a pack of chilli nuts. I started packing up the tent around 0900. A number of the sheep grazing in the pine forest nearby came down to investigate and hoped I had some biscuits or salt.

It was an exceptionally nice camp spot with a great view across the bay to the south side of Askrova from the beach on the west of side of the much smaller Tansoy. I set off at 1000 and paddled out of the bay between islands heading south. The islands here had a many copses of pine and spruce on them.

It was a beautiful still morning as I started to head across Stavfjord. It was the outer part of the long and deep Fordefjord which cut inland for some 50 km. As a consequence there was a bit of a tide flowing into the fjord which I noticed.

I was crossing a shipping lane where the occasional catamaran ferry went so I decided to cross it and head to the hamlet of Holevik on the peninsula opposite rather than the tip of the peninsula. About half way across the wind suddenly got up and it was soon a force four. I had to stop and put a jacket on as I was getting soaked in the spray. The last 4 km took well over an hour as I slowly pulled myself towards this hamlet.

There was nowhere to land when I got there so I had to paddle round the tip of the peninsula and then past another hamlet called Stavenes. There were a couple of islands here and just enough depth of water for the kayak to pass through the calm sheltered sunny sounds. I had lunch here before heading down the sound to Askvoll. The tide was definitely going out as I had lunch.

As I set off down the sound the wind returned and I had to put the jacket back on. Curiously I noticed that the tide was now against me heading north. There are so many local variations with the tides it is best to ignore them.

I paddled across Strongfjord with its steep sides and a green mantle along the shore where there were active farms. This fjord cut deep into the high mountain plateau surrounding it for a good 10 km. It was typical green summer fjord landscape and looked off a postcard.

After crossing Strongfjord I was back in the sound between the mainland and the island of Atloy. The wind and current were still against me and when I relaxed and leaned back and paddled less vigourously I was down to about 3 km per hour in the force four against me. When I noticed I sat up and paddled hard for a few minutes but I was soon slouching again.

Eventually I got to the bottom of the sound and headed east to the quiet peaceful town of Askvoll. I needed to stop here to buy the supplies to Bergen. There was someone standing on the jetty so I asked him where the shop was. He spoke perfect Norwegian but was British.

We started chatting. He was an outdoor instructor called Rich Lennox and lived in Bergen 2 weeks and then worked here as the ambulance boat driver for 2 weeks. He had paddled much of Norway’s coast. We chatted for a good half hour at the jetty before I landed the boat to go and shop.

Richard lived beside the jetty so I went for a tea. An hour later I decided that stay in Askvoll and sleep on his balcony overlooking the water. I went to the shop and had a look round the town. It seemed an old traditional town which was quite a sleepy holiday place in the summer.

After shopping I went to have a look round the ambulance boat. There were two of them which served the outlying islands where some 500 people lived. The council paid nearly half a million pounds a year to have these two boats on standby with a crew of two always on call. Each boat had 1600 horse power engines and could even operate in force eleven gales.

In the evening Richard cooked supper while I wrote the blog and then we chatted more. He knew the coast between here and Bergen and beyond to Bomlo like the back of his hand and gave me a lot of good tips about the more scenic and interesting ways to go.

It had been a short day and the headwind disappeared in the late afternoon so I had squandered a good three hours paddling. However it was good to meet Richard hear about his previous outdoor work in Scotland and Bergen and his present job hurtling around the islands here in all weathers at 40 knots.

Distance 35km | Time 9.5hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m

I slept well in the comfortable bed and did not get up until 0800. It was then the usual camping breakfast of biscuits and blackcurrant juice. Simple, sweet and easy. I took a bit of time packing up and eventually had the boat loaded and ready by 1000. The wind was a force 3 south westerly and the tide was also against me so I was in no hurry as both were destined to change in my favour later.

I went up to say goodbye and thanked Johanna Gulestø for her kindness and the great cottage, which was once the old homestead home. The cottage was over 100 years old. I eventually set off at 1030.

