Sunday evening I had a phone interview
for a really great job, and since I didn’t know where I’d have
access to Skype next, I decided to stay where I was. A robotic lawn
mower kept me company.
Day 13
I paddled north along the island Gossa.
The sea was a little choppy and there was some headwind. The region
was known for sinking ships with a combination of bad weather and
shallow waters. At least I didn’t need to worry about the shallow
water.
Half way through crossing to the
mainland a ship came down the channel towards me, so I changed my course
so that it was perpendicular to his to get out of his way.
I cut between a couple of islands and
found myself in the harbor of Bud where new boats floated next to old
docks.
I came out from between more rocky
islands and rounded a corner to head east when the weather began to
make itself felt strongly on my port side. A path hinted safety
between the the rocks to my right. I followed it around a corner to
a dead end, and returned the way that I came.
A hundred meters later another path
wound into the rocks. This time it went through. For the rest of
the day I paddled in narrow channels between islands and the mainland
that were not on my chart. Sometimes they were dead ends, and other
times a channel under a bridge or between seawalls would take me to a
whole new section of the sinuous inland water way.
I arrived at a small marina in Farstad.
Cozy houses populated the thick cluster of islands in the area and
their occupants left their cars in the parking lot above to take
motorboats the final leg home.
A French couple spent the night in the
back of their minivan in the parking lot as well. They were touring
the country and complaining about the weather. Last summer is was so
much warmer.
I remembered just enough French so that
they felt comfortable talking to me at length in their native tongue.
I didn’t remember or possibly ever know enough French to
understand a word they were saying.
I walked into the village looking for a
supermarket, but there were just a few houses. A man washing his car
told me that the next village had a supermarket and I could probably
walk there in an hour, so I walked. When I was most of the way
there, I got a ride.
After my shopping I walked out of the
store and realized I didn’t know the way back. I hadn’t paid
enough attention as a passenger. I asked a fellow shopper, a tall bicep tattooed fellow, the way to
the small marina to the east and he pointed me down one of the roads.
When he drove alongside me and offered
a lift I was happy to accept. I told him my story as we cruised
along a road that did not look familiar until I recognized enough of
the scenery to know that we drove west. The marina he wanted to take
me to was a touristy one I passed earlier in the day, which he naturally assumed was the one I was looking for since I was a tourist.
I explained again that I needed to go
to the marina to the east. I could show him on a map if he had one.
He asked me to hold his open beer while he loaded up a map on his
phone.
I mumbled something in surprise that
ended with “not that I’m judging.”
“Don’t worry,” he told me, “It’s
my first one. I got in a fight with my girlfriend.”
I showed him on his phone where my
marina was and he we drove there. He took my picture while he
dropped me off so that he could prove to his girlfriend that he had
really been doing a good deed and not gallivanting.
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