2019.06 - North Sea Crossing to Norway
24 June 2019 | Picture: the Gjoa platform
Mid-summer's day: sunrise was at 0330 and sunset at 2230. That was all theoretical of course, because we hadn't seen much sign of the sun up here at 60 degrees North in Lerwick, Shetland, nor indeed much since we had sailed from Ardrossan, in the Firth of Clyde six weeks earlier. But, with only five hours of semi-darkness, it was a good time of year to be making an overnight passage to Norway. Egret was stored up and ready to go, her crew had done all the tourist stuff on the islands, and the weather, for a while at least, looked fair.
Next morning at 0745 we were casting off our lines when Bill Balme of the American yacht Toodle-oo rushed over to say hello and goodbye. We had last seen him and Laurie at Craobh Haven for an Ocean Cruising Club rally. They had arrived in Lerwick the previous evening, but would also soon be heading for Norway, so we made a pact to meet up again. We motored up the North Channel, but Port Control called us up with an instruction to wait for a large fishing boat to enter, "in case we confused them"; a bit annoying, as there was plenty of room for both of us to pass. Once clear of Bressay Island, we romped away under double-reefed main and genoa on a course of 075º, with 18-24 knots of wind on the starboard quarter. The impeller and line streaming astern were spinning energetically, churning out lots of useful amps from the Tow-Gen mounted on the push-pit. We hadn't used this useful device for quite a while.
We crossed the Greenwich Meridian at 1430, making a mental note to add an 'E' instead of a 'W' to the waypoint co-ordinates on our electronic plotter. The seas were building and it was beginning to rain. Just as we were settling down to eat spaghetti Bolognese for supper, there was a sharp crack from astern. I turned to watch most of the ensign staff disappear overboard, whilst the ensign was being rapidly wound into the Tow-Gen rope, eventually seizing it solid at the generator whilst the impeller continued to turn the rope into a horrible twisted mess. It must have caught the corner of the ensign as Egret yawed across a big wave. The tow-gen had pulled a few tricks on us during our voyage around the world, but never this one! Perhaps our current flag is larger than previous ones. We hastily but warily retrieved the line, but waited until after supper before untangling and redeploying it.
Our route across the North Sea was of necessity not a direct course as we needed to avoid the numerous oil and gas production platforms. At around midnight we passed between 'Dunbar' rig and its neighbour, and were able to gybe onto a new course of 055º. The wind had by now backed and eased considerably, and it wasn't long before we had to start the engine to maintain progress. We were aiming to pass 1 mile south of the 'Gjoa' platform, but its support vessel called us up to ask us to keep and extra half mile off. I think they just wanted someone to talk to, because a little while later a Norwegian RIB sped towards us and stopped a short distance away. After an anxious few moments, one of the crew hailed us saying "You have a very beautiful yacht! How has your passage been and where are you heading?"
Land Ho! The time was 1400, it was sunny, even warm, the breeze was gentle and the sea slight. Steep-sided islands, dramatic headlands and distant, snow-capped peaks gradually came into view. A small pod of orcas came past as we approached the first couple of outlying islands. The way into Florø was far from straightforward, and as we neared the town we encountered the additional hazard of dodging large numbers of powerboats, evidently leaving a party! It was mid-summer day, and the town's bonfire was still burning as we made fast alongside at the marina at 2130. (We were not surprised to read, after we got home, the statistic that Norway has the highest rate of leisure boating accidents in the world.)