The going was very slow for the first two hours as I slowly pulled my way round the peninsula. If I stopped to take a photo I was suddenly 50 metres back again with the tide and wind against me. My average speed was just 3.5 km per hour. Still it was a great day weatherwise except for the wind with blue skies and sea views which were getting better and better. As I went round the peninsula various islands appeared.

The shoreline here was rock and grass with a few birch trees but as I paddled past the bay of Botane pines became more and more frequent until the whole shoreline was a thick pine forest. It was very green in the sun. While on the west side was the island of Hovden with its out-of-sight bird colony and numerous other islands all the way down to Alden with the distinctive Norske Hesten mountain on it. I felt like I was back in Helgelandskyst.

With progress slow I stopped early for lunch and a stretch at Husefest. Here there was a small hamlet and a shallow inlet. The fields were not cut and the tall grass was rippling in the wind but the houses and boat sheds were well maintained. The inlet was full of the very yellow seaweed which contrasted well with the emerald green pine forest.

I left here and continued south. After a short time I met a kayaker coming towards me. He was Ole Fredricksen. He had come from Bergen and was heading up to Lofoten for a month’s jaunt. We started chatting and he did the same Rope Access work (Tilkomstteknikk) which I used to do for a decade on the oil platforms. It basically involves a lot of abseiling and climbing up ropes to reach the inaccessible work place, where one then has to do the task. We chatted for a good half hour and I took his mobile number to send him tips.

The rest of the coast down to Arebrot was much the same except the wind was easing and the tide was now with me for what it was worth. There were a few islets at Arebrot which added to the Helgelandskyst feel.

I now had a small fjord to cross to reach Florø. It was only about 3 km but Florø was a town of about 10000 and with the outlying islands there was a lot of boat traffic. I crossed without any boats or ships coming near me. Florø looked quite a pleasant place with a great location. There was a huge shipbuilding shed at the east end of town and another factory on the tip of the peninsula in the west. The islands, both near and far made up for this industry.

By now the wind was veering to the north and was behind me. I had made slow progress so far today and needed to paddle to Tansoy at the south end of the island of Askrova to get a respectable day. Ole recommended the place to me and had spent the night here.

I left through the maze of islands just south of Florø and then started paddling across the 3 km to a small cluster of islands called Oddane. They were flat and covered in heather and all the islets were ringed with seaweed. Had there been more beaches it would have been Helgelandskyst again.

From here it was another 3-4 km to the east coast of Askrova island. Askrova was a beautiful lush island with plenty of pine forest, especially at the south end. It was surrounded by large basins of water and other islands. While on the mainland were the steep mountains on the south side of the large Fordefjord.

I got to the south end and started looking for somewhere to camp. I paddled through the sound between Askrova and Tansoy which was a charming area. There were old fish wharfs and boathouses, a country shop, many older houses in green fields full of sheep and a bridge to connect the islands which could be lowered and raised to let sailing boats past.

I could not see anything here but nearby was a beach with a flat grazed green field. It was perfect. I paddled over and at 2000 I put up the very wet tent for it to dry in the evening sun. It soon had everything sorted and the camping equipment which got so wet at Indre Fure was laid out drying. I started to write at 2130 and was done by 2330 by which time it was almost pitch dark.

It had been a good day but it was a slow and lethargic start in the morning. I was lucky to find such a nice camp spot on the west side on Tansoy.

Distance 36km | Time 7.5hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m

It was a slow start this morning as breakfast was not until 0900. When it arrived at 0900 it was worth waiting for. In addition to all the fresh bread and homemade jams there was also smoked salmon and scrambled egg. There were 8 guests in all and it was a long sociable chatty breakfast.

I did not start packing up until 1030 and by the time I had said my goodbyes and packed the boat it was 1200. I had enjoyed the stay here at Ulvsund fyr; it was a friendly easy going place.

