Stavanger and Surroundings

After 2 days on the free mooring of the Royal Norwegian Boating Association in Uskjo, it was time to mingle with people again, and besides, we were rather curious about Stavanger. That meant quite a detour, because the bridge on the east side of Stavanger only has 24 metres of air draft, so we weren’t going to make it under. The upside is that we get to see the area. We motor past lovely (yacht) harbours for the locals and very tidy suburbs. The (oil) money is practically dripping off everything. From the east we can’t see Stavanger’s old town, because an enormous cruise ship is parked in front of it.

As we come in, the first thing we see to port is a German frigate, the Rheinland-Pfalz, which we’ll run into a few more times later that week. Then an enormous cruise ship looms up, with the city wrapped around it. The only place with room for us is the marina right in the centre. A Boreal 47 is just leaving and hands us a perfect spot on a floating pontoon.

It’s warm, sunny and pleasantly busy around us. We have a lovely lunch at one of the many restaurants around the harbour. Afterwards we wander around a bit, but although the city is busy with British cruise passengers, most of the shops are closed. We walk past the oil museum and it doesn’t look too crowded. There’s just a busload of Dutch people milling about. It’s a nice museum, with a cinema-worthy short film about the impact on families, and lots of attention to the technology but also to the effects on nature and society.

It wasn’t until the nineties that they came up with the idea of putting the profits into a sort of pension fund for Norway, which now owns 1.4% of all shares worldwide. In 2020 they took 40 billion euros out of it because of COVID, but they can easily afford that, given it’s worth somewhere north of 1,000 billion euros…. Handled a lot better than we did with our gas! Later that afternoon our German neighbours from a lightweight trimaran moored in front of us invite themselves over to have a look at the boat. Clearly we’re something special.

It also turns out the cruise crowd isn’t very familiar with marina etiquette: every hour a few of them stroll down the pontoon past our boat. It feels like an invasion of your privacy. The next morning I’m standing inside, bare-chested, enjoying a coffee, when yet another whole group parades past. I just about manage to suppress the urge to go and sit half-naked in the cockpit. Later off to the supermarket, and on the way I picked up a couple of pairs of shorts and a polo shirt at the Helly Hansen store. Three for the price of two, and I get the 25% VAT back as well. At the supermarket, the usual price shock. 5 euros for 6 apples, that sort of thing. And €2.70 for a can of Heineken. Luckily we still have plenty of Brouwdok and Orkney beer on board.

We’d already been warned online, but on Wednesday a food and drink festival with stalls starts around the harbour. So on Tuesday afternoon we’re already casting off, and we’re down to our last line ashore when the harbour office finally shows up and asks when we’re leaving! Well, right now! Anything else we can do for you? A peculiar conversation. By the way, as in many places in Norway, collecting harbour dues is too much trouble, so it’s outsourced to an app on your phone. Odd. Wouldn’t work in the Netherlands, nobody would pay. Here you’re sometimes tempted too. Another German boat complains to the harbourmaster that he has to pay a lot and gets nothing in return. Where are the showers, toilets, etc.? In the other harbour, sir, it’s only a 10-minute walk…

That day we head for Skudesneshavn; I’d read online that it has a good fuelling spot and is a really nice little town. After a lovely sail under jib alone, nice weather and the wind on the beam again, plus a quick wave to the Rheinland-Pfalz, which is saving energy by sitting almost dead still in the middle of the fairway, we arrive in a truly adorable little place. The guest basin is a bit smaller than I’d estimated, and half the quays are “Privat” (Private)… But other skippers and someone from the sailing club reckon I can perfectly well squeeze into a spot where we do block 3 dinghies a little, but they don’t need to get out until Friday anyway. Lovely to be among sailors again without cruise passengers. Nice chats with an Englishman and a Norwegian follow. In the evening we have a good meal at the only restaurant that rises above snack-bar level. Instead of the monkfish she ordered, Ella gets the stockfish, which is pretty salty. But the IPA from the local brewery is really great. Unfortunately the next one is a different type and a lot less good. Afterwards we walk down the old high street, and it’s truly remarkable: the houses were plonked down at random hundreds of years ago and the narrow lane winds its way around them. Everything freshly painted again and very cute. We walk up to the viewpoint; the houses are tucked tight beneath the rock, and one wrong move and you could tumble straight into someone’s back garden or onto their roof. We reflect on how different it is in the UK, where everything seems riddled with “health and safety”: people in hi-vis shirts and jackets, signs and fences. Fortunately Norway hasn’t caught that bug yet.

Since a festival is starting here too on 1 July, we move on again the next morning. First some cheap fuel (423 L at €1.78 a litre) at the fishermen’s fuel dock, which has a high turnover and therefore very clean, fresh diesel, and then off to an anchorage again. In the Havneguiden the lagoon on Talgje looks really nice, but once there the entrance turns out to be a bit too narrow for us. Fortunately, on the other side of the channel a fresh KNBF mooring on Talgjeholmen is waiting for us. We stay here for two days and nights again. Nobody around, no houses in sight, no sound except a few times a day a small motorboat passing through the gap between the islands, and once a day the people who park their little motorboat against the rocks on the other side of the island. Delightful! The weather is now at its best: 24 degrees, clear blue skies and little wind. Ella even goes for a swim; the number of jellyfish has dropped a bit and with a mask you can easily swim around them. The water is still on the chilly side, though…

The next morning there’s still no wind, but if at all possible we want to get to southern Norway before we head home again next week. So we motor towards Egersund. That goes fine until we round the cape on the west coast and the wind, instead of the forecast 15 knots, is more like 25 to 30. Another 6 hours of this? No thanks, we’ll turn around. We put into Tananger, an utterly uninteresting industrial town that is, however, conveniently located with a very sheltered harbour. For lack of space we raft up alongside a Dutch boat, the Jantine, a Koopmans 46. Actually the Koopmans, since she once belonged to Dick Senior. It turned into a very convivial evening, so convivial that we invite the owners over for dinner the next day. It’s always striking how much you have in common thanks to sailing, and also how different people are and how much you can learn from each other. The wine stock has shrunk considerably once again.

Tomorrow afternoon we might have another go at Egersund, otherwise it’ll be Monday or Tuesday, and then perhaps straight on to the Netherlands. We’ll see….