Fram Strait – this and that

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

Just some random images. Some of my own that I haven’t use yet, one not taken by me and some more from the last days.

15 October – the moonpool

If you have ice around the ship, it is good to have a moon pool, a vertical shaft inside a ship to give access to the sea. Here you can deploy CTDs without them being crushed by ice floes on the way up. Today temperatures got into double digits – in the negative range – and the surface of the moon pool has been freezing. The CTD itself is somewhere in the water below the ship, but no CTDs were harmed.

Every day – the food

If you are on a cruise with the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon there is a good chance that you gain weight. The meals are outstanding and sometimes the lunch provides more variety than a normal restaurant has on the menu. And then there are the Saturday dinners with steak and vegetables and potatoes and gravy. Now I’m flying back to Tromsø and that’s good, because one another week on the ship and I would just burst while eating.

25 October – clearing the ice

Sometimes the sea ice is welcome, for example for an ice station. Sometimes it is very unwelcome, for example for the recovery or deployment of a mooring, a “Christmas tree” of instruments on a long cable anchored in the ground and usually staying untouched for a year. Several times we had to change plans, because the ice was too compact and thick. However, sometimes we used the icebreaker to push away the ice, building an ice-free pool round the mooring’s location. That can look pretty funny on the navigation screen, where the ship’s track is displayed.

26 October – ice station

One day later there is an opportunity for another ice station; the tenth and last on this year’s Fram Strait cruise. I fly the drone again. Lia Lechler (UiT) from the sea ice team makes this nice photo where I am just about to start sending the drone up to an altitude of about 80 metres.

27 October – it clears up

It was not easy to find a window to fly the drone the day before, because it drizzled for a long time. But today there is a clearer day in our cruise’s roller coaster weather. It looks like a sunrise or sunset but it is neither, because it is polar night and the sun stays below the horizon all day long.

30 October – arrival in Longyearbyen

After doing measurements in Kongsfjorden we do measurements in Isfjorden today. After dinner we have our expedition de-brief. Shortly after the last of 98 CTD casts is finished and we steam to Longyearbyen, where we started the expedition 17 days ago. Then it’s time to go out, feel the ground under our feet, walk to town and grab a beer.

31 October – rainy

The town looks quite dull, because it has +7 °C – much too warm for the season – and the snow in the valley has melted. It is raining.

1 November – travelling back

Today it has become a bit colder and the rain turned into snow. Good for Longyearbyen, bad for our flight, which departs with a delay of 35 minutes. There are at least 16 people from the cruise on board this airplane and I cross my fingers that everyone gets their connecting flights, whether they go to Norway, France, Denmark, or in Scotland.

And if I get my flight, I’ll be back in Tromsø at 20:55.

I got it :-)

Daily weather changes and another ice station

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

18 October

Oh, what lovely weather we have on the ice station. After I have done my job, I take the opportunity to take a photo from the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon by drone.

That was 13:00. Six hours later, the weather has changed. It is snowing and the crosswind on the helicopter deck is so massive that I do not dare to step out more than one metre. I take a shot to the front and a very blurred selfie and go inside again.

19 October

As predicted, the weather has become worse. When I am on the deck again after lunch, wind speeds have increased to something between 22 m/s and 28 m/s and the temperature has dropped to -8 °C. So I take the selfie in the wind-protected hangar.

But I am in a luxury position. Most of my work here is computer work, done in the heated Conference Work Room. Others have a much tougher job. They are recovering a mooring. Although the cable is one of the shorter ones, it takes around two hours until the mooring is recovered, because the elements keeps tangling up the cable. This is outside work on deck 3, with overalls, helmets, balaclavas and goggles in storm conditions and wind chills below -20 °C. So, it’s not me who should complain about the weather.

Later in the evening, the weather becomes even more severe, with wind gusts above 30 m/s and temperatures dropping below -10 °C. A very good time to stay inside even when taking photos. So I take photos through the windows from the bridge. On the starboard side, the storm batters the ship with snow. On the port side, the snow swirls in all possible directions.

20 October

The next morning, the weather has changed again, this time for the better. It has become colder, with temperatures of -13 °C, but the storm is gone and so has the snowfall.

An ice station is planned. I will join it later, when the wind has decreased even more and it is a bit brighter outside. Although our position is -9.5° W, our ship time is Norwegian time and so sunrise is around noon. Around 10 o’clock, I stand on the ice with the drone I intend to fly. Will it work when it is still dawn?