Initially I paddled south down Ulvsund sound for some 8 km until I reached the town of Maloy. There was a bit of industry down each side of the sound especially on the west side at the village of Raudeberg, where there was a large trawler repair workshop with about 8 trawlers tied up and 2 more in a huge shed.

Maloy itself seemed to be a town of at least 5000 people. It had a number of industries but again fishing seemed to be the main one. A few shipping lines had wharfs and offices here like Green Reefers and Norlines. A lot of the older shipping wharfs were starting to fall into disrepair.

I could not really work the tide out at all and could not see if it was flowing of ebbing. It seemed to be against me and then with me as I went under the bridge which did not make sense.

When I reached Nordfjord I turned east up the fjord. Nordfjord is a very long narrow fjord which goes from the coast and follows a deep slot for some 125 km into the heart of the glaciated mountains. I had to cross it from Maloy to the south side passing a couple of islands in the fjord. This crossing was also part of the coastal shipping lane and 3 ships chugged past me here.

As I paddled across the water the classic views and landscapes one associates with the fjord region unfolded. There were very high steep mountains on each side of the fjord. These craggy grey mountains had lower slopes which were covered in birch forest and grass. Here and there were small wispy waterfalls.

This became even more so when I reached Rugsundoy island. On the south side of the fjord was a mountain called Hornelen which rose almost vertically from the fjord for 800 metres.

I paddled between Rugsundoy island and this looming precipice for a few kilometers with the tide helping me along and giving me an extra 2 km per hour. I could still not work out if it was rising or falling, which meant flowing into Nordfjord or draining from it past this island in into another branch out to the sea. I was heading for this branch myself and hoped the current would carry me down the branch and out into Froysjoen. As I paddled down under the very impressive Hornelen it started to rain but it was very calm.

When I reached the branch south to Froysjoen I took it and paddled through a very grey landscape. It had not been long since the ice sheets and glaciers withdrew from here and virtually no soil or vegetation had accumulated since it retreated. The whole landscape was precipitous grey ice-scoured rock except for a few estuaries where tumbling rivers carried some silt down.

Two of these estuaries were Vingen and Vingelva. Here hemmed in by the fjord were two green oases in the grey rock. On each of them was an isolated farm with no access other than boat on the fjord. Both farms were surely just summer houses now and it would have been few decades since the hay here was cut. Some 250 to 150 years ago Norway’s population grew and people were forced to come to such places and clear the land and try and sustain themselves.

Remarkably beside Vingen farm is one of the largest collections of rock carvings in Norway, with about 1500 figures. They are called Helleristnings. They were made by stone age hunter gatherers some 4000 to 6000 years ago. The motifs are of deer, humans and some abstracts. Unfortunately I did not go over the fjord to see them, as time was always pressing.

I paddled down the deep grey fjord to the island of Hennoy. Here there was a hamlet of some 4-5 farms which like Vingen and Vingelva just along the coast were hemmed in by fjord and mountain. There was an isolated section of road of about 2 km along the shore connecting the farms but leading nowhere else. I saw an old tractor driving along it. All the fields had high ungrazed and uncut grass so I suspect that all 5 farms and the associated cabins were just summer leisure homes now. It was an isolated but idyllic spot.

It was too early to stop here so I decided to continue to south west down Froysjoen and at least cross the side fjord called Gulen. It did not take long with a slight back wind but I could now see the tide was slightly against me as it was flooding up Froysjoen. As I crossed Gulen the wind went from force two from the north east to force four from the south west and the last two km were slow.

All the way down Froysjoen I had seen very few places to camp so when I reach Gulestøa I was reluctant to continue for fear of not finding anything for many kilometers. The trouble was Gulestøa was perfect but any campspot would encroach onto the farms privacy. I decided to go and ask.

Johanna Gulestø opened the door before I reached the house. I asked her if I could camp and she said I could use a cabin. She took me down and showed it to me. It was better than perfect. She put the heating on and made it warm and comfortable. She said a couple of other kayakers had used it a week before – two very wet Swedish girls. It turned out it was Evelyn and Klara. It’s a small world. They said Johanna was an Angel without wings and I would have to agree.

