SAILING SVALBARD 2013

Follow the links below from left to right to read about the trip as it unfolded.

We have talked for a long time about wanting to sail to Svalbard. Gyda is perfect for sailing in cold waters, and when we moved to Bardufoss last year, the prospect suddenly became much more realistic. Over the winter, we planned the trip and applied to the Governor for permission to travel outside traffic area 10 — which only covers the immediate area around Longyearbyen, Nordenskiold Land and Isfjorden — and for landing permission at Virgohamna.

The local governor, Syslemesteren, requires that everyone sailing to Svalbard arrange their own rescue insurance for their boat and crew. They must also ensure that they are well armed in case of close encounters with polar bears. 'Under Vinter Lang' ('Long Johns') has made a comeback, along with thick gloves, hats, mittens and, most importantly, thermal clothing. There was actually quite a lot to do before all the equipment was ready.

The watermaker, which had been brought back to life after a long period of disuse, eventually produced water of an excellent quality. The 2,000-litre diesel tank was filled to the brim.

Eventually, both the boat and the crew were ready to depart. We had cleared space for six weeks of sailing and had provisions for seven weeks on board. Everything was in place to ensure that we would not suffer any hardship. However, no sooner had we set sail than the skipper injured her leg and it got a rough ride. Since we were still in temperate waters without drift ice, a frozen salmon fillet came in handy as a cold compress. It's unclear whether it was the salmon or the cold compress that made the pain subside, but as it disappeared, our spirits returned.

After leaving the mainland, setting sail from Hekkingen lighthouse on the northern side of Senja, we let the wind determine our course. It soon became clear that the wind was blowing us straight towards Bjørnøya. We sailed past Sørkapp on Spitsbergen, heading for Hornsund — the southernmost fjord on the west coast of Spitsbergen. We then followed the west coast of Spitsbergen, passing Bellsund, Isfjorden, Prins Carl Forland, Ny-Ålesund, and finally Ytre Norskøyane — the northernmost islands on the northwest side of Spitsbergen. Continuing east, we passed the long Reinsdyrflya and turned into Woodfjorden, finally ending up at Monacobreen in Liefdefjorden. What a stunning landscape we got to experience!

Wild and beautiful, to use a well-worn expression.

Due to poor weather forecasts predicting strong easterly gales, we decided not to continue south through Hindlopenstredet. Instead, we took the same route back via 80 degrees north as we had come.

With the wind at our backs, the trip from mainland Norway north to Bjørnøya took about two days with smooth sailing.

From Bjørnøya to Hornsund also took two days, but this time we encountered a gale from the north and very rough seas, which made it a tiring trip. The trip along the west coast of Spitzbergen consisted of day sailing only, with several days spent anchored in the same place. There was a light mix of everything, from fresh breezes to calm winds, bright sunshine and thick fog.

The return home was completed in one go, from Vestervågen in Bellsund to Skjervøy in Troms. It took exactly four days: first, 12 hours of motoring on flat seas until we passed Sørkapp, then, a fresh breeze from the east that really propelled the boat forward.

The trip's only "serious" technical mishap occurred at this point, when a weld on a shaft in the wind vane gave way, meaning we had to steer by hand for half a day. This wasn't really a big deal, but since there were only two of us on board, it quickly became tiring having to stand at the helm, even though we took turns every hour. However, the weather was now at its best, with a good, steady wind. This made it easy to trim the sails, allowing the boat to sail almost by itself.

After sailing for about a day from the mainland the first Kvitnos dolphins, in Norwegian also known as "springer" dolphins, came to visit us. They approached the ship individually and in groups, racing around it. These animals radiated so much energy!

Sometimes they jumped high out of the water, while at other times they slowed down right next to the ship, almost lying down to look at us.

On our journey north to Bjørnøya, we enjoyed sunshine around the clock and a tailwind, although we occasionally had to motor sail due to light winds. In such conditions, we run one engine at economy speed. This gave us a boat speed of 5–6 knots with a fuel consumption of just under 5 litres of diesel per hour.

As the boat is significantly heavier than standard production boats, we need some wind to maintain steady sailing. 

As we approached Bjørnøya, the fog slowly descended. The photo above to the left was taken at around 4 a.m., after the skipper had enjoyed a bowl of soup for breakfast and taken a nap on the deck.

The transition from cloudless skies to fog creates a magical light before the world gradually turned completely grey.

Eventually, the fog settled completely over the sea, reducing visibility to zero. This is when a good radar becomes invaluable. As we approached the southern tip of Bjørnøya, the waves began to build.

There was wind and waves coming from the south, meeting a strong southbound current running along the coast. We had to fire up both engines to maintain propulsion and steering speed. At its strongest, the current was running at 4 knots against us.

As the wind and waves were coming from the south, it was not possible to anchor in the sheltered Sørhamna. Instead, we rounded Måkeholmen and Kap Heer before continuing on to Kap Nilsson and entering Kvalrossbukta. Here, the bay was calm and sheltered from the currents, waves and wind.

The bay is protected from south-west to north-north-west weather, but is completely open to east-north-east weather. The peak in the background of the photo closest to the viewer is Miseryfjellet (536 metres above sea level), the highest peak on Bjørnøya.