Yes – it works! The ship provides a lot of light that illuminates the ice. Not only for working but also for the team on the bridge that is looking for polar bears. While their job is harder at dawn, my drone flies well, although it detects obstacles in the air that are not there.

When the sun finally rises, it is pretty spectacular. In high latitudes, it seems more to roll over the horizon than to lift up.

And the colours are incredible. The snow-covered ice floe we are in shows many colours but not white.

After lunch, the ice station is continued and have the opportunity for another flight. Some shots from the side:

Then I stayed outside to learn a bit about the calibration of the GEM2, an electromagnetic instrument that is used for measuring the thickness of snow and ice.

However, I do not fly the drone for leisure but to make orthophotos that show the ice situation from above. For that, I have to take many pictures and then – back on the ship – use both traditional image editing and special software to stitch the images together. The morning orthophoto was stitched together from 125 images, the afternoon one from 255 images. That took about an hour of processing on a fast computer.

Especially the latter photo has a good image resolution. Do you see the scientists out there with the GEM2 on a pulka sled in the photo below? It is taken from the orthophoto above.

The next day another ice station is planned.

21 October

… but never set up. First the visibility was too poor and then it was too windy. I couldn’t have flown a drone anyhow because first it was snowing and then, with rising temperatures, it was raining. So a lot of other work was done instead.

So – another ice station tomorrow? Actually, that’s planned. Tomorrow I’ll know a bit more.

 

A mooring, ice stations and the sun

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

16 October

The polar bear is gone. The dinner has been eaten. Now it is time to recover F12, another mooring which is underwater and has measured a variety of values for 14 months. The ship’s echo sounder has already located it, so it has “only” to be released from the ground. There is only one issue – there is a lot of ice and to recover the mooring, open water is needed. The helmsman has already circled the icebreaker several times to create an ice-free area. When the mooring is finally released, the air-filled buoy pops up in the water, just two metres away from the searchlight. Chapeau! I mentioned in the last article the joint effort that is needed to get such a mooring with more than 1800 metres of Kevlar cable equipped with instruments from the sea onto the ship.

17 October

When there is ice, it’s an opportunity for an ice station. Again, this is teamwork. Besides the scientists on the ice, you need a polar bear guard with a rifle on the ice and three bridge watches on the bridge on deck 8 that are constantly observing the surroundings for polar bears, cracks in the ice, fog coming up, and other potential dangers. I handle the communication between the bridge and the team on the ice, and luckily nothing happens. The only thing I have to do is to keep track of the people who are on the ice.

There are my things: A bottle of water, my own binoculars (I have had them for more than 40 years), a VHF radio for communication and a notebook with a ballpen for taking notes.

I haven’t seen the sun for days, but now, while I am taking the second shift, the sun is rising from a low layer of clouds on the horizon. I can see its reflections in the windows on the other side of the bridge while the ice team works in the ship’s shadow.

For the rest of the day, I do computer work but interrupt it several times just to go outside and take some photos from the helicopter deck, which is on deck 6 at the bow of the ship. You never know how long the good weather will last. I am there while the sun is shining, I am watching the sllloooowww sunset, and I am there in the evening, when it is the ship that is illuminating the ice.

I am already in bed when I see a post in our group chat mentioning Jupiter and Mars. I put my down clothes over my pyjama, put the helmet on my head and go out onto the “helideck” one last time for the day. The night is starry and there they are: Both Jupiter and Mars near the horizon, accompanied by many stars. But there are also big spotlights, which make the view somehow special. The stars are slightly out of focus, but I am showing a photo nevertheless.

18 October

Another day – another ice station. I will do the first bridge watch and then go onto the ice myself to fly a drone. Around 10 o’clock, the team enters the ice.

Two things are certain on an expedition with the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon. All meals are on time. Everything else may and will change. This time, it is a crack in the ice that I observe. I inform the team on the ice. I have to give several updates, because more and more cracks appear. After less than half an hour, both the team and their equipment are safely back on board, and the ice station is aborted. Between the first and the last of the following photos lie 18 minutes.

After lunch – the second try. I may join the team in the beginning, because, although the conditions for drone flying are not the best (mediocre visibility, low temperatures, high humidity), the winds will increase in the afternoon. It’s now, or never.

