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A trip report by Olle Persson, shared by Långholmen Kajak – the Swedish part of Northkayak.
Along the rugged Norwegian coast, just north of Lofoten, lies the island group of Vesterålen in Nordland county. One of its larger islands is Andøya, known as a starting point for whale safaris into the North Atlantic. The scenery is simply magnificent: a wild, alpine landscape with high mountains dropping steeply into the sea, alternating with low islands and sandy beaches. Just off Andøya lies Tindsøya, and in a secluded bay there lies Skipnes – an abandoned fishing village with a disused little fish factory. With Skipnes as its base, an annual gathering for sea kayakers from around the world was held here: the Arctic Sea Kayak Ramble. And this is where a group of keen sea paddlers from Brunnsvikens kanotklubb in Stockholm headed.
The base for the Arctic Sea Kayak Ramble: the abandoned fishing village of Skipnes on Tindsøya in Nordland. In sunshine it looks truly idyllic – but no fishing boats land at the quay any more.
With a fully loaded canoe trailer in tow, we get to experience how big – or at least how long – Scandinavia is. We think we have arrived when we reach Narvik, but the narrow road winding endlessly between mountains on one side and sea on the other, on up towards Vesterålen, never seems to end. Our destination is Kråkberget, a jetty in a fjord surrounded by high mountains. It is drizzling and blowing hard. The next day we are to paddle just under ten kilometres out to Tindsøya, so we hunker down in our tents, well anchored against the wind.
When we paddle out, the wind has eased a little, but rain and dry spells alternate, and a support boat carries our luggage. It is July – high summer in Stockholm – but here, far north of the Arctic Circle, conditions are almost arctic, with temperatures of 10–14 °C. Dry spells come and go, but there are daily showers of rain, snow or hail, and the wind is constantly fresh, sometimes gale force. For us it is exotic and exciting; for the local paddlers it is just another day.
About a hundred paddlers gather in the harbour bay – mostly from Europe, but some from other continents too. A long day trip awaits, and we get to feel the Atlantic waves. The first hours are deceptively calm. When we take a break on the beach of the little island of Sandholmen, masses of colourful kayaks lie pulled up on the sand. It looks festive, and people are happy, excited and well wrapped up.
A break in the lee before heading out onto the fjord. Masses of colourful kayaks on the beach of Sandholmen.
We head out onto the wide, open Børøyfjorden. Luckily for our balance, it is a headwind on a straight westerly course – because suddenly the swell rises like a steep wall ahead of us. In the troughs you can see nothing; on the dizzying crests the whole North Atlantic seems to lie before us. A rolling support boat picks up those who capsize. We round the steep, high mountain of Tinden and relax once we are out of the worst waves. Back on shore, several paddlers pack up and leave the event early – for some, it was simply too much.
It is not only the landscape that is wild – the wildlife is rich too. White-tailed eagles, often in pairs, soar high above us and along the mountainsides. Puffins, the "parrots of the north", dive surprisingly fearlessly for food just a few metres from the kayaks, surfacing with small fish hanging from their colourful beaks and eyeing us in a friendly way. A porpoise makes a long leap just ahead of our bows. The waters are rich in whales, but sadly we do not see any.
Below the mountain of Tinden, a few white houses huddle together. Here there is a general store that also serves as the post office. The shopkeeper, 85 years young, eagerly waves us in as we paddle past – he is a well-known local character. If you want to buy something, you put your money in the open till and take your own change. For an almost symbolic price we are served waffles while the shopkeeper tells tall tales, and from a special freezer he shows us some frozen trophies: a seal, a white-tailed eagle and a Christmas tree.
One trip takes us across the rolling, open Børøyfjorden to Skogsøya. On the way back we pass the wreck of a Russian warship lying upside down next to a skerry. Next to it, local jokers have built a miniature submarine out of large stones – said to be the one that sank the ship.
The week of intense sea kayaking ends with an unofficial world championship marathon for sea kayaks. Some of our club mates take part, but we older paddlers sit it out: the course runs partly on completely open sea and feels far too risky – and unnecessarily long. Instead we paddle calmly back to Kråkberget, enjoying the fantastic landscape, and join the other participants at a hotel in Sortland, the nearest town, for a joint dinner and prize-giving. And warm rooms: after a warm shower, we can put on properly dry clothes for the first time in a week – and skip the only working shower at Skipnes, the one with ice-cold fjord water.
Text: Olle Persson
