boats/ships Archives - Nine Years in Norway

Bergen Maritime Museum: Oselvar

March 15, 2015 by Cindi 16 Comments

Last summer we visited The Bergen Maritime Museum. As you can tell from those linked posts, I was intrigued by the seafaring history of Norway in general and my specific area of this country particularly. For several reasons, I found the Oselvar exhibit especially fascinating.

A little background about this type of boat, courtesy of my husband’s Internet sleuthing skills and his discovery of information from the Oselvarklubben/Oselvar Club:

“The Oselvar is a clinker built wooden boat from Hordaland with traditions dating back several thousand years. Archeological findings show large similarity to the Oselvar of today … The term term Oselvar was introduced around 1750 and points to the place were two boatbuilders had their work shop at the mouth of the Os river, entering the Bjørnefjorden …”

In other words, a few minutes from where I live now. 🙂 Continuing:

“From those two boatbuilders we can reconstruct and to a large degree document how the boatbuilders knowledge and skills was passed on from father to son during the following 250 years.”

Please do visit the webpage to read the complete information from the Oselvarklubben/Oselvar Club in English. It is a fascinating history, the details of making an Oselvar are given, and there are additional photos from perspectives I could never capture.

At the end of that page, there’s information about the Oselvarverkstaden, a workshop that opened at the mouth of the river in Osøryo to pass the historical knowledge of building these boats:

I occasionally see these boats sailing the fjord:

My “paintings and photographs: Mother and Child by the Sea” post shows this type of boat.

And, the Bergen Maritime Museum has an entire display, including models, drawings, sketches … and two actual boats from the 1800’s:

We were in Osøryo three weeks after visiting this display in July. I walked next to the river towards the Bjornafjorden to capture my seagulls photo. I was a short distance from Oselvarverkstaden/Oselva Workshop, pictured in the first gallery above. I felt as if I was walking through history. If you’ve been following my blog for any length of time, you know how I feel about that!

paintings and photographs: Mother and Child by the Sea

February 12, 2015 by Cindi 24 Comments

For this comparison in my occasional “paintings and photographs” series, I’m once again sharing my favorite Norwegian painter, Johan Christian Dahl. His subjects, landscapes, and colors sure speak to me!

Here’s a little background to offer historical perspective, paraphrased from a conversation with my Norwegian husband:

Norway is a beautiful country, but the coastlines, mountains, and fjords can be very dangerous. For centuries, Norwegians on the coast earned their living by fishing. In modern times there are huge trawlers who sail out in the big seas, but if we go back two or three hundred years there were only small row boats, maybe with a small sail. The rough seas were deadly, but fishermen had to go out.

During a visit to Lofoten, one of the most beautiful yet dangerous places to live in Norway, I met a young woman who told me a story her mother shared with her. The weather was rough, the menfolk had gone out to fish, and her mother was sitting in the kitchen at the table drinking coffee and looking out the window at the big waves and harsh winds. She could see the boat with her husband and her son. Because of the waves she could only see them from time to time. She saw that one of them had fallen out of the boat, and that was the last she ever saw of them. They disappeared.

I met an old priest on Lofoten. There are a number of small cemeteries there, and he took me to a few and showed me that, in earlier days, no men were buried in the ground. They were all drowned at sea.

With that brief insight, can you feel the reality and emotions of the women as they waited for their men? Uncertainty, fear, hardships, relief, hunger, fright. Gazing at the sea, straining for the first sight of a sail or boat. Not knowing if they’d return safely, or if the days would pass with only a gaping and empty sea. Days and days of this.

While thinking about the experience of those emotions, here’s Dahl’s painting:

Johan Christian Dahl - Mother and Child by the Sea

Johan Christian Dahl
Mor og barn ved sjøen
(Mother and child by the sea)
Source

A little boat, a fisherman, a wife and mother, a child. It looks as if there’s a threatening storm in the distance. The moon is out; is it setting or rising? They seem so close, one in a tiny boat and two on the rocks. The wind in the sails indicates the boat is approaching the shore. How long have they been waiting? The fishermen went out at three or four in the morning, and were usually home by noon. It’s very late. They’ve had a rough wait.

Can you imagine the emotions they were feeling?