Fifteen minutes later, I am on the sea ice. At first, I let the drone fly at an altitude of only 2-3 metres for two minutes. I land it and check the propellers. Are they free and able to move? Is there visible icing? What about the battery? Luckily, everything looks fine. With a new battery I lift the drone up to 65 metres to fly a zigzag pattern to get a mosaic of photos to be stitched together later. The flying itself works pretty well, although I get some wind warnings on the display of my remote control. I have some minor issues with the camera gimbal and take another flight to get some backup photos. At the very end I take a snapshot of our icebreaker.

And a selfie or two. I am wearing a survival suit and a helmet from the Norwegian Polar Institute, a woollen sweater I bought in Longyearbyen two years ago and a balaclava knitted by my friend Christine.

When I have finished, I leave the sea ice. After redressing and a small break I take another bridge watch. Nothing happens, and so it should be. The exciting part comes thereafter. Are the photos – 126 in total – suitable for an orthomosaic? I mean, the single shots look like this:

An then, the relief: WebODM, the software successfully stitches together the photos.

Why does the image has this odd angle? Because it contains spatial data, so that it can be used in GIS systems. It is therefore aligned north. Here is a cropped version aligned parallel to the ship:

Will there be another ice station? I’m pretty sure. Probably not tomorrow, when we expect another strong gale, with wind speeds above 20 m/s. So I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, apart from one thing: all meals will be on time.

Into the ice, into the storm

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

14 October

After encountering a small ice field in the morning, we reach the marginal ice zone. So it looks like round 16:00:

Less than an hour later, it looks like this:

At six o’clock, people are standing on the bridge, peeking into the snowfall, driven by the increasing wind. A mooring is about to be recovered. It has been collecting data for more than a year, and now its release mechanism will be triggered by a so-called hydrophone, allowing the air-filled orange buoys to float to the surface and making the mooring visible. Then it has to be located visually so that it can be towed onto the ship. Not easy, when it looks like this.

The buoy is spotted, and now the long cable, equipped with instruments at different depths, is pulled onto the ship. Not easy, because ice floes drift along and carry the cable with them, bringing them close to the ship, until the cable is released. A new version of ice fishing.

This is a good example of teamwork. You need experts on deck doing the manual work, a helmsman steering the ship with Fingerspitzengefühl, people on the bridge spotting the next buoy, and good communication between these groups. The first activity is successfully completed, with a wow-effect.

Watching the sea ice illuminated by the ships spotlights has its own beauty. I still cannot get enough from these views.

The weather, however, worsens. At 21:10, the wind speed reaches 20 m/s for the first time that day, and the temperature is dropping as well. It is snowing, and each snowflake leaves a bright trail, like a meteor. How will the weather be like tomorrow?

15 October

Over night, it has become even colder and windier. The temperature -10 °C and falling, and the wind speed is above 20 m/s and increasing. Ice floes cover the ocean. Now I’m glad, I brought my warmest down parka with me.

Two CTD casts have been completed today, but then it became too stormy to continue. I go onto the helicopter deck to take some photos, but the wind is so strong, that although I never thought it could actually happen, I’m afraid of being blown overboard. I can’t see much because I’ve pulled up the fur-trimmed hood of my parka to protect myself from the cold, and the wind blows the fur in all direction closing the hood even further.

In the evening – well, I managed to get a shot from the side of the ship, where I was slightly sheltered from the storm. When I went around the corner to the helicopter deck, I had to seek shelter because the storm was too strong. I took a selfie, but in a sheltered corner so that I could stand steadily and avoid getting frostbite on my hand while using my mobile phone.

16 October

At the risk of repeating myself, the weather looks even worse. I wake up at 5 o’clock, and the temperature is -15.4 °C with a wind speed of 26.2. That’s a wind chill of -32.6 °C. In mid-October!

If you have read this article so far, you might get the impression that I am here as a photographer, but I’m actually here as a data manager, and I spend a lot of time at my computer in the Conference Work Room. I just don’t write too much about my computer work here. I am making good progress, but the distractions are there, for example, the frost patterns on the outer windows. This one looks like a jellyfish made of ice.

Right after lunch I go outside once more, this time to the ship’s stern, where I had a better protection from the wind. Oh, how I love watching the sea ice gently drifting by or being crushed forcefully by the ship.

Ok, back to work. I’m almost finished with the day’s work when the others in the room suddenly jump up and disappear. A polar bear has been sighted in front of the ship. It takes me some time to put on my face mask, helmet, down parka, down pants, gloves, and boots, and to mount the big telephoto lens. Only then can I take some photos of the bear in the distance. It approaches at first, but then turns right and trots away.

