Statt

Thursday, we enjoyed a full day of excellent sailing between Skifjord and Maloy, mostly on a broad reach with following 15 to 20 knot southerlies. We are becoming proficient at handling our preventer, a must when the wind is behind the beam.

Friday morning, I weighed anchor in a sheltered pool near Maloy at 0500 while John, Em, and Jocelyn snored. I pointed the boat north toward Statt.

Lomax writes "the Stattlandet peninsula protrudes like a angry clenched fist, creating the west coast's most notorious offshore passage.... Statt can be a particularly difficult cape to round in bad weather, and can create its own bad weather even when conditions in the sounds to its south are gentle.... It is considered so dangerous that an escort service for small boats is provided between Maloy and Bringsinghaug."

No escort service was available now. We would go it alone. The sky was overcast, a light rain falling through patchy mist over the water. The engine propelled Windleblo through a mirror surface.

Once through the Maloy sound, we entered unprotected waters. The cliffs of Stattlandet hung in the mist to starboard. The skies opened up from time to time, but the winds remained calm, the seas flat with one meter swells. One by one, Jocelyn, John, and Em arose, greeted by puffins and dolphins who cheered us along. The rains eased, and we progressed smoothly. One and a half hours later we had rounded Statt safely.

Our remaining course took us through an island archipelago to the beautiful town of Alesund. With no wind, we motored the entire way. We arrived at 1 p.m. to find a rafting berth in the inner harbor. We spent a delightful weekend there, quite a different town from the others we've seen. Lomax tells us, "Its center was rebuilt in Art Nouveau style, with pastel frontages adorned with neo-Classical and Gothic flourishes, after a major fire in 1904 destroyed 850 homes, leaving 10,000 people homeless."

Our enjoyment included shopping, browsing the town's museum, and scaling two summits. On Friday, we all climbed Mt. Aksla, rising 418 steps from a town park. Sunday, John and I summited Sukkertoppen, a 1,000-foot mountain just outside town.