Travel period: July 1 to July 15, 2023
Route: Trondheim to Bodø | Boat: Ovni 43 | Crew: Isabelle, Nadine (skipper), and me
A departure into a new adventure
On July 1, 2023, my sailing trip began in Trondheim. I was excited, curious, and full of anticipation. My Airbnb host was kind enough to take me directly to the harbor. There, I met Nadine, our skipper, for the first time. Since I was a little early, we used the time to sort through the nautical charts for the coming days. When Isabelle arrived, we completed our crew and went shopping together. It felt like the start of a small adventure with a broader horizon.
Improvisation with depth – The magnetic moment
We were originally supposed to set off the next day at noon. But shortly before departure, an accident occurred that put our creativity to the test. Nadine lost her visor mount in the harbor basin. The piece was essential for protection against the rain and now lay nine meters below the bottom. None of us wanted to spend the trip in the constant rain, so it was time to save what we could.
At first, we tried using a net, improvised from a piece of underwear, attached to a fishing hook. Unfortunately, it didn't work. I suggested trying a magnet. It was a good idea, but of course, we didn't have one on board. So I started walking around the harbor area with one goal in mind: to find a magnet somewhere. My hopes faded with every meter until I came to a docked cruise ship.
I had already given up hope, but I gathered courage and approached a sailor and explained our problem to him. Sure enough, he had a magnet and lent it to me. It was one of those little moments of happiness you don't plan for but never forget.
Back on the boat, we attached the magnet to the fishing rod with tape and first tested it on a spare piece of metal. The magnet held. Then we carefully lowered it into the water. We didn't really expect it to work, but after a few minutes, we felt resistance. And there it was: the mount we thought we'd lost. We pulled it up and cheered like little children. A true team moment that brought us all closer together and a successful start to our trip.
On the road with calm, beer and first maneuvers
After this, we finally set off. The wind was light, so we sailed north with engine support. We docked in Sjursvika and invited two Norwegians, Morten and Joachim, on board for a beer. The atmosphere was relaxed, we laughed a lot, and the first day of sailing ended comfortably.
The next morning, I was allowed to set sail independently for the first time. I took the helm, informed the crew about the wind, started the engine, and gave the commands to cast off. It was my first maneuver of this kind, and it went smoothly. I was proud and motivated.
Rain, waves and seasickness
On the fourth day, a long day of sailing with difficult conditions awaited us. High waves, rain, and a constantly shifting wind challenged us. We sailed between 4-5 Beaufort, and the high waves were a challenge. Isabelle wasn't feeling well; she became seasick while I was at the helm for almost eight hours. Rest was hardly an option, as we were constantly maneuvering and adjusting course. The few boats in sight reminded us how lonely this area could be. In the evening, we reached the small harbor of Sadnes, completely exhausted but satisfied.
Learning curves and course changes
The next day we sailed from Seter to Rørvik. The journey was long, about ten hours, and challenged my concentration. We had to tack between many small islands, and once I misjudged a narrow entrance. Our only option was to turn around to avoid running into shoals. The waters were challenging, but every mistake was also a new lesson. Arriving in Rørvik, we were relieved. We planned the next leg and hoped for some calmer days.
New jacket, new strength
In Rørvik, I finally treated myself to a proper sailing jacket—red with a yellow hood, as befits a female sailor. And that was a good thing. Because as we continued sailing toward Leka, fog rolled in, the temperature dropped, and the wind died down. Without this jacket, I would have been freezing cold, and in the summer, too.
At the Arctic Circle
On July 11th we sailed from Lovund to the Arctic Circle.
Our destination was a small island north of the 66th parallel, right where the Arctic Circle sculpture stands. We wanted to briefly disembark on this island to see the famous Arctic Circle statue up close and take some photos. It was a magical moment to dock there—in a place so geographically and symbolically special. Isabelle and I climbed into the dinghy and headed over to the island. But then, just as we were taking a few photos, our skipper suddenly called out loudly from the boat. The dinghy had broken free and was beginning to drift away. Without thinking twice, we ran down to the bay, I took off my shoes and leggings, took a deep breath, and jumped into the 10-degree water. I swam as fast as I could, the adrenaline practically pushing me forward. It was cold, but I knew we wouldn't be able to get back without the boat.
Luckily, the dinghy wasn't far away, and I managed to reach it and pull it back to shore. Soaking wet, but relieved. We laughed about it later, but in the moment, it was just pure instinct combined with a dose of madness.
The moment of standing on that small island, soaked yet overjoyed, will remain unforgettable for me. We had crossed the Arctic Circle, not just geographically but also emotionally.
Orcas, glaciers, goosebumps
Two days later, we experienced another highlight: We spotted orcas. Completely alone at sea, just the three of us and these majestic animals. An incredible sight, accompanied by respect and a touch of fear. We set a course along the coast as recommended and sailed on to the Svartisen Glacier.
Arriving at the Svartisen Glacier, we met a guide by chance who offered us a glacier hike with full equipment. It was breathtaking. We trudged across the eternal ice with spikes and ice axes. Snow, sun, sail, and glacier all in one day—I was overwhelmed. And tired, because the journey continued immediately after the hike—we sailed straight through until midnight.
The final stage
After sailing across the glacier, we continued on to Sørfuglo, a small harbor without restrooms but with plenty of charm. From there, we began our final leg to Bodø. The sky turned gray, the rain returned. We docked together, cleaned the boat, and gazed silently at the water. Our journey was over, but something new was beginning within me.
What I took with me
This trip was more than a journey. I learned to sail, navigate, use the radio, freeze, cook, make mistakes, and gain courage. I experienced team spirit, made friends, and learned that sometimes you just have to jump in at the deep end—literally.
I'll never forget this trip. And I know: The sea gave me back something I wasn't even looking for: peace, strength, and a feeling of home.
0 comments