A Scandinavian Winter - chapter 2

Day 3 - When the boat comes in and I become a member of The Royal and Ancient Polar Bear Society.

Well, who knew? Even without the sun you get about 3 hours of almost light! It is not nearly as dark during the morning up here as I expected. In fact the snow, the moon (almost full) and the fact that the sun must be just below the horizon mean it is actually quite light for a few hours during the day. I ventured out at about 9.30am by which time it was “twilight”, by which I mean “civil twilight” - a nerdy explanation will follow for those who have nothing better to do. But suffice to say for now, it is roughly like a miserable winter day in England but without the rain, for about 3 hours anyway, and then it starts to get darker again. But much nicer - fresh, cold, dry and rather exhilarating. Bit like being in a ski resort, without the skis and sunshine! But the fact that everything is covered in snow makes it all seem rather lovely. It has to be said that by about 2pm it is pretty dark again but it is not the perpetual darkness I had imagined.

My first wanders took me to the Royal and Ancient Polar Bear Society, which allegedly opened at 10am. But clearly didn’t! It being sited right next to the Hurtigruten terminal (hut), I wondered if it might open later when the boat docked, it being firmly aimed at the tourists. So without a wasted moment I headed for the rather funky Arctic style church (presumably the roof is this steep so the snow falls off?), where I also couldn’t get in due to a funeral taking place. I decided it would beyond even my cheek to join in. So I was batting 0 for 2 in my 3 hours of daylight when my phone rang and I took a call from Hurtigruten, who informed me that several people on the boat I was just about to board had gone down with Covid and did I want to reschedule or have a refund. What!!! I can’t stay in Hammerfest. For one agonising moment I thought they were about to cancel the whole ferry and I would be stuck there forever. OK, it's not as dark as I thought but I don’t think I could live there! And where is the benefit of midnight sun - fine for a novelty once in a while but most of us do need to sleep!

So having reassured the Hurtigruten staff I was more than happy to board, I then spent the rest of the time worrying that the cold I seem to have just developed would be mistaken for Covid and they would bar me from getting on board anyway! And so it was, quaking in my boots, I submitted myself to the obligatory temperature check soon after the boat had docked. I realised I didn’t have a plan B. If they wouldn’t allow me on, I supposed I could fly back to Oslo but presumably having forfeited the cost of the voyage. It would be a very expensive mistake. As it happens, it's just a cold. Temperature was normal and they allowed me on. I had a sneezing fit as I entered my cabin but hopefully nobody heard it. And I still had an hour to go, so dumped the bag, and headed straight off again to the now open Polar Bear Society. And of course I am now a proud member. I'm not sure its a membership I am going to get a lot out of but I have made my financial contribution to supporting the preservation of these magnificent animals - after flying to get here. The irony is not lost on me!

By 2pm, with the boat far away from Hammerfest and negotiating one of the thousands of fjords, it was just about pitch black outside again. So despite the welcome half light of the morning it certainly doesn’t last long round here at this time of the year.

I lasted as long as I could out on deck while the beautiful scenery gradually disappeared with the fading light - and also to stay away from as many people as possible while my nose is running!

There will be plenty of time for writing (no, don't groan), reading, and meditation on this trip, given the roughly 18 or so hours of total darkness each day!

Which of course brings me to the science (look away if you are bored) …

The three hour (roughly) stretch of near light was in fact the “civil twilight”, when the sun is apparently just below the horizon - between 0º and 6º below (not very dark, especially in the snow). Either side of that is “nautical twilight” when the sun is between 6º and 12º below (darker). Finally either side of that is “astronomical twilight”. Yep, you guessed - 12º to 18º below the horizon (a lot darker). After that it is just "night". I bet you feel better for knowing that!

Tonight promises to be a tame affair. I am trying to keep my cold to myself. If for no other reason than any sign of illness is likely to be interpreted as Covid related and could get me ejected at the next port. I have opted not to take the full board option and be faced with a formal dinner each evening with random strangers I have no wish to know. So I will be Billy N'Mates eating in the bistro on my own. I can see me being tucked up in bed and gently rocked to sleep by the sea very early. Which will be a pity as I will miss the entrance to Tromso which is rather pretty - but its not till about 11.30, so unless the Northern Lights make an appearance I will probably give it a miss. There is just about time to get off the boat going south in Tromso but as it is in the middle of the night I am not sure there is any point. Mind you most of this voyage will feel like it is in the middle of the night.

Finally and apropos of absolutely nothing just a shout out for the general courtesy of Norwegians. Wandering around the town it doesn’t matter where you choose to cross a road, cars will stop for you anyway. Even the stupid places this idiot often chooses because he is not sure where the pavement ends and road begins! And at the moment I am not sure where the sky, the sea and the land begin or end. I can however still see the edges of the boat! Good to know.

A few more pictures to sign off for the day.

Home of my Royal Society

Not a real one obvs!

The Town Hall. It's all about the bears round here.