One week with action and happenings to fill a month!
To participate in the Tall Ships' Races 2011, I left my coworkers in a nasty situation, because my boss way back had given me a week off, and there were only three journalists left working because the rest was on holiday.
I felt a bit bad.
But I quickly forgot about that, because my days were so packed from the minute I arrived in Stavanger to when I was back in my own bed 10 days later, that I didn't have time to feel bad.
To participate in the Tall Ships' Races 2011, I left my coworkers in a nasty situation, because my boss way back had given me a week off, and there were only three journalists left working because the rest was on holiday.
I felt a bit bad.
But I quickly forgot about that, because my days were so packed from the minute I arrived in Stavanger to when I was back in my own bed 10 days later, that I didn't have time to feel bad.
Norwegian marines preparing for opening show on Statsraad Lehmkuhl.
Norway's pride! Crazy beautiful Statsraad Lehmkuhl.
Last year I passed a poster in Stavanger with a nice ship on.
«Wow, pretty boat! I want to go sailing!»
Sailing with a tall ship has been on my life list for three years, and it was pretty convenient that I suddenly saw this poster about young people on sail training.
I entered the office and talked to the man who was responsible, and he told me that Stavanger in 2011 would be one of the host ports in Tall Ships' Races '11, and that I could sign up for a week as trainee on one of the ships.
I was ecstatic.
I sent a bunch of e-mails to the office even before the announcement about trainees was out, and finally I got an answer that I would be sailing on the Dutch vessel «Gulden Leeuw».
I was also to be a volunteer during the festival when all the ships were in Stavanger.
Pretty crowded! And sunny!!
Stavanger was crowded that weekend. People everywhere, stands, lively market and thirty-forty tall ships berthing in Vågen in the middle of Stavanger.
What a sight.
Funny balloon-man
Vågen by night.
I was titled «crew friend», and my task was to socialise with the trainees and cadets and help them if they needed advise og guiding in the city.
Sounds easy, but it wasn't.
Because my ship was «Sedov». «Sedov» is Russian. And Russians have a very different perception of situations than I do. And they are shy, and speak very little English.
So, there I was. One blonde, outgoing girl among seventy uniformed, shy, young Russian boys who were very suppressed by the military hierarchy onboard. Fascinating, but frustrating.
The result was that after one day of people just staring at me, not daring to talk to me – except the first mate who loved talking to me and inviting me out for dinner, which was not really the point («crew friend» was, I fear, commonly misunderstood as another kind of entertainment on the Russian ships).
The next days I just helped out wherever needed, and spent most of the time with some sweet girls I met, running in and out of all the ships and just enjoying the activity and live music around the port.
So, there I was. One blonde, outgoing girl among seventy uniformed, shy, young Russian boys who were very suppressed by the military hierarchy onboard. Fascinating, but frustrating.
Here you can see a cultural crash. They were nice, though.
The result was that after one day of people just staring at me, not daring to talk to me – except the first mate who loved talking to me and inviting me out for dinner, which was not really the point («crew friend» was, I fear, commonly misunderstood as another kind of entertainment on the Russian ships).
The next days I just helped out wherever needed, and spent most of the time with some sweet girls I met, running in and out of all the ships and just enjoying the activity and live music around the port.
Much easier to socialise with Dutch people. Here on a random, Dutch vessel.
Magical
Thursday to Saturday as a volunteer, and then I shipped on the Dutch tallship «Gulden Leeuw».
I was to sail with her from Stavanger to Halmstad in Sweden with around 70 trainees, mostly from Norway and Sweden.
I was to sail with her from Stavanger to Halmstad in Sweden with around 70 trainees, mostly from Norway and Sweden.
The Golden Lion!
Artsy naval photo
Sunday morning we made way for the open sea to start the actual race.
A day filled with the most beautiful sights. I felt I had fallen into a painting from the 16th century. I was speechless (for once).
A day filled with the most beautiful sights. I felt I had fallen into a painting from the 16th century. I was speechless (for once).
A sight for gods!
I might be weird, but this gives me goosebumps.
No comment. It doesn't need any.
What a week.
The list of negative things was long;
*Too many young people
*Too many Norwegians
*60-70 people sleeping in the same room below deck (that means a lot of snoring, farting and otherlovely sleeping-noises)
*60-70 people sleeping in the same room below deck (that means a lot of snoring, farting and otherlovely sleeping-noises)
*70 cms wide three-storey bunkbeds
*Pea soup for lunch
*My watch group had the dogwatch; from 1pm to 4pm and 1am to 4am
*Two showers for 40 girls
Et cetera, et cetera.