Living where I do, I don’t have any photos of a cold moon over the sea, just those with the warmth of it rising or setting, or hanging in the sky over the mountains. But I have several images that, combined, give a glimpse of this seaside reality that Dahl painted: moon, anchor, water, boulders, boat, clouds.

Obviously I get pulled into an artist’s mind when I study his artwork. What paintings have you seen where you also experience such a strong emotional connection?

EDIT
Shelley, a favorite blogger, added a comment to this post that needs to be part of the original:

Your post reminded me of a Newfoundland poem.”Erosion” (1931) by E.J. Pratt

It took the sea a thousand years,
A thousand years to trace
The granite features of this cliff,
In crag and scarp and base.

It took the sea an hour one night,
An hour of storm to place
The sculpture of these granite seams
Upon a woman’s face.

Yeah, teaching Newfie kids whose family were fishermen was tough. You’d get the principal on the intercom asking you to send a student down to the office. Everyone would start crying. Everyone knew. Awful.

Statsraad Lehmkuhl: boats met on an August journey

January 17, 2015 by Cindi 20 Comments

Blah. That’s the only way to describe the weather these past few days. Dreary and rainy, it’s boring to be inside but miserable to be out during the short daylight hours.

To lift my spirits, I was looking through photos of more exhilarating times and found these, the last to be shared of our four-hour sailing adventure last August on the Statsraad Lehmkuhl. As we journeyed, other boats met and joined us. It reminded me a bit of the Pied Piper.

Remembering the way the wind, clouds, sun, rain, rainbow, waves, seas, and emotions mixed is uplifting now!

A few images and short video of that part of the adventure:

August 20, 2014 - boats met on the journey

How about one from Christmas, when we glimpsed the Statsraad Lehmkuhl’s holiday spirit through the car window as we drove to Sandviken to spend time with our grandson?

December 26, 2014 - Statsraad Lehmkuhl and Christmas

There. That helps to lift the dreary-day spirits. Now, to continue that, I think I’ll go over to get a sneak peek of the songs submitted for Michelle’s dance party. Come and join the fun! Which one makes you move?

Ole Bull, music, and Lysøen

September 21, 2014 by Cindi 17 Comments

I’ve shared highlights of Ole Bull’s life before, as well as memories of my first concert in Norway back in 2006 at his summer home on Osterøy. But I see Ole Bull’s Lysøen villa every time I look out my windows …

May 22, 2014 - Ole Bull's Lysøen villa

… and for two summers now, from my perspective 100 meters above the fjord, I’ve watched the boat shuttle go faithfully back and forth taking tourists, hikers, and concert goers to the island …

May 2014 - Ole Bull's Lysøen shuttle

… and last weekend, finally!, I visited the island for music and a closer look. I’ve spent so much time gazing out my windows at our amazing view that it was a little surreal to be gazing up at our place.

From the Bergen Guide’s website:

The beautiful and extraordinary villa on Lysøen (the Island of Light) was built for the Norwegian violin-virtuoso Ole Bull in 1873. Ole Bull’s charismatic personality and musical excellence had a great influence on contemporary artists.

He spent his summers relaxing on the isle of Lysøen, and often invited fellow artists and musicians. Ole Bull also transformed his 175 acre island property into a fairy-tale kingdom by having romantic paths (approx. 13 km.), ponds and gazebos made by planting exotic trees and bushes in the native pine forest. Ole Bull died on his island in 1880.

In 1973 his granddaughter Mrs. Sylvea Bull Curtis of Connecticut donated the villa and all its contents to the Society for the Preservation of Norwegian Ancient Monuments.

I took the short seven minute journey across the Lysefjord and, once arriving at the island, sat for a moment taking it all in. The sunlight was very bright, making it difficult to see our apartment up on top of the hill opposite my seat.

Walking the path next to the swimming area towards the villa, I enjoyed seeing it from its side view.

September 14, 2014 - Ole Bull's Lysøen

Once up next to it, it seemed even larger than I expected. I walked around, taking a few photos; the sunlight was so bright, though, that the blue appears washed out.

As I was walking around the villa, I stopped to watch the boat continuing its round trip journey bringing others to the island, visited the monument to Ole Bull’s granddaughter who donated this wonderful place to Norway, gazed across the fjord’s inlet to the old farm, and walked up the path just behind the villa to sit and experience a little nature and peacefulness … while my eyes kept looking back across the fjord towards our place.

