Arctic Traverse: Lofoten

On September 7th, 2022, we awoke with the Endurance docked at the port of Reine, on the largest of the Lofoten Islands.

It may not look like it, but we are still north of the Arctic Circle!

This was the view towards the interior. (Click on the image to enlarge.)

We had the morning free to wander around the town, but Joan and I first listened to Serguei, one of the Lindblad staff, discuss the centuries-old cod fishing industry, without which the islands would be of little note. Their location between the Barents Sea and the warm Atlantic currents lures the cod here yearly for breeding. These wooden racks are where the cod are dried for shipment.

Then we continued on a loop around the inner harbor, walking alongside the road.

Sometimes we could spot our ship on the far side.

There appeared to be no dry route circling back to the Endurance, so eventually Joan and I turned around and wandered through the village. On our way back to the ship, we heard that one of our number had fallen and perhaps had a stroke. When we arrived at the dock, we could see an ambulance, and indeed one couple disembarked gingerly, were helped into the ambulance along with their luggage, and headed to medical facilities.

Also parked at the dock was a "folkehogskole" van.

A folkehogskole, or "folk high school," is a post-high school institution, without grades or exams, that welcomes international students; there is a track for non-Norwegian speakers and a normal line, but you would be expected to learn enough Norwegian to keep up with conversations.

 

The bow of our ship showed some old rust and a shiny new spot from yesterday's adventure at Trollfjorden. Both would be cleaned up soon.

The Endurance then sailed a few miles to the islet of Vaeroya, part of the Lofoten archipelago. The small village of Mostad, where the ship anchored, was abandoned in the 1950s.

A long uphill hike, shorter hikes, and a photography walk were offered. Joan and I went on the uphill hike, a challenging altitude gain along a narrow path beaten through high, wet grasses sprinkled with mud, rocks, and a steep drop if you weren't careful. Joan and I were thankful for our poles. We were grateful for the rewarding view at the top, too.

Our gang. From up here, we could see sea eagles and falcons even higher up.

Photographic scenes beckoned in every direction.

The furthest peak hosted a radar dome. (Norway has been a NATO member for a long time.)

Below, we could see zodiacs ferrying the other guests back to the ship.

Then it was time to go back down. While the hike up had been sweaty and troublesome, the hike back down was treacherous. I lost my footing twice, but to no ill effect other than to my dignity. The sun was drawing closer to the sea as we descended.

The islets to the east were donning their evening cloaks.

Everyone made it down to the zodiacs safely. When I removed my calf-high rubber boots, I discovered a bloodstain in one sock. Evidently, the chaotic surface of our route had jammed one toenail into the side of an adjacent toe. The injury cleaned up well and posed no further problems.

Dinner was a special treat after our "long hike" efforts.