A Summer Migration South
By Dave and Jaja

Leg one: Northern Norway to Jan Mayen Island. 510 miles.

Why does it take only a day or two to winterize a boat, but two weeks of nonstop work to un-winterize?

DRIVER had been sitting in the boatyard at Svolvaer, Norway, for ten months. The work list to get her launched and ready for sea was long: Weld on new zincs, grease the MaxProp, grease the rudder bearings, grease winches, end-for-end the anchor chain, change the engine oil, paint the bottom, clean out the diesel tank, check all the pumps, bend on the mainsail, check the rigging, check the life raft, flush out the fresh water tanks, fill the propane bottles, epoxy some rust patches, re-silicon a leaky hatch, put the weather clothes back on, re-install the solar panels and wind generator, provision, and last, try to be polite to people who had nothing to do but stand around and make polite chit-chat.

Our upcoming passage to Jan Mayen Island had the potential to be a real gear breaker. Sailing at 71 degrees north latitude can be serious business. Everything on DRIVER had to be in top form. It goes without saying that being well prepared is a prerequisite when sailing offshore. FEELING well prepared takes it a step further. KNOWING I've done all that is possible eases our worry load when bad weather strikes.

It's crucial to have everything in working order before a voyage begins so that I have time to fix all the unexpected problems along the way. More to the point, we'd been in the water for only four days, and had begun cruising toward Nykvaag harbor on the windward side of the Lofoten Islands, when the depth sounder began smoking. Later, when I opened the unit up, I discovered that a small, blue, electronic component had suffered a melt down. As I looked inside, examining all those multi-colored cylindrical doodads, I wondered why there had to be so many of them. Why isn't there just one thingy that can do the work of many? I decided that the depth sounder wouldn't notice if I bypassed the fried part. I took a short length of wire and jumped the contacts. This experiment resulted in two other doodads having similar melt downs. I had to face facts: The depth sounder was dead.

What irked me most is that the 15 year old depth sounder had chosen its moment of expiration immediately AFTER we had launched, instead of sometime BEFORE we had hauled-out the summer before. What kind of a joke is that to play on someone?

On July third, the day after the depth sounder conked out, the weather forecast was perfect for heading offshore: A huge high pressure system was dominating the Norwegian sea. The winds would be light, but the alternative was sailing in a gale. If we delayed our departure, with trying to buy and install a new sounder, this gift from the weather gods would be wasted. We felt it was better to take advantage of the whims of the elements rather than clash with the whims of electronics.

We set off.

Our 4 day passage to Jan Mayen from Northern Norway was perfect. Light winds, calm seas, and abundant wildlife adorned our visible world. Our mental world was at ease due to our physical world being in such great shape.

We saw more whales than ever; Sperms, Rights, and Humpbacks. A spume was nearly always visible on the horizon, and tail flukes caught our eyes frequently. A pod of Orca crossed behind us one afternoon. Miraculously, the kids were on deck and they all saw the pointed dorsals and white markings.

A front passed over us on the last day of our passage, bringing rain and 38-degree temperatures. But the wind was abeam and it meant good sailing. The ceiling was low, however, and all we could see of Jan Mayen was surf crashing on snow covered hills.

Jan Mayen is 30 miles long. At the northeast end there is a 4,000 foot conical volcano. The south end terminates in shear cliffs. The middle section of the island is low and beachy, with a slight indentation. This is where we would try to anchor. As we came under the lee of the land the wind began to peter out. I fired up the engine and we proceeded cautiously. Our chart showed that the depths in the small indentation were around 15 feet.

Jaja took her position on the bow and looked in vain for signs of the bottom, but the water was churned and cloudy. Out of habit, I kept glancing at the broken depth sounder. Stupidly, I had forgotten to make a lead line for sounding the depths. Jaja thought we were getting too close to shore, so I pushed the tiller hard over. At that instant DRIVER's keel slammed into sea floor. A low swell was rolling into the bay. With our keel now resting on the bottom, DRIVER healed over to 30 degrees in the swell's trough. The next incoming swell lifted us a little, then set us violently down on the bottom again. The surf line was suddenly closer than we thought.

We were stranded.