The North Sea Passage! Lerwick to Ålesund

Wandering around Lerwick for a few days, enjoying the windy sunshine scattered with the occasional hail shower (yes, really!) and the company of others in and around the harbour was incredibly pleasant but the North Sea crossing was ever present in the back of our minds.  We were checking the Windy weather app three or four times a day, victualling (preparing food stores aboard) and comparing notes with fellow sailors.  

Hail one minute...

...rainbows the next.

Mentally, I was preparing myself also.  Having had varying success on the previous two passages, I knew it wasn't going to be my favourite activity but at the same time was excited by the prospect of accomplishment and also the adventures to come at the far side, reinforced by the accounts of others who had made the trip to Norway in previous years or were on their return journey from Norway back to the UK.  Therefore, I had mentally parcelled it up in my mind as 'an endurance event', one to get through, enjoy where possible but be satisfied in the knowledge that the end will feel superb!

As Tuesday arrived and the tail end of the depression was passing through a few hardy souls decided to go for it and head East.  Whilst it always leaves you wondering if you should have gone at that time also, casting off and leaving shore is always a decision personal to your boat, crew, time availability and ultimate decision.  We were content with our plans, but one boat made the difficult decision to return to the harbour for another night due to the persistent sea state.

One last quick check on the weather forecast on the Tuesday evening and that was us set - bar any significant changes we would be off soon after first light in the morning!  I took my pre-emptive Stugeron and settled down for the night.

0530hrs on Wednesday 28 May we, along with four other boats in the harbour, slipped our lines and headed northwards, up the channel between Lerwick and Bressay and towards the open expanse of the North Sea.  The sun was shining, the wind blowing 15-20 knots from the west and Evolene was gliding along under the power of the large genoa (foresail).  It felt a promising start.

Au revoir and thank you Lerwick

Stuart and I settled into an approximate watch pattern of 2 hours about and we got into a steady routine of updating each other at each handover, usually enjoying a small bite of to eat together, making sure to take on fluids and then leaving the other person to it whilst off watch.  The mid-cabin provides a lovely snug and 'sea berth' which is where the off-watch person would usually spend their time.

Evolene continued sailing well, averaging over 6 knots per hour.   The accompanying seabirds gradually tapered off as we progressed eastward with only the occasional fulmar weaving its way in and out of the waves with its impressive flypast in acknowledgement of the boat's presence.  The day was uneventful but the increasingly rolling conditions as the miles past eventually got the better of me.  Crazy as it sounds but I had really underestimated the physicality required with longer passages such as these.  Practically every minute we would be bracing ourselves in some direction as Evolene crested a wave and then slid down the other side and whilst the intensity lessened when resting in the mid-berth we still couldn't fully switch off.  Unfortunately, shortly after our warm dinner in the evening and with sunset approaching, the first of the oil platforms looming in the distance, the seasickness returned.  Stuart kindly but emphatically directed me towards bed, advising me not to get up until the morning and reassuring that all was manageable.

I crawled into the mid-cabin and curled up in the warm sleeping bed at least thankful that I had been able to provide him with some rest during the day previously and gratefully confident that he would be able to see us through the night.

With a patchy but incredibly welcome 8 hours rest (and having checked Stuart was doing okay midway through), I was feeling much better and positively bounded out of the cabin to hear what Stuart and Evolene had been up to.  We had just cleared the last of the oil rigs and Stuart said that he had 'great fun' avoiding a variety of fishing vessels and associated buoys/nets, oil rigs, partially dismantled oil rigs, dive support vessels and wind farms!  Whilst the 'great fun' was slightly tongue in cheek, I'm pretty sure he did enjoy it overall and it was a phenomenal achievement that he rightly should be incredibly proud of.

With the human-industrial paraphernalia cleared, nothing further on the horizon and Evolene sailing along moderately smoothly (or perhaps I had just got more used to the rolly-ness and feeling much refreshed), I was able to take the watch and allow Stuart to get some valuable rest time.  We settled once more into our watch pattern and whiled away the day, gently encouraging the miles to pass under the keel.  The wind came round to more on her beam, we unfurled the mainsail and this helped steady her for a large part of Thursday.  

By early afternoon we had done 200 miles since the start of the passage and had less than 70 to go to Ålesund.  At this point the wind started to weaken, as predicted, and we started the motor.  Prior to departure we had informed Norway Border Control of our planned arrival and were consequently booked in to attend the local police station of Ålesund at 1400hours on the Friday.  We realised this gave us time to wind our way into a beautifully protected anchorage on the northeast side of the infamous Statt penninsula and bed down for the night, after food whilst stationary (a real delight after the past couple of days!), wash and anchor dram.  

The Statt peninsula is situated at the corner of the Norwegian coastline where the west facing coastline meets the northwest facing one.  It is the only peninsula of mainland between Stavanger and Honningsvåg that protrudes out into the open sea without any surrounding islands breaking the waves.  Such are the treacherous conditions that it can create, plans are now in progress to construct a tunnel at the neck of the peninsula, large enough to allow large ships such as Hurtigruten vessels and cruise liners to pass through!  Therefore, when we arrived at our cosy little anchorage, despite the greyness of the weather, we were ecstatic.

Soggy Skipper

Picture-postcard Honningsvåg 

After a superb night's sleep and early rise the next morning, we were back on the way to Ålesund.  We wound our way through the inland channels, admiring the spectacular scenery and pretty villages and hamlets nestled at the foot of looming mountains above, reaching the charming town of Ålesund.  Border control appointment met, Norwegian courtesy flag flying and some celebratory fizz*, we are ready for the next phase of our adventures!

Attractive Ålesund

* the skipper is pleasantly surprised at the price of wine in the local vinmonopolet and therefore thinks that three months in Norway might not be so bad after all!