ADVENTURE SHAKEDOWN IN WINTER
Amanda Hourston and Daniel Wakeham learn about their new 27ft yacht on a four-month cruise from Oslo into the Arctic Circle
The purchase of Snoopy wasn’t our first impulsive decision. In fact, without a series of spontaneous choices we wouldn’t have been on the outskirts of Oslo about to see our new yacht, with plans to sail her north during the Norwegian winter. This also wouldn’t be our first time taking a boat into the Arctic Circle. In 2014, my partner Daniel and I, along with our friend, Daniel Elves motored our 23ft Carson RIB from Orkney up the Norwegian coast to the Arctic Circle, returning after 29 days. We had made the voyage to raise our friend’s spirits after his recovery from testicular cancer.
It was an emotional experience and had led us to decide that living life impulsively bought exactly the type of excitement we longed for. Two years later, in the same RIB, we set out from Scotland again to live aboard while exploring the Norwegian coast for a year before settling down in Dyrøya. Now, we were about to embark on our third adventure to explore our adopted country, this time on a 27ft yacht, and with our bumbling young labrador, Aina at our side.
UNLEASHING SNOOPY
We had been interested in buying a small sailing boat for some time, but on a limited budget nothing had caught our eye until we found the Witus 27, Snoopy. Only 40 or so of these Arvid Laurin-designed yachts were built during the late 70s and 80s. Loosely based on the marginally smaller Folkboat, the long-keeled Snoopy fitted most of the criteria we had been looking for. The cherry on the top was the recently replaced engine, mast and sails, topped off by the owner being interested in a swap for anything unusual. We had a Bombard C5 inflatable which wasn’t getting much use and so we came to an agreement. Another impulsive decision: we crossed our fingers and hoped we wouldn’t regret it. Snoopy hadn’t been used for some time so we set about preparing the boat for our 1,300 mile shakedown cruise to our home marina at Dyrøya. We checked over the 15hp Yanmar and wiring, replaced all the fluids, fuel filters and added a wood burning stove, essential for the harsh winter. We were lucky that Snoopy came with a cockpit cover. It allowed us to work on the engine during all weathers, and it offered a little more space for a dog and humans during preparations. After a few weeks of work we were ready to leave. Excitedly, we untied from the pontoon and headed towards a secluded anchorage a few miles away. This would allow us to get a feel for how Snoopy handled. It was also a bit of a baptism of fire as the anchorage was the other side of a very narrow rocky channel. At the tightest spot, Snoopy’s 2.5m beam passed with only a metre to spare. Safely in the pool we set the anchor. That first night afloat was a truly serene experience. The weather was perfect, Snoopy barely swung at anchor as there was virtually no wind, and we sat in the cockpit cooking pizza surrounded by trees, hills and the distant ringing of the sheep bells. As the sun set, we lit the fire and chatted as Aina opted to swim around the boat; even the dropping sea temperatures weren’t enough to make this labrador want to stay dry. This journey was going to be very special. We had really missed the cruising lifestyle. It was a
We woke up to a white deck with the tender full of a cottony layer of snow
stunningly calm autumn which wasn’t great for sailing, and we had to use the iron topsail to make any progress at all. We were also reminded about the realities of winter sailing in Norway when we arrived at our second anchorage; it was covered by a thin layer of ice.
ISLAND HOPPING
We managed to safely anchor and after layering up collected dead wood and driftwood from the shore to keep the fire going through the night. In the evening, we explored the channels between islands by dinghy, the outboard leaving a trail of twinkling phosphorescence in its wake. We were growing more confident about sailing Snoopy and decided to navigate the Blindleia, a notorious narrow but scenic passage between mainland Norway and a scattering of islands. We spent several days following the winding channels between islands and under bridges. Snow also fell, and we woke up to a white deck with the tender full of a cottony layer. Aina excitedly ran around chasing snowballs. While the weather was favourable we anchored to keep costs down. Carrying a good supply of food and water meant we could be self-sufficient. Using candles for light and wood for heating helped our relatively small battery set-up cope with our usage, recharging as we motored. While not in harbour we did miss the luxury of a proper shower but made do with water warmed on top of the stove using a battery pump shower while sitting in a large bucket in the cockpit. It was a long way from comfort but did allow us more freedom from marinas, many of which had shut facilities for the winter season to help prevent pipes bursting. We were also able to find free access pontoons, often in natural havens with a few swans, eagles and otters for company. These ranged from a basic wooden jetty to
entire complexes with barbecue shelters, walking trails and a children’s play area. Many of them are part funded and maintained by the Royal Norwegian Boat Association, which also provides free short-stay moorings along the coast. With no other sailors out of port we only shared the sea with the dolphins and hardened fishermen. As the year began to wane, sailing conditions improved and we enjoyed some brisk sailing along the fjord mouths. We had just successfully navigated the infamous passage, Hustadvika, when we began discussing where to spend Christmas.
CRAB FOR CHRISTMAS DINNER
We were tempted by Ona and Husoy, two quaint small islands joined together by a small bridge, but this was back on the other side of Hustadvika. Eventually, we decided we would regret it if we didn’t turn Snoopy around. Our arrival for Christmas significantly increased the permanent population of 15. On Christmas Eve two locals appeared outside our boat with a bag of freshly caught crab claws, a touching Christmas dinner treat. The new year brought with it much more unsettled weather; the continuous calms we had been experiencing were replaced with unusually windy weather for Norway. We were regularly stuck in port and opted to berth more in marinas rather than risk a night at anchor in gusting hurricane force winds. Snoopy was performing better than we could have expected, not only proving her seaworthiness but all three of us were finding her comfortable to live aboard. As the journey went on everything found its place and we fell into our routine. Aina learned to be relatively calm aboard and to save her labrador energy for the shore.
Our adventure coincided with dog shedding season and soon she and we accepted the daily trips to the bow to brush away the loose fur that otherwise formed a carpet in the cockpit. As we made our way north the scenery changed. The leafy autumn colours in the south of Norway were replaced with the more dramatic and barren terrain as we crossed into the Arctic Circle. Along with the changing scenery we added a few more layers and became used to clearing the ice from the ropes each morning. We would sail for hours with no houses in sight before spotting the twinkling lights of small, scattered villages. Many locals light candles and turn on lights during the long
As the sun set, we lit the fire and chatted
while Aina opted to swim around the boat
dark winters to keep everyone feeling bright and cheerful. We were weeks behind schedule so made the tough decision to miss out the Lofotens and navigate the shorter passage to Dyrøya via Tjeldsund.
HEADING HOME
This meant our final few days were long and we passed by many beautiful areas without the chance to stop even for a picnic. As we started the 40-mile crossing of Vestfjord, we knew our journey was reaching its end, although we still had one more hurdle to clear. The current runs through Tjeldsund at up to 8 knots, so we had to time it right. We arrived at Lodingen but only managed a few hours rest before leaving. It was a good decision, as we sailed on a favourable current, reaching a top speed of 13 knots.
The final hours brought mixed emotions. We were sad our first cruise was coming to an end but excited to have completed what we set out to do. As we pulled into our permanent berth at Dyrøya a few locals, who had followed our voyage online, came down to take the lines. It seemed surreal as we made our way to our house, leaving Snoopy alone for the first time in months. As we woke the following morning we slowly sat up, the dog bounding around the house finding all her old toys; the journey already seemed like a hazy memory. We took breakfast down to Snoopy, sat in the cockpit and began planning our next adventure.