And then it was time for the concert!

September 14, 2014 - Ole Bull's Lysøen

Music of Balakirev, Ole Bull, Zimbalist, Paganini, and Piazzolla. Just as my first time experiencing music in such an intimate setting, I sat in the music hall of the home that a famous Norwegian composer built, with views of the country that inspired his music visible through the windows. Except this time … I belonged; I could see our apartment across the fjord, and wondered how many times I’d looked at the villa while other concerts were going on inside.

After the concert I took a short guided tour; I’ll share those photos and thoughts next time.

With the last boat’s departure time of 4:30 pm approaching, I reluctantly began my way back to the dock. Seeing the number of people waiting I purposely hung back, and was rewarded with a too-full boat so was able to stay and absorb the surroundings for another round. The villa, the flagpole, our house, a small wooden boat anchored and then being rowed, the shallow area that is filled with children and families swimming during the hot days, tiny fish swimming around the dock, the shuttle boat returning for us, and the short journey back to land …

… it was magic!

(Here is where Ole Bull’s villa on Lysøen is located on the map.)

Bergen Maritime Museum: boys becoming men on a training ship

September 16, 2014 by Cindi 10 Comments

Remember our visit to the Bergen Maritime Museum in mid July? Life has been a full, busy, and ever-evolving adventure since then, including a quick vacation in Spain, a trip on the Statsraad Lehmkuhl, another adventure I’m getting thoughts together to share this weekend (hint: it involves a visit to the view outside my front windows), and family time … but I thought it was time to share another important exhibit from the museum about the initial purpose of the Statsraad Lehmkuhl as a training ship.

Discipline – Independence – Cooperation

Training ships under sail

First, a couple images and background from the museum’s website and brochure:

Source

from the Bergens Maritime Museum’s brochure

I took a few photos of the exhibit’s photographic display, thinking it wouldn’t be captured well through a camera lens. Are they enough to help you visualize the exhibit?

July 12, 2014 - Bergen Maritime Museum Training Ship exhibit

But what really personalized this exhibit for me was listening to my husband’s thoughts. He recognized one of the young boys pictured as an acquaintance from his early 1950’s Bergen neighborhood, and also remembers his parents and grandparents sharing the stories of their part of this living history. His words:

Using Statsraad Lemkuhl as a training ship for young boys to become sailors is to institutionalize an age old tradition in Bergen, and other sea faring cities along the West Coast of Norway.

But Bergen was by far the biggest city and for hundreds of years the most important and busy harbor in Northern Europe.

So, Bergen, already a melting pot of Norwegians, Germans, Dutch, English and other Scandinavians, attracted sailors from all over Europe to find a ship.

The “Immigrant sailors” were mostly grown men, but locally, boys from Bergen and the area around it, were sent on board a ship at the age between 12 to 15 years. They started as “Førstereisgutt”, which means “First Trip Boy”, and they sailed throughout the world; Asia, the Americas, Africa and Europe.

The other part of this tradition we can date back to the Viking age. Up until the late fifties, sailors were gone for three to four years. In the old days, when the men folk went “a viking”, they were gone for years and many did not come back, either lost at sea or settled somewhere else.

The main point is that either as vikings or sailors, when they were gone, the women had to take care of everything. Housing, food, children, protecting their family; it was the responsibility of the women.

That is an important part of the Norwegian culture.

I come from such a family. Both on my mother’s and father’s side, I am the first man NOT to be a sailor. For hundreds of years all the men in my family, both sides, have been sent to sea at a very young age. My father was 12 when he sailed to Asia, my mother was married when she was 17 and a widow at the age of 18 and my grandmother was alone with four children for five years …

That really expands on the exhibit, doesn’t it?

That was then. And now? As I shared before, the Statsraad Lehmkuhl is still introducing civilians to sailing. But she’s also giving cadets and school children specific opportunities to learn. Visit her Facebook page to see her most recent “sailors”!

weather, planes, water, introspection: the journey home

September 7, 2014 by Cindi 24 Comments

It’s been nice to have you traveling with me on our recent sailing/motoring trip on Bergen’s Statsraad Lehmkuhl. It’s time to finish the journey!