Johanna Gulestø had three grown up sons and they used the cabin occasionally. She had just lost her 70 year old husband a year ago. The cabin was old and traditional. Inside were pictures of the Gulestø family and farm going back at least 100 years. It is not surprising Norwegians are so patriotic when they have such a sense of belonging to a place.

I wrote the blog in comfort while the rain poured outside, had supper and a shower and then used the comfortable bed and cotton bedding the girls used a week before.

It had been a very good day. The kayaking got more impressive as I left Ulvsund and Maloy. The weather was mostly OK and the cabin at the end was just the icing on the cake, if not the cake itself. God bless Johanna Gulestø.

Distance 0km | Time 0hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m

I got up late without any urgency. The breakfast of homemade bread and many types of homemade jams was at 0900. It was a social affair with me chatting to the other guests and those who worked here, and Solvi who ran the place.

I then spent much of the morning and afternoon writing. It was good to have a free day in such nice surroundings where I could get tucked into the writing. I might have gone overboard a little with the amount I wrote on Day 211, but it was an eventful day. There were a few books here in the library and I could find some information on Stad from them.

In the afternoon I continued to write despite the fact it was a nice day outside. I moved from my room in the cellar which was very nice, but too secluded to the living room where there were a few people coming and going. Some more guests arrived and I chatted with them before writing more. Eventually around 1700 I was done and had uploaded all. I now had a free evening.

I sent a couple of emails before supper and made a few phone calls then went upstairs for food. Solvi has made a fish stew. If you had replaced the cod for smoked haddock it would have been the same as Cullen Skink, a traditional Scottish fish stew. There were about 10 other dinner guests.

After supper Solvi the host and the keeper of the lighthouse gave all the guests a short presentation of the history of the lighthouse since it was built in 1870 through to 1985 when the last lighthouse keeper left and the light became automatic. With no one living here the garden quickly became overgrown and the salty air soon started to peel the paint and rust the hinges.

In 2003 she contacted the Kystverket, who owner the lighthouse, and suggested restoring the building and opening it as a café and guesthouse. They agreed and she restored the building, tidied up the productive berry fruit garden and now runs a lively successful business there.

I went to bed quite early for a change and was refreshed for the next leg down to Bergen where I should be in a week. As the crow flies it is only 180 km so in reality that is probably around 250 km, with most of it through sheltered waters with the occasional fjord crossing, but nothing of Finnmarks dimensions

It had been a relaxing day in nice surroundings, but perhaps a bit too long in front of the screen.

Distance 15km | Time 3hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m

When I woke my shoulders were tired, it was a bit breezy but the rain was pelting onto the taught ripstop of the tent. I was not getting up in this just yet. I had earnt a lie in yesterday. When I finally considered getting up it was around 1030 but the rain was still pelting onto the tent.

I looked at the weather forecast and it warned that there would be a lot of rain today ‘Sor fra Stad’ which is where I now was. I also said the wind would remain low until mid afternoon when it would get up to a force five.

I considered writing the blog but then thought I would be better of crossing the 8-9 km of open sea across Sildagapet and continuing south for another 5-6 km to a lighthouse which offered accommodation at the north of Ulvsund. I found a number and phoned and arranged to stay. It was hard to hear the phone with the rain lashing the tent.

I managed to pack up everything and get into most of my drysuit before getting out of the tent. With the drysuit on and everything in dry bags except the tent it did not matter about the rain any more. I carted every down to the waterline and took down the tent. Just then a small dingy appeared.

Out of the dingy stepped Kjell Fure, the husband of Marit who had the nice garden and I had spoken to last night. Kjell was an old sea dog and knew the area intimately. I later read he was involved in a few rescues of helpless fishermen along this coast. He showed me inside his boathouse or naust. It was like a museum with old boats hanging from the roof, huge cognac barrels which had drifted ashore and were used to salt fish. Fishing nets, longlines and glass buoys hung from rafters and there was a large stack of Walkers wooden fish boxes which had been collected from the shore through the decades. Told him the place reminded me of Scotland and he said everybody says that.

