Above the Arctic Circle

Thursday, June 17 – Ölden

We awoke early as we were sailing slowly down the Nordfjord towards the small, alpine town of Ölden. It was a damp and rainy day and we had no specific tour, so we relaxed on board, reading, and talking with fellow passengers. When the weather is dreary and overcast it doesn’t allow anything to look that amazing, so we didn’t feel inspired to jump ashore to look at the few things which were available for us to examine. From the 41 metre height of the ship, we could see the entire town and surrounding farms. There is a wonderful glacier which we could see from the ship – the largest in all of Europe – the Jostedalsbreen Glacier and there was a church. I chose to have a massage which was heaven.

The three hour sail out of the fjord provided impressive views of glaciers, steep cliffs and meadows, other fjords that joined our route, and many small villages. At one, it appeared that everyone had turned out to wave goodbye…complete with a band and baton twirlers. The captain saluted them with many blasts of the ship's horn.

Friday, June 18 – At Sea

As we sailed our way to Tromsǿ the daily program which is slipped under our door each evening, reported that there would be a sunrise at 3:32 am and no sunset. So one of our luncheon companions announced that new lyrics would have to be written for old standbys such as: “Red sails in the…”, “Sunrise,…”.

One lecture series which we attended was the destination lecture for our next two ports of call: Tromsǿ and Honningsvaag. It was again given by Alan Batstone. We were clearly told:
• that there would be no ice bergs or polar bears but that if we were lucky we might see reindeer.
• Both cities lie above the Arctic Circle, but because of the gulf stream the climate is relatively mild.
• This is the area where the Sami culture still thrives. We would have called it Lappland and the people Lapps, but this is considered derisive (I am not sure why). The Sami are nomadic people who have unique ‘passports’ that allow them to cross all the Scandinavian countries freely, though this too is changing as they begin to die out.
• Honningsvaag claims to be the most northern city in the world (up for discussion).
• Near Tromso, in one of the small fjords, lies the remains of the German Battleship Tirpitz – the largest ship built by Germany during WW II. It was sunk by the RAF with 1900 sailors on board; the scrap steel from the sunken structure was used by the locals throughout the town of Tromso; and only a small wooden platform indicates where it was sunk, and where the bow still rests.
• Honningsvaag was burned to the ground by the Germans as they retreated in 1944, leaving only one church.

Our next lecture was given by a cardiologist, Dr. Clive Handler whose topic was: A good marriage is better than an aspirin a day. He was discussing the danger of stress and its effects on one’s heart and mind. He is a very amusing and informative speaker who is quick to put down all fad-like concepts regarding medicine and herbs and ‘gives it to us straight’ on those topics where he feels competent to speak. Here we are on an elegant ship, sitting primly learning about erectile dysfunction, depression, stress and vascular degeneration. Cheery topics for a relaxing cruise at sea.

It was enough to make us head to the bar before dinner to drown our concerns in another of life’s sins – booze.

Saturday, June 19th – Tromsǿ

We awoke to another dreary wet day. We were told in our daily program that there would be No sunrise and No sunset. And worst of all NO SUN! This has been three straight days of foggy skies and drizzle which does get into one’s soul and makes one feel downright soggy. And to add insult to injury the internet and all satellite communications have been lost above the Arctic Circle so we have no sense of the greater world out there, much less being able to download the NY Times crossword puzzle. What is this world coming to??? This last paragraph is what the Brits would call whinging.

