The Southern Crossing of the Arctic Circle, and Seven Sisters

 November 14, 2022

Shadows cavorted with a golden sky and silver-shot sea as Monday morning dawned. The early light created layers of gray in the islands and skerries on the horizon. 

Late morning we crossed the invisible line at approximately 66 degrees North.  The Arctic Circle, marked with an iconic metal globe at this location, is the southernmost latitude where, on the shortest day of the year, the sun will not rise for 24 hours.  Likewise, on the longest day, it will not set for 24 hours.

As we neared and passed this globe, we all crowded the rails, vying for a photo in the weak morning light.  Being on the shorter side, I don't feel too guilty securing a rail spot and letting people shoot their photos over my head.

As the globe disappeared from our view, we were all called to participate in a Hurtigruten ritual, a spoonful of cod liver oil for our health.  We all gathered around, bundled to they eyeballs against the biting cold, to receive our dose.  The captain came out for the event and poured, while another crew member handed out the commemorative spoons.

Continuing our journey down the southern coast, we made a brief stop at the tiny town of Nesna.  I walked the length of the port side deck to take in all of the activity in this busy harbor.  At one end a local car ferry was just docking.

At the other end was a very unique sight.  Eleven tots, dressed in their winter woolies, were packed into two bicycle carts.  I got distracted watching cargo being loaded onto our ship, so I lost sight of them.  I've no idea if they were on some sort of field trip or if their parents were coming to meet them.  Since our ship is a part of the Coastal Express line, there are locals who use it to travel up and down the coast, even for just part of a day.  So it is possible that their parents were on the ship.

Very soon we pushed off and were again on our way south.  Clouds continued to hang over the icy sea.

As we were motoring a couple of hours further down the coast, a bright yellow boat suddenly zoomed towards us from the nearby town of Sandnessjoen.  Coming to a halt before slamming into our hull, it began to sidle up next to us.

Once secured, a couple of guys brought on first aid equipment.  Soon, a person was carried off into what was obviously an ambulance.

There were some moments of anxiety as we all leaned over the rail to see what was going on, but before we had a chance to assume the worst, the "victim" came smiling out of the ambulance and walked onto the ship on his own two legs.  Everyone cheered as the ambulance sped away.  It had all been a drill.

Scarcely had we retreated to the cozy indoor areas of the ship, and peeled off our layers, when we were called out to the deck again.  We were making our way down what is known as the Helgeland Coast, and the Seven Sisters were coming into view.

Two things Norway is known for is legends and trolls.  This unique range of seven peaks in succession has many legends attached to it.  One was told to us as we motored by.  It seems that a Norwegian king in days of yore, had seven troll daughters.  Despite his rigid control of them, one night they were able to sneak out while he was in a deep sleep.  Vegekallen, a troll who was seeking a wife, spotted them and gave chase.  The maidens fled down the coast, with other trolls with varied intentions joining the chase throughout the night hours.  As dawn broke, the sun turned the maidens to stone.  They now stand proudly, shoulder to shoulder, watching over the sea.