He explained to me Indre Fure was a unique hamlet in that it was a ‘Klyngetun’. Usually in Norway houses are spread out but here the 5 or 6 houses and the barns were all clustered together. This is because it was the only safe place to live as there was danger from avalanche and falling stones elsewhere.

When it was finally 1330 I started to set off. By now the wind was up to a force three with the odd force four gust. After yesterdays achievement I was perhaps getting a bit blasé and over confident. However in reality I still had some of the piece of ocean called Stadhavet to paddle over.

As I pulled out beyond the breakwater the reality hit. It was now a force four and the rain was so heavy it was impossible to see the land on the other side. I took a bearing and set off. After a km I considered turning back as the swell was a good 3 metres and many of the tops were breaking. I still had another 6-7 km to go before I reached some shelter again. However sitting upright and paddling strongly I was making good time.

I paddled a good 40 minutes with the waves coming from the side and frequently breaking onto the kayak. The white caps were never really more than 30 cm high when they broke and the stable boat I was in plus the odd support brace could handle that. Suddenly the sea in front of me was filled with large breaking waves, some with well over a meter of white cap and green water which the boat and support braces could probably not handle.

I realized that I must be approaching another shoal, but was surprised there should be one out here in the middle of the ocean. I could not go through so decided to veer east and go down wind round to side of this turbulent area. I felt much happier however sideways to the waves where I could see them coming and react accordingly rather that hearing them coming up behind me.

After 200 metres I was round these shoals which I later found out were called Dragefallet and continued south. By now I had changed my plans to go directly south to Skogsnes Fyr lighthouse and instead decided to head to the lee side of the island of Silda whose grey form was starting to emerge from the rain some 4-5 km to the south east.

It only took another hour before I was rounding the surf fringed islet on the north of Silda island and was in the relative calm of the lee of the island. I took a photo with my camera – which is not waterproof or even resistant and then continued to paddle down the east of the island.

A Great Skua, a brute of a bird, which is so far been quite rare here, came to eye me up. Sometimes these fearless birds will hang on to the wing of a gannet while the two tumble to the sea and until the gannet drops or disgorges its catch which the skua will then steal. It will peck smaller birds to death eating just the tastiest morsels.

It was pouring rain but still Silda looked a nice place. I spotted some King Scallop (Pectin maximus) (Kamskjell) farming equipment on the jetty and would have liked to have chatted with the owner of it having tried to farm them myself on the Isle of Skye for a couple of years until I realized the hopeless economics of it. There was a nice harbour with the entrance guarded by a topless mermaid. There was even a pub and café but I was not sure if there was any accommodation or not.

It was only 2 km across the bay to Ulvsund Fyr lighthouse. I could see it clearly. But there was a wind coming up the Ulvsund sound which must have been approaching a force eight. I was barely moving and the 2 km took nearly an hour. I was being covered in salt spray the whole time which was rinsed of by the heavy rain.

At last I reached the lighthouse jetty at about 1630 and unloaded the boat and carried it up beside a shed. I then carried all the necessary items up to the lighthouse keeper’s cottage. This was hired by Solvi and she had built up a successful business with a café and accommodation. It was the first lighthouse project I had seen which was successful. Helnes Fyr and Tranoy Fyr seemed deserted after the business went bankrupt. I suppose the advantage here was it had a road to it.

The interior was very nicely done and the place had a very cool, relaxed vibe. There were a few other calm guests here who could enjoy the fruit teas rather than the beer. It was a nice surprise and as soon as I saw it I decided I could spend an extra day here catching up with the writing and browsing the small library.

After a cod dinner I looked at my photos from the last days and was disappointed that splashes of water had affected many and then crashed out around 2300.

It had been an exciting day, but it was incredibly wet. I ended up in a comfortable friendly lighthouse keeper’s house.