*Two showers for 40 girls
Et cetera, et cetera.
But, as it often is, these things slowly moved to the list of positive and memorable things.
I can highly recommend Jungle Speed! Great entertainment, including risks of getting a blue eye.
Now I can't think of one thing that I would have changed. It was all just perfect.
Living closely together with all these strangers turned us into one big family after five days at sea.
Getting up after three hours of sleep with a bunch of sleepy, but awesome and funny people.
Pulling ropes until my hands were deep purple and burning.
One, two, PULL!
Bye bye, soft piano hands!
Hoisting the Danish flag after leaving Norwegian waters.
Pictures like this make me smile now
Being interrupted during breakfast by screaming people, and run out on deck to see dolphins playing alongside the ship somewhere off Denmark's coast.
Playing cards after dinner.
Conquering my fear of heights and climbing up to the highest point of the square mast.
Sitting 30 metres above deck with the sun in my face and the wind in my hair, holding on to only a thin wire, looking down on the endless, shining mass of water around us, is one of the best feelings I have ever had.
Conquering my fear of heights and climbing up to the highest point of the square mast.
Thrill
I was all the way up there, believe it or not!
Sitting 30 metres above deck with the sun in my face and the wind in my hair, holding on to only a thin wire, looking down on the endless, shining mass of water around us, is one of the best feelings I have ever had.
On top of the world back down on deck
Living and working on a 20 degrees angle - that includes eating soup and showering.
Just hanging around waiting for lunch.
Getting up early after late night watch to help the chef preparing breakfast.
Being the one at the wheel, actually steering the freaking 80 meter long, three-masted tallship!
Apart from the clothes, I would say there is no difference between me and Russel Crowe in "Master and commander".
Oh yes. Those five days just erased two and a half months of grey and rainy afternoons.
Freedom
Taking a break
Great people. Funny how 70 people can become so familiar during so short a period.
World's end
We didn't really get into hard weather.
Not at all.
The weather was (for the first time in my life) so nice that it was a problem. We actually had to go in direction of Great Britain for a night to find some wind. We didn't succeed.
And because we had a schedule to follow, the race was cancelled after only three days, and all had to use the engines to reach Halmstad in time.
We got there around midnight Thursday, and were permitted to take a stroll along the port.
I became landsick! Suddenly the ground didn't move anymore.
Fascinating.
Haha, this is a "Gulden Leeuw" joke. Great people in a park in Halmstad.
WOOP!
WOOP!
I couldn't resist taking a picture. On board of "Gloria", a Columbian military ship. I couldn't get over those tight, white uniforms!
Compared to the "spaghetti" on "Gulden Leeuw", this is from a higher dimension.Columbian artwork. If you ever tried coiling rope, you know why I still just stare at this and shake my head in disbelief.
Sailors ashore. Note the hats.
The last time onboard. Perfect moment.
The Golden Lion! Lisa is ready for crew parade.
In every host port during the TSR, there is a crew parade where every ship does its' best to show the others how cool they are. Because of some bad organisation from Stavanger, all the Norwegians had to leave Halmstad Saturday, this meaning that we missed both the crew parade and the final crew party at night. I was pretty pissed off during the bus trip to Copenhagen before the flight back to Stavanger.
And I was sad for having to leave all these funny and nice and fascinating people after so short time together, knowing that I probably won't see them again. But the memories I keep close.
Now the fun part;
I am very easily influenced. Very. By anything.
From the moment I set my foot on a deck, I was completely lost.
So, during the first morning in Stavanger, I was already considering everything from stealing a ship and become a pirate to joining the navy. Didn't matter how or what, as long as I could sail.
That fascination didn't diminish after actually being out at open water, feeling the power of the wind and seeing naught but blue masses around me.
I had fallen in love with the sea.
After working one more month, I had fixed my "problem".
Joining the navy would be great, but that's for a year, and I needed to go NOW.
I sent out e-mails to 25 tallships in search for hire.
And I got a job on Tallship Astrid from Vlissingen in Holland.
My home for the next two months. Pretty, right?:)
Result:
Now I am sitting in Stavanger, waiting for my plane to Amsterdam later this afternoon.
I have my life packed down in a big bag for the fourth time in my life, and despite already being tired of travelling (got up at 5 am) and knowing that I will arrive at 01 am in a foreign place where I don't even know who I'm going to meet, I feel fine.
Good.
Great.
This is exactly where I should be - heading for (now also literally) unknown waters and distant shores, hunting down my dreams.
BRING ME THAT HORIZON!