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

As you’ve seen in my earlier posts, the clouds and sky seemed to play tag throughout the three and a half hour journey. Sometimes we had warm sun, and other times the clouds covered that sun. Looking at the sky from our perspective was intriguing; the texture enhanced the Norwegian landscape and waters.

We could see the rain clouds moving in as we journeyed south on one side of the island of Bjorøyna, and especially as we turned to begin the journey north back to the Bergen Harbor. Passing Flesland (the Bergen airport) was fascinating for me. We’d just landed there a few days earlier after our trip home from Spain; seeing the planes land and take off from the perspective of the water, especially with the clouds, rain, and wind, gave me a whole new appreciation for the steady hands of the pilots!

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

As my “sneak peek” showed, the combination of sun and rain created a special moment: a rainbow, its top hidden in the clouds but the other side seeming to end at, appropriately, Lysekloster. Home! The rainbow hung in the air for quite a while: fading, getting more intense, fading again. Isn’t weather engaging and intriguing?

I captured a few images over the side of the ship. The look of the fairly smooth waters being disturbed by the ship’s passing was mesmerizing.

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

The bow had been full of other passengers while Jan and I were sitting on the stern, but I noticed it had cleared out a bit … and so, after turning north and passing Flesland again (which you’ll see in the video), I made my way up the steep stairs and discovered that, except for the sailor watching over that part of the ship, I was the only one there. According to the time stamps on my images I stood there for about thirty minutes, but it could have been five minutes or five hours; I lost complete track of everything and just lived in the moment.

I watched the play of setting sun and clouds, the wind and seas, the rain drops and sunbeams. It was an introspective time: just me, the wind-chased clouds playing tag with the sun and then covering its light almost completely, the rain clouds and wind enthusiastically pelting raindrops against my face and speckling my glasses and camera lens, and the smooth motoring below me.

I hate being on “the other” side of a lens and don’t normally take (much less share) real selfies, but I had to capture the moment of me at the bow with the masts of the Statsraad Lehmkuhl rising behind me. The sun’s light was amplified by the cloud, but I had to hang onto my hood as the rain driven wind was beginning to hit me — it was refreshing and invigorating and I really wanted to shout “I’m King of the World” (except we couldn’t get quite that close to the bow as portrayed in the Titanic movie).

But I was shouting it in my head!

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

We approached the Askøy bridge, and of course I captured it, craning my neck up and around, then turning around, to take it all in. Raindrops dotted the camera lens, and added an authentic watery look to the images.

Finally, figuring that my husband was probably beginning to worry I’d fallen overboard, I made way back to mid-ship. As my drenched self was walking up to him, ready to explain my absence, Jan smiled and said, “I *knew* where you were!”

Well, actually he burst out laughing; I think my “drenched self” looked quite amusing, probably like the proverbial drowned rat!

I had a difficult time sitting still. We next passed under the bridge to Sotra; I jumped up to capture that perspective from mid-ship on the starboard side. (These images were taken with a musical accompaniment — a gently-rowdy group who’d enjoyed several pints of Hansa beer began singing “… like a bridge over troubled waters …” to the amusement and delight of everyone.)

And finally, we were back in Byfjorden. I went back up to the bow — more crowded with people now, anticipating the return to the harbor — and looked back towards the Sotra bridge, with the ship’s masts and forward-bell centered in the image …

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

… and then forward towards Bergen and her familiar mountain silhouettes.

We entered the harbor. Almost back in port!

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

My camera’s rechargeable batteries almost at their end, I captured a few images of the crew throwing out the anchoring ropes as we moved carefully into port.

The gangplank was set in place.

And finally, reluctantly, it was time to disembark.

August 20, 2014 - the journey home

What wonderful memories I took with me as I walked back onto solid land! Here’s a short compilation of those shared in this post.

If you’re ever in Bergen during the summer and want to experience an evening trip, visit the Statsraad Lehmkuhl’s website to see what Fjord cruises are available. You can also take part in a longer sailing cruise where you learn how to operate the ship and experience a little real life sailing! (It looks as if they also have Pirate tours … wouldn’t THAT be a fun time with your kids?! 🙂 )

Sailing? or should that be Motoring?

