We’re not ones to wish a passage away, but we cannot wait to get into Haugesund. After a rough three day crossing of the North Sea in a stiff north-westerly breeze, dodging a true obstacle course of shipping, oil rigs and wind parks, we’re both tired, wet and cold. The final 20 miles are windless, foggy and difficult: we know there are steep rock faces on either side of the narrow channel, but we can’t see them because of the thick fog. The large cargo ships zipping around the channel are making us nervous. Do they really see us?
“Look there, it seems as if two eddies collide,” I point forward. Wietze peers into the fog and sees the small band of foam, leaves and plastic floating ahead. Just as Anna Caroline reaches it, he takes the engine out of gear and we slide through – you never know what lies beneath. When we are well clear, he engages the engine again. Two seconds later we hear a loud bang under the boat. We’ve picked something up, forward motion is zero, it’s too deep to anchor and we’re still in thick fog five miles from Haugesund. I grab my phone and start making some frantic phone calls. Bjørn