The Sea Stallion set out from Kirkwall and the Orkneys yesterday 15:00 p.m. At the time the north-easterly wind and the tide were perfect.
Before departure I sat down in the restaurant at the hotel next to the rooms of the sailing club. Just to get 5 minutes by myself before the journey towards Scotland.
I had barely sat down with my cup of coffee before an elderly married couple sat down beside me.
”What time will you be leaving today?”
The blue Sea Stallion parade jacket had revealed me as a part of the crew.
They told me that they had come to Kirkwall to see us set sail. They were on holiday for two weeks in these parts of the country. Yesterday they had met an elderly lady who enthusiastically had told them about the Viking ship and all the big strong men that had been walking around in the streets. A sight she enjoyed very much.
I started laughing. And abandoned my plan of taking a rest i an quiet corner of the restaurant. And felt glad thinking of the lively lady of 70 years, who had been secretly watching some of my fellow male crewmembers. Imagine having lived for all those years and still be able to feel your heart beat faster when you meet a he-man. Wonderful!
The married couple in the restaurant confided to me that they would visit the National Museum in Dublin, after the Sea Stallion have been stabled there shortly. And they would buy my book. That made me feel glad once more.
We talked a little about the Orkney Islands and they told me, that I shold come back sometimes and see everything I didn´t have time for this time. And there is no doubt that I will return to the Orkneys.
We rowed for a little more than four hours. The speed hit five knots. Not because we rowed like madmen but because of the powerful current. And soon we had entered the Atlantic. And suddenly the Orkneys showed itself in different colours. From the green hills with soft curves as in a woman's body, the scenery to the west now was vertical, jagged rock walls i black nuances. From the ocean we could see the most beautiful patterns of stones crossing the green fields in all directions.
It was a great moment as we glided into the Atlantic. But if I had imagined a blue-green ocean with long heavy swells and chalk-white foam, I would have been disappointed. The ocean was flat. And grey. And it still is 18 hours later.
Starboard had "dog-duty" to night. The watch from 24-04. And we could enjoy the sight of a bright summer night and a couple of dolphins, who curiously accompanied us only three metres from the ship. And this morning a whale was sighted only twenty metres from us. Three time it surfaced to breathe, then it silently went back into the deep ocean. Skipper believed it to be a lesser rorqual.
Now the time is 14 pm. We are near Cape Wrath. The notorius northwestern corner of Scotland. A tough place, guilty of many shipwrecks. We enjoy the sight of the vertical cliffs from a safe distance.
The landscape has changed character. From the soft hills of the Orkneys to the dramatic scenery of the Scottish higlands, the mountain hills look like extinct volcanoes at a distance. The mountain-sides soar towards the sky and disappear ind the grey clouds.
When the sun rose early this morning we were met by a strange sight. In the horizon we saw a white colossus with steep vertical walls. It looked like an iceberg who took a wrong turn. And the lookout in the bows did have his doubts. But in the other end of the ship they could calm us down, telling it was The White Skerris; a lonely rock some way into the Atlantic. An island overshit by birds and therefore white as chalk.
Well, now they talk of a whale on starboard side. I'm outta here...