August 31, 2014 by Cindi 20 Comments

I hope you’ve been enjoying my Statsraad Lehmkuhl trip so far; I’ve enjoyed reliving the moments! Today I’d like to share the experience of sailing … but since we were on the inner fjords in the Bergen area and no sails could be raised, that should probably read “motoring”!

Are you familiar with Godfrey Marks’ children’s song of 1880 about sailing on the ocean?

Sailing, sailing over the bounding main
Where many a stormy wind shall blow
‘Ere Jack comes home again.

It ran through my head a couple times as we were enjoying our trip. But it’s not an exact description of our experience. The sails weren’t up, the wind wasn’t stormy, and we weren’t out on the bounding main/open seas. So, should it be this refrain instead?

Smoothly motoring over the inland fjord
Where many a wind-swept raindrop fell
and hit-my-Uggs on-the deck-boards.

(Now that you see my true poetic talents, I hope you won’t unfollow me. 😉 )

There have been a couple comments on my previous posts that it looked cold and choppy. Yes, the wind sounds loud in my videos; depending on the side of the ship I was on, especially when facing the Norwegian Sea, it was windy and the waters show that disturbance. But on a ship the size of the Statsraad Lehmkuhl, it was such a smooth trip! We were very comfortable. We know this part of the world; we dressed in layers (and brought hats, gloves, and scarves in a backpack, but didn’t need them), and relished every moment of fresh air, wind, sunshine, clouds, and rain.

And there was always that tarp/canvas to sit under if it got too rainy, and the warmth and coziness of below deck — with food and drink — beckoned.

But I didn’t take advantage of those comforts for very long. I wanted to be OUT in the elements to experience everything!

After leaving the Bergen Harbor, we turned south and traveled next to Askøy, passing under the Askøy bridge while I was downstairs eating and socializing. The video of this part of the journey begins as I came up on deck just in time to see the cruise ship after it had passed us; it turned north while we turned south to travel past Litlesotra, under the Sotra bridge, and continue south between Sotra and Bjorøyna. Just south of Bjorøyna was the half-way point of our journey, and we slowly turned to begin the trip back to Bergen.

Here’s a map of the journey so far; do you see Lysekloster in the lower right of that image? So close, yet so far away from home! 🙂

August 20, 2014 – motoring

Before the short video, here’s a gallery of a few of my favorite images from this first half of the trip. We were sitting on the stern, looking through the side rigging or up towards the sky, enjoying the views of the islands we were passing, the changing shapes of the familiar mountains rising in the distance, and the interplay of sun, white clouds, and rain clouds overhead and off in the distance.

And my video; it includes the cruise ship as she turned north, the bells ringing on the Statsraad Lehmkuhl, the peace of the journey on one side of the ship and the intensity of the wind on the other, and the rain clouds visible as we turned at the half way point of the trip.

Want a sneak peek of what we saw as we were turning?

August 20, 2014 – rainbow

Perfect skies for a trip of this type!

Next weekend it’s the rest of the journey, including my favorite part of the trip: standing (almost) alone on the bow!

Statsraad Lehmkuhl: leaving the Bergen Harbor

August 30, 2014 by Cindi 16 Comments

This week I have had the most fun reliving our short fjord journey as I went through my photos and edited the videos. I’d thought to have a complete “sail trip” post today, but decided it really needs to be broken up even more to avoid a ridiculously long post that would be difficult for anyone to follow. So, today’s photos and short video are about leaving the Bergen Harbor and entering Byfjorden: the beginning of our trip south on the inner fjord waters around Bergen.

As she began to move, I walked from starboard to port and back again, setting my camera on the rail, snapping and recording, capturing the experience of this large ship backing slowly out of her berth and turning about 220 degrees to face the mouth of the harbor and begin the journey. It was so gentle and slow, I had a hard time believing we were moving; of course that makes sense, as there can’t be any heavy waves or wake in a harbor, but the reality was even more quietly intense than I’d expected. The underwater propellers made interesting patterns on the surface of the water (which I was able to capture in the video).

I remember looking at the people standing and watching us, thinking what it must be like for them to see this large ship back and gracefully turn. Perhaps they were a little envious of those of us on board?

After turning, I took one final shot towards Bryggen, with the Fløibanen tracks rising up Fløyen, and Ulriken’s tower barely visible past the rigging.