We were berthed in Tromsǿ in an industrial area where busses were waiting to shuttle us into the heart of the town. One look at the pouring rain, and knowing that it was mainly a church and a museum which awaited us, we decided that once more we would stay on board. Which we did, along with quite a few of our fellow travelers. British are so damn cheery in this kind of weather, donning their slickers and wellies and striding out to look at flowers and nature. We both looked at each other and said, “Not for us”. We are fair weather tourists and when the sites are minimal at best we can rationalize ourselves out of anything. Now we just pray for reasonable weather tomorrow which is the day we will be at the North Cape, where we should theoretically be able to enjoy the Midnight Sun – after all it is the name of our voyage!! G.D.I.
But I do have to say that there is one wonderful thing which allows us to pass the time when the weather is inclement – channel 36 – which is not satellite-signal dependent, but is provided by the ship. On this channel are wonderful videos covering the history of old ships, construction of new ones, wonderful old films of ships that are now turned to scrap and all narrated by very British voices.

To see how people used to sail with luggage galore, with the sail-away parties, and absolutely everyone always dressed to the nines: The Hibernia, the Corona, the QE2, the original Queen Mary. It does not make me wistful for days of yore since without stabilizers and heavier hulls, the crossings were a little less delightful. There was one poignant video on the people who came across in steerage. We learned that it was actually the people in steerage who represented almost half the income on most trans-Atlantic crossings. They were packed in like sardines, given no more than one hour a day outside on deck, provided very simple food but understood that the small fare they paid was worth it in order to start a better life in America. If one arrived at Ellis Island and were deemed for whatever reason to be unhealthy you would be turned right around and would be obliged to return from where you’d started. In order to reduce the need to take passengers back again, owners of ships built very simple hotels in Liverpool and Ireland to hold steerage passengers and keep them healthy until they departed (and thus avoiding the need to bring them back).

Sunday, June 20th – Honningsvaag

We awoke to brighter skies and the promise that it wouldn’t rain until mid-morning – just as we would be taking the tender to leave the ship and go ashore for our tour to the North Cape. Donning our warm coats, umbrellas and slickers we were put ashore and loaded on to buses to take us up to the North Cape. Only 1050 fellow sailors would be doing this today – which probably doubled the population of the town in an instant. Our first stop was a small pull-off on the side of the road where we had an opportunity to see a real Sami herder, his reindeer (complete with furry horns) and to take posed pictures of him standing there. For all we know he is the last remaining Sami since his face is on all the postcards being sold in town. With the souvenir shop, possibly run by his wife and son), a sample of a summer tent with its modern day ladder, samples of horns which had come off the reindeer, and a few ancient sleds in disrepair he probably can retire a millionaire in Norway. (What was amusing was that when we passed the same location on our way back, there was no one around – no reindeer, no sami, no buses..just a tent.)

We arrived in rain at the North Cape. We headed into the cinema which had a wonderful 180 degree screen. With no words, but evocative music, one watched the seasons pass from early spring to coldest winter. Beautiful pictures of animals, vegetation, the famous midnight sun and the strange northern lights.

Through the fog and rain we looked out to the water, which we would pass later that night, and then I sent off some postcards to the kids, which will be postmarked from the North Cape. A few more pictures and back to the bus for our return to the town which was closed up tight as a drum since it was Sunday. Only the tourist shops remained open to get those kröner from not only our ship but two others that had come into the harbor as well. Feeling quite soggy, it was nice to be greeted at the dock by the QM2 staff with steaming hot cups of cocoas to warm our bones as we waited, in the rain, for the tenders to take us back to the mother ship.

After dinner we had been promised by Commodore Warner that the ship would go up to the North Cape so we could take pictures, from the ship, of that dramatic promontory we had visited earlier in the day. Of course, we had planned on enjoying this view under the midnight sun, but instead we enjoyed the view in the 10:00pm rain. With our hot glög and Irish Coffee, we went out on deck seven to see the fog-shrouded North Cape and to snap pictures. Most of our fellow passengers were on deck as well, all of us trying to keep cheery dispositions as we walked delicately through puddles, and huddled beneath lifeboats, out of the rain. Only when we had returned to our stateroom did the fog lift for a minute so we could see the top of the cliff site from our private balcony, and of course, we could see the flash of cameras which were taking pictures of us as we sailed by.

And so to bed, as we head back south, hoping for a sunny day in our future.