 

27 September – Icefields Parkway

This article is part of the series “2026-09: Canada”.

27 September

My wife Annika and I have seen the Canadian Rocky Mountains on both our flights to Canada. We crossed them together on our way from Valemount to Jasper. We saw them again when we visited the Athabasca Falls the following day. We crossed them again in the opposite direction on our way from Drumheller to Radium Hot Springs. Today is the day when we want to drive the most famous road in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, the Icefields Parkway, part of Alberta Highway 93.

5:40 – the alarm clock rings. We want to get an early start, because it could be a long day. At 6:30, we start our journey. It is a chilly and starry morning with constellations like Orion and Canis Major in the east. Our first stop is not on the Icefields Parkway but on the road between Golden and Banff – Natural Bridge Lower Falls in the Yoho National Park. The river lies in the shade of the morning. While we are back on the road, the sun rises and illuminates the mountain peaks.

We drive to the car park at Lake Louise, one of the tourist hotspots but just turn around. First of all, the car park is already full, and then we’ve decided to skip the lake anyway (the parking fee alone is 42$). However, this is where the Icefields Parkway starts or ends, depending from your perspective. The air is cold, the car thermometer shows -4 °C. We drive north. We have had incredible luck with the weather. The last rain has brought fresh snow to the mountains, but now the sky is clear again and all the mountain peaks are visible. And yes – this is an especially beautiful road to drive ,and now, in late September, it is much less crowded than I expected.

We see countless snowy mountains whose names I do not know. We stop at Bow Lake. At Bow Pass (2067 m) the snow is not above us but beside us. We take the walk to the Peyto Lake Viewpoint. We stop at Waterfowl Lake. We take the short walk to Mistaya Canyon. We look back along the road from the Big Bend Viewpoint. And then we arrive at the Columbia Icefield, where we can see the glaciers in the distance – both impressive and distressing, because the total area covered by the Icefield decreased by 18% between 1985 and 2018. (Geosciences 2021, 11(1), 19; https://doi.org/10.3390/geosciences11010019). We continue on to the Stutfield Glacier Viewpoint. Then it is time to turn around and drive the same way back. What a day! This has been another highlight on our trip to Canada, though by no means the only one.

And now – the trip photos.

Disclaimer: Some of the photo captions name the subject, while others name the place from which the photo was taken. I have done my best to use the correct names, but I might have got some of them wrong.

22 September – Red Deer, Alberta

This article is part of the series “2026-09: Canada”.

22 September

Sometimes it is not really my wife Annika and I who choose the exact place to go next, sometimes it is just the availability (and prices!) of accommodation. We want to go to Drumheller, but while searching for an additional stopover, we have found a hotel in Red Deer. Another town, locality, or village I have never heard of. They have several places to stay and there is even a small jazz festival going on with a concert today at 16:30. Perhaps some traditional jazz played by the locals? We will try to make it in time, and we’ll see.

After breakfast with fried eggs and fried potatoes, we pack our things in the car and leave the cosy Shunda Creek Wilderness Hostel – my all-time favourite hostel. First, we visit Nordegg including the Farmhouse Local Foods store, then we head east. We drive through large, golden barley fields with one stop in mind: Markerville, a village (or a hamlet for the picky ones) that has an interesting history connected with Iceland. I love the idea that such a small settlement had a library more than 130 years ago. You can read more on the website www.historicmarkerville.com/history.html.

From here it is less than an hour to the village of Red Deer, but …

At first, I think that Alberta Highway 2 that connects Alberta’s two largest towns Edmonton and Calgary is the only major road here. But then there are multi-lane highways everywhere, and highway junctions, and slip roads, and confusing roundabouts, and six-lane traffic lights, and everything that stresses me fiercely when I drive a car. I prefer a snowstorm to that. So it turns out that Red Deer is anything but a small town. It is Alberta’s third-largest city, with about 100,000 inhabitants and we didn’t know that. Well, that came as a surprise.

(The map to the left shows my image of Red Deer I had in mind before going there. The map to the right shows my panicked impression of driving a car there. Both images have been created by the Copilot AI.)

I manage to get to the centre and we find a parking bay directly at the location of the jazz festival. A guitar player is sitting lonely outside, playing and singing the blues. We listen for a while, then go to visit some second-hand shops and decide to drive to the hotel to check in. I am very grateful that now Annika is driving the car. This town is too big for me and she is by far the better driver in cities.

