To all you readers of my diary: Foregive me for waiting until now to report back to you. The weather is to blame, but we will come back to that.
First a couple of words about the big farewell in Roskilde.
It made a deep impression on me that 8-10.000 people was there to see the Sea Stallion off. And when we passed the pere by the Viking Ship Museum, my heart was beating heavily. The fiord was filled with kayaks, sailing boats and motor boats, who followed us up the fiord.
What a grand farewell.
But it was not easy. Moments before I had said goodbye to my girlfriend, children and my family from Jutland, so it was smiling through tears.
Our Skipper put it beautifully in words, when he held his farewell-speech. He told, that he the last couple of weeks had read "The Hobbit" ("there and Back again") for his children in their home on Orø. The hobbits, these small creatures who prefer the comforts of their homes, cosiness and drinking tea, and with no ambitions to explore the world outside the Shire.
Skipper told, that he the last couple of weeks had feld a bit like a hobbit and thougt of the comming voyage with a little anxiety. If skipper has feld like a hobbit, he has not been alone. Everyday I have asked myself the exact same question; Why are you doing this, when you could have spend a peacefull summer-holliday at home with your loved ones?
By now, I have not come closer to the answer than skipper did at the end of his speech: It's a part of human nature to be curious, to feel the longing for undiscovered land in your heart, to want the adventure. And that is how man is different from hobbits. We men and women have always left the Shire to discover the world just around the corner.
During the four farewell-speeches, the crew was sitting on board the Sea Stallion. When the manager of the Viking Ship Museum, Tinna Damgaard-Sørensen held the very last speech, it was impossible for me to hold the tears back any longer. And when she addressed the family-members of the crew and gave them a special thanks, the tears were flowing freely.
I looked at my girlfriend and children and thought: YES! It is not us - the crew - who should be honoured. Sure, we have a long and tough voyage ahead of us, but as a reward we will have great experiences along the way. Our loved ones at home will live in want and worry and have to carry the burden of all the tasks at home. They do not get to see a single sunset or feel a single roll on a wave or hear a single cheer from the wharf.
But in these seconds I spotted many tearfilled eyes among the crew. And I am sure, if not else, our loved ones get our deepest devotion, love and gratitude. I feel it brush through my body, and I will never forget what a gift it is, to receive full support for this voyage from the ones left at home.
180 hours under sail towards Dublin.
Anyone, who is familiar with the Sea Stallion, knows that there is a special connection between this happy ship and the weather. When we tested the ship for four weeks last summer, we had almost constant sunshine and fair weather. The heatwave of the century made that trip to Norway an utter pleasure. Almost like a summer holliday on the beach with a bit of sailing on the side.
But fair weather is not always the best for a sailing ship like the Sea Stallion. With a voyage of 1000 nautical miles ahead of us, we need the wind. And lots of it!
And what happened this sunday on an otherwise fairweathered day in Roskilde? When the last speech was comming near an end, the foreman of the midship - Preben - tapped me on the shoulder:
”Here is our wind!”.
And quite right. The danish and irish flags were suddenly flapping in the wind. A perfekt wind from the south helped us gentle and quicky out of Roskilde-Fiord.
The most amazing part is , that the wind has blown from southeast ever since, så we held a good 8-9 knots almost the hole way from Roskilde to Kristianssand, where I am typing down these lines. When we encountered our support vessel at Hundested I heard that, according to our navigation system, we would be in Dublin in 180 hours, if we maintained this speed. Amazing thought!
Water, Water, Water...
"Don't worry... We'll be there soon" -The words come from the ever smiling and optimistic Henrik, who is sitting in the rum just aft of the mast. Kim is standing right beside Henrik. Like everyone else on board the Sea Stallion the two men are soaked from head to toe in the ever falling rain. It has been pouring down since Hundested and still is now that we are passing Skagen. I think, that Kim is beginning to have doubts about Henriks optimistic forecast of a clear sky.
But when he utters his doubts in sceptical voice, Henriks reply is a big smile and a "If you stop believing in me, then all hope is out." And that attitude is prevalent on the ship; The smiles are still broad and the spirits high even in the vast amounts of rain. And still we have lots of power to spare.
The fresh to strong breeze is constantly slamming the rain on to our rainclothes and makes everything very wet and cold. But it helps a lot, that there is a long way from the Musto-sailing-outfit through layers of wollen sweaters and underwear to my bare skin.
During a brief clearing of the weather the cruise liner "Bremen" catches up with us and slows down to sail along our side for about a quater of an hour. The people on the liner takes a short break in their luxurious lives to view this strange experiment; 65 people on the Skagerak in a reconstructed viking ship. A clash of cultures on open sea. From luxury to ragamuffin in a 100 meters.
Preben in the midship can not resist the temptation: ”Hilfe… Ich bin gefangetagen aus dieser Wikingeschiff... Hilfe! Ich will auch gern ein kop kaffee haben. Danke schön...“
But of course the people on the liner can not hear anything. They just wave and takes lots of photographs, and shortly after "Bremen" is way ahead of us. The life of luxury sails on. -And so do we!
I am cold now! - We are in the middle of the Skagerak, and skipper has decided to head for Kristianssand in Norway. The wind is harder now. It feels like a strong breeze close to a near gale. The rain is pouring hard. Everything is soaking wet.
I am off duty now and hide my self under a wollen blanket, heavy as lead from the rain. The waves are rising The sea is grey as steel and so is the sky. it's juli but feels like november. On open sea! The humidity under the blanket must be very high. It's hard to breethe. Like a steem bath, but without the warmth.
Eventually I give up, pull the blanket away and stick my head out. In the dimm evening light I see a line of raindrops running back and forth on my sou'wester. They follow the movements of the ship. Over the sheer (same as the rail or gunwale on other ships) I see the steep waves af the Skegerak.
The skipper Carsten Hvid sits down on the mast partner in front of me. "what are you so cranky about?"
"I'm not cranky!"
"Want to bet..?"
That's all it takes for my spirits to lift and a smile pulls in the corners of my mouth. And it even makes the coldness a little less cold.
Within the latest hours four crew-members has been "evacuated" to the support vessel. One with a knee-injury and three with severe sea sickness and freeze downs.
I feel a little less cold when we reach the south tip of Norway and is sheltered a bit from the wind. At 3 am we dock in harbour of the island Bragdøya. I am trying to find a place to sleep with a bit of shelter from the rain. But in vain. So I just crash on a gangway with sleepy thoughts to the tents on board the Sea Stallion. Four hours later, I wake up in the exact same spot. Fortunately it hasn't been raining, but i'm cold to the bones. I look at my sell phone to check news from back home, but in that very second the batteries run flat. I light a cigaret and gaze at rain-heavy clouds.
It's not all fun to sail a viking ship to Ireland!
MT