Arrival in Tananger

Looking out the porthole after a peaceful sleep at anchor in Fourth of July cove, we could see nothing. A thick cloak of fog obscured everything beyond a few meters. No way would we depart to round Lindesnes until it lifted. We hit the snooze button and rolled over.

Two hours later, the fog had lifted enough for us to get under way. Over smooth seas in calm, humid air, we motored out and around Norway’s southernmost cape. I could sense Jocelyn’s apprehension steadily melting away as she realized the rounding would be uneventful. She knows these waters can be very hazardous under different weather conditions.

Once around, a following six knot breeze developed. We deployed the gennaker, mainly to exercise the crew and equipment. The sail performed flawlessly; the crew worked off some rust.

The wind pushed us the final few miles into Farsund, a classic Norwegian seaside town of 9,400 where it is said babies are found under "Skotteskein," a huge rock on the hillside behind town. Around 2 p.m., we rafted up to a 40-foot steel hulled yacht in the town guest harbor.

Later, we entertained Karl and Rachel, an American couple from the Seattle area in their late 20’s that we met in Kristiansand. Like us, they are headed across to Scotland, us in Windleblo, and them in their 38 foot Hans Christian sloop, Sophia. They had sailed her across the Atlantic last year with Karl’s dad en route to an appointment in Oslo for Rachel as a Fulbright scholar in development psychology. They lived aboard Sophia in Oslo all winter. We swapped stories well into the evening over traditional Norwegian hors d’oeuvre, pork chops and potatoes, and molten chocolate cake.

At five the next morning, I cast off to continue our journey. The winds were going our way for once and we resolved to make the best of them before they turned again. Under leaden, sometimes rainy skies, we were propelled by following 20 to 30 knot breezes and one and a half meter seas all the way to Tananger. The 72 nautical mile voyage took 11 hours with the knot meter topping out at 10.0 on more than one occasion.

We tucked in to a secure berth alongside a dock well inside the guest harbor, to be greeted by the harbor master asking for the daily 100 kronor fee, which we gladly paid. I mounted our Wi-Fi antenna on a shroud and picked up a strong signal emanating from within the nearby Hummeren Hotel. (Hummeren means “lobster” in Norwegian.) Using this signal, I will be able to monitor the weather as in develops in advance of our North Sea crossing, not to mention catch an occasional WEEI radio broadcast of Red Sox baseball.

Now, we chill here for a few days awaiting our first crew change and fair breezes to carry us across to Scotland.