Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Norway Post 6

I headed back to the dock from the hostel.  Two Lithuanian fishermen stood silently on the dock with lines in the water.  I introduced myself, "catch anything?" which I think is what you're supposed to ask fishermen.

"Yah, want to see?"

"No thanks, it'd make me hungry."  I might have been fishing myself, I'm not sure.

"No worries, we've got a bunch.  Have some."  He opened up his bucket.  Three big fish, mostly dead, looked up at us.  The mackerel was for me.  I thanked them profusely, assured them that I had enough food and that they should enjoy the fruits of their labor.

I cooked the fish with my rice and Norwegian peas.

Day 4

I woke up feeling sick to the stomach.  Maybe it was the stream water.  Maybe it was the peas.  Peas in Norway need to be soaked and then cooked for a long time.  So far I've skimped on the cooking to save fuel.  I don't know if this is the nature of Norway, or just its peas.  For example, had I brought peas from the states with me, would I have needed to cook them longer?  I don't know.  Perhaps no one ever will.

I can't kayak if I'm nauseated and need to go to the bathroom every few minutes, so I decided I'd take the morning off and see how I'd feel later

I launched at 14:00.  I paddled from Bjorke at the southernmost end of the Fjord to Hundeid-vika at the mouth.  The distance was about 18 Nautical miles and similar to my trip south except I paddled on the east side of the Fjord  instead of the west.  The mountains seemed to have less snow on them, maybe because the south east direction of the Fjord exposed them to more sunlight.

Towards the end of my day I passed something that looked a little like a red rock with hair.  I backed up to get a closer look.  The body of a deer floated in the water at the bottom of a steep incline.

I tired.  I had about a mile to go when I passed a stony beach beside a rushing snow stream pouring into the fjord.  Lidun, who had lent me the kayak, gave me a hard time when I suggested that I much preferred the creature comforts of a marina to wilderness camping.*  Perhaps this was the opportunity to get back to the wilderness.  I decided to make camp.

Hauling my boat above what I was sure was the high tide line was no easy task.  Made out of plastic, it's a heavy boat when empty.  When it's full of gear I can barely lift it.  I got it as high on the beach as I could and wasn't sure that was high enough, so I tied it to a tree.

I'd have to sleep up by the rocks near the stream.  The woods were much too thick.  I climbed up and the stream blasted me with frigid air . I couldn't camp in an ice wind tunnel.  My boat was mostly still packed, so I closed it up, untied it, brought it down the beach, and resumed what was now an evening paddle by the light of day.

I saw black dolphins.  There were three of them, two seemed small and the third clearly a baby.  Teen pregnancy, nobody's immune, not even the stately dolphin.  Do you know where your children are?

I arrived in the marina in Hundeidvik at 21:00.  It was pretty dilapidated.  There was no building or running water, just a hand full of crooked tilting docks and a few tied up motor boats.  Still, it was better than the woods.  I didn't have to haul my boat anywhere or endure freezing wind tunnels.

Some folk disembarking their small motor yacht told me to ask at the houses above for water.  When I did I was also invited in for a shower.

*for a night or two camping is great.   For months or a year? If it's not necessary to the mission I'll pass, thanks.

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