Now that we are in “civilisation mode”, we do something else I wanted to do since we started travelling through Canada: eating at Tim Hortons, Canada’s largest quick-service restaurant chain, with about 4000 restaurants in Canada. I have to admit that I liked my bowl. The chicken was tasty and crispy, and there was a lot of salad and it is always nice to get some non-burger food.

After our meal, we head to the hotel, which has a swimming pool and a hot tub. Of course, we have to try it out.

Tomorrow, we will continue our journey to Drumheller, where we will stay for two nights.

Mountain tour on the Ullstinden

The weather forecast looked good for Saturday which was yesterday, so my friend Christine and I decided to do a mountain tour on Mount Ullstinden on Tromsø‘s mainland. We met at her place, had breakfast and drove to the car park, the very same where our tours to Trollvassbu start.

This time we head north-east. The unmarked path leads over several bogs and some parts are pretty wet and muddy.

We cross some stretches of birch forests and the ground gets drier. Even at this early stage, we have wide views of the mountains and valleys to the south and west.

Some parts are covered with Arctous alpina whose leaves turn bright red in early autumn. The colour can be pretty intense and although the birches have hardly turned yellow they give the mountain landscapes an autumnal atmosphere.

In the north we can see Grøtsundet, which connects Tromsøya to Ullfjorden and so to the open sea in the north. Here the Hurtigruten ships can continue to Skjervøy, the next Hurtigruten port in the north. The Hurtigruten ship we see however is probably an expedition cruise ship because the ships from the north arrive in the night.

I am a bit confused. I thought Ullstinden was the mountain we already headed to on the bogs but I was wrong, our destination is more to the west. Here we see the first reindeer, first just a couple, then more groups – they are at least fifty. Since they stand more or less on our trail we slow down and give them a head start.

While we wait and watch, the wind picks up a little. It is carrying a lot of willow seed with it and against the sun it looks like a late-summer snow shower.

We turn left now following the red-painted rocks that mark the trail up. The Hurtigruten ship is out of sight but the view of Grøtsundet is still there, including the island Nipøya and the mountain Istinden with its glacier in the background.

The terrain gets rocky. We cross a broad but shallow mountain stream with green patches of moss and the “high alpine” part of our mountain tour starts.

The slope is covered with rough, angular rocks. Sometimes there is a tuft of grass or a small ground-cover plant but moss and  crustose lichens dominate the sparse vegetation.

I took the selfie at an altitude of 800 metres. In Bavaria you have towns like Oberstdorf or Bayrischzell at those altitudes, here in Tromsø you are in desert-like Arctic alpine terrain.

Finally we reach reach the summit of the south-western summit of Ullstinden (in some sources called Stortinden) at an altitude of 1078 metres. We drop our backpacks, drink some water and share some chocolate. We have been completely alone for the whole tour, but now a young woman is approaching. It is her taking the photo of us. Thank you, unknown hiker!

The view from the peak is absurdly spectacular, almost unreal. To the southwest we can see the slope we ascended. To the west, behind Ullsfjorden we can see the northern half of the Lyngen Alps. Also to the west, more than 600 metres below us – the lake Riehppejávri or Storelvvatnan with its intense turquoise water. To the north, the other summit of Ullstinden – 15 metres higher and there are other fjords and snow fields and mountain ranges and two eagles and … . I am speechless.

I take some photos. For the one with the lake I have to lie down, because there the terrain is much steeper than the comfort-zone part of me likes.

I even try to take a series of shots for a panoramic photo (thanks, Martin for your inspiration!) but I’m not content. I should have taken more time to find a better angle.

I was glad that I took my trekking poles with me. I hardly use them, but my knees appreciated it when I was descending about 950 metres in altitude. I have eaten the chocolate, I have drunk most of the water but now I had another weight to bear: A quartz rock of about one kilo that I found on the way up. Until it has found its final place in my apartment it stands on the coffee table and reminds me of this exhausting but pretty spectacular mountain tour.

Thanks for the great hike, Christine. Takk for turen!

 

 

Flying a drone

I’m sitting on a bench at gate E18 of the Tromsø Airport. E18 means it’s an international flight. I am flying to Munich and will be spending a week in Augsburg. In Tromsø the temperature exceeded 20 °C on only two days in July, Augsburg will be hot with temperatures up to 35 °C. I like summer but this heat is not my thing and I’m longing for cooler temperatures already now. Like 6 May 2023, when temperatures in Tromsø reached only around 6 °C.

On that day I tested a drone of the Norwegian Polar Institute for an expedition. Flying a drone always means having to leave Tromsøya because of the airport restrictions.

Last week I tested again, this time a newer drone belonging to the Norwegian Polar Institute and a better remote control for my own drone, which I bought second-hand a few days ago. I really like the institute’s DJI Mavic 3 Pro because it is larger, more stable, and has three cameras. But I’m pretty content with my own DJI Mini 3 Pro, especially now with the updated remote control. Under good light conditions they both make great photos. Here is one from Kattfjordeidet, Kvaløya, and the others are from Sommarøya. You can try to guess which drone took which photo. I couldn’t.

About half a year ago I had my drone with my as well, this time on the frozen Baltic Sea where I flew it several times. Publishing aerial photos taken in Sweden always takes a while, as you need to apply for publication permission for each photo. I have obtained permission to publish the following photo of the lighthouse Dynan and the island Bredskär. So, here it is:

If everything goes according to plan I will go on a three-week work cruise with the icebreaking vessel Kronprins Haakon between Svalbard and Greenland in October. Hopefully, we will have good conditions for ice stations. Then I’ll take orthophotos of and on the ice again.

 

 

The sea and the mountains

Back in Tromsø after some travelling I joined the “Thursday paddling” organised by the Tromsø Sea Kayakers Club. We were eleven kayakers and it was proposed and we decided to paddle to Grindøya, one of the common tours.

On Sálljnjárnuorri / Sandnessundet, the sound between Tromsøya and Kvaløya, it was windy and short waves came from the right. Here I preferred to hold my paddle and didn’t take any photos. In the lee of Grindøya, I started taking photos again.

We paddled alongside the island and took a break at the southern tip.

After half an hour, we continued our tour. The wind had calmed down and so did the waves. We paddled around the island and then headed to Monsterbygget (the monster building), a landmark on Tromsøya often used for kayaking navigation. After three hours, we were back at the boathouses.

Next day, another tour. I stopped working early to meet my friend Christine. We took my car to a parking area on Kvaløya and went up the Sørtinden. This is a short tour, about 4 km long with 250 metres of elevation gain., but you are immediately in the mountains.

Some parts were still covered with snow while others were covered with carpets of flowers. Even the cottongrass was blooming.

Gaining altitude, we had views of the lake Finnvikvatnet and the mountains behind, such as Kjølen.

The top of Sørtinden is a bit like a cliff. Here, you also have a view of the sea and the island Vengsøya. After a rest on the windy summit, we went back the same way.

The first torsdagspadling 2026

Yesterday I finally got back to paddling in Tromsø. I had already paddled once this year, on 2 January, more than three months ago. Because of the holiday the next day the traditional torsdagspadling (Thursday paddling) was moved to Wednesday. We were a group of seven, three of them tour guides. The weather was anything but friendly. It rained and it was pretty windy.

Shortly before 18:00, we started our tour to Telegrafbukta in the south.

On the way there we had strong headwinds that slowed us down a lot. Sometimes I felt like my kayak was anchored. I tried to push forward but when I looked at the shore I realized how slow we were. The distance of about 4 km took us 90 minutes, including seeking shelter twice to check on everyone.

Finally, the wooden pier came into view. From there it is not far to Telegrafbukta, I know, but yesterday it seemed to take ages until I got there.

We all turned left into the bay where we landed at low tide. We pulled or carried the kayaks higher up and took a break. Time to drink something and share some chocolate.

It wasn’t a long break because we were all wet and it was cold. A 3 °C air temperature and the wind resulted in a sub-zero wind chill. Even I, who had taken my insulated sailing parka with me, was cold.

The way back was completely different. Not only is it nice when the rain comes from behind, but also our kayaks were pushed back and we could paddle back quite effortlessly. I was nearer to land than the others, which gave me some nasty waves. One of them almost capsized me, because I reacted too slowly to take any countermeasure. I was lucky and could keep my balance.

Once we were back on land, we helped each other put the kayaks back into the boathouses, then I drove home, still wearing my dry suit and longing for a hot shower. I got it. After that I fired the wood stove in the living room that I rarely use, but which is a perfect thing to have after such an exhausting and soaking wet kayak tour.

As always, did I regret having been outdoors? Even with today’s aching muscles and stiffness I can answer: Not at all! I’m looking forward to the next time.

Takk for turen – thanks for the trip!