Though the weather now is a bit terrible, we have achieved our goal of getting through the “boring” section of the coast and are in the nice dramatic fjord section, where we can wait out strong winds. The nice weather still held as we sailed to Nordre Bjørnsund, though, and we had a pleasant sail downwind despite the swell from the previous day’s south wind. Our good luck gave out as we were sailing through a sketchy inner coastal route filled with many rocks and a winding route for ships, when our code zero severely ripped. We were trying to unfurl it when the top pinched and a small tear appeared, and as we tried to re-furl the sail to mitigate further damage, it ripped completely from the luff to leech and in many other directions. We eventually furled it then had to take it down, as it was still flapping about.

When we got into port, we began the lengthy process of attempting to remove the code zero from its furler on the rickety dock, interrupted several times when it started to rain, in order to assess the damage and see if we could fix it ourselves or if we needed to take it to a sail maker. We concluded that we need to take it to a professional, as it is torn completely in two and has many long tatters hanging off it. One of the locals, Otto, recommended a sailmaker in the nearby city of Ålesund, which we will travel to soon.

Nordre Bjørnsund is the most picturesque village I have ever seen. All the houses are super well-kept and decorated, with fresh coats of bright paint and ornate carvings in the trim. Arranged patterns of lupines and rose of sharons are in spirals in the gardens. The roads are made of shimmering white gravel, which must have been imported. It basically looks like a movie set. Apparently, the village was forced to resettle by the Norwegian government in the 1960s, so that only summer cottages are there now and no one lives there year-round. I don’t know whether the village is so idyllic in spite of or because of that.

For some reason, while the settlement is so well-kept and accessible, the visitors’ dock is in a separate section that requires a sketchy trip across steep slippery rocks and narrow crumbling breakwaters from the 1920s to reach the houses. There is also a walkway to a lighthouse in a third section of Nordre Bjørnsund which has many well-cared for and secured bridges and railings to access in contrast to the sketchy path to the visitors’ dock. It can apparently get super windy and wavy beyond the harbour, which is exposed to the whole Atlantic Ocean, and metal bridges going to the lighthouse are in the process of being repaired after the sea completely destroyed them, as well as one of the houses, which had been completely carried away by a storm.

We are currently in Svinøya to escape strong winds, although it is still pretty windy here and very rainy. I hid down below from the bad weather and decided to read an entire book in one day – I don’t know why – and now that I have done that I plan to read the entire sequel tomorrow. Though Blue Hour is in what appears to be a remote anchorage, there is a suburban town a short dinghy ride away which we decided to brave the weather to go to, partly due to the fact that we have been out of milk for a while and needed to buy more, and also because we had a sudden craving for pizza. We all got dressed up in our foul weather gear and must have looked very strange walking around town – Mum was wearing a droopy sou’wester and Dad a puffy and mouldy floater coat, all of which are at least thirty years old. I don’t regret this, though, because it was pouring rain and miserable outside and we needed the protection. We ordered pizza, which was difficult because the people in the restaurant didn’t speak English and we had to resort to pointing at pictures on a phone to order, then Mum and I looked for milk while Dad went shoe shopping with Jonas. Both of these activities proved to be more difficult than expected, as Dad tried on eight pairs of hiking boots before finding good ones, and Mum tried to go into a mall to get milk, found that it was closed, went into a convenient store but they didn’t have any, found an alternative route into the mall, realized the store in the mall was actually a department store, had trouble getting out of the mall, walked further to the grocery store, wasn’t able to pay, and had to send Dad there to purchase it instead. Then, after picking up the pizzas, we put them in garbage bags to keep safe from the rain and I held onto them for dear life as we violently splashed our way upwind back to Blue Hour. Luckily the pizzas still tasted good after reheating them in the oven.