Sort of crossing the ocean - in my own tiny way

July 15th Myken - Røst

 In the six summers I have spent solo sailing the Norwegian coast there have been a handful of passages that before doing them where kind of emotional mile markers in my sailing career. Many of them still are.  Most of these passages are the infamous parts of the coast where there are no outside range of islands protecting the shipping lane. Todays sail are a major one of those. 40 miles fully exposed to the Norwegian sea, and with no possibility other than continuing or turn back if conditions turn bad. Luckily with modern weather forecasting it is very unlikely that unexpected bad weather, especially for a yachtie that can time his sail for optimal weather. 

And as planned the trip was uneventful. The wind turned out to be even weaker than forecasted and even if seeing the infamous Skomvær fyr from afar there were absolutely no foam weather, even there. In the weak wind I had sails up but they probably did little to help propulsion but the boat rolled a little less. 

On the chart the approach to Røst from  south seemed long and twisty with several potential dangerous skerries. In reality it was fairly plan sailing even though I would prefer to have done it several times in daylight and moderate wind before trying in a gale at night. (What am I fantasising about I would never sail here in gale, and for it to be night I would have to sail in late fall or winter, latitude).

There are around 500 year round inhabitants at Røst. But for at least the last 1000 years the population has been multiplied several times over between january and april when fishermen from most of the Norwegian coast convene on Røst, and in the other fishing villages of Lofoten, to fish during the spaning of the Northeast Arctic pelagic cod (skrei in Norwegian) of which 40% spawn on the southern side of Lofoten. 

Since the fisheries is during winter it is possible to preserve the fish by drying only (making stockfish). The temperatures in Lofoten during this time is constantly in the right range. Low enough to prevent rotting or becoming home to larvae but simultaneously high enough to prevent the meat freezing. In  combination with plenty of wind. Drying is traditionally done on wooden racks, called hjeller in Norwegian, two and two fishes tied together. In summer the racks are empty and the fish either stored inside or already transported south. Since the locals and the fishermen themselves can get fresh fish all year round, stockfish has been a product for export only. And in pre modern times it was the most important export from Norway. 

In the evening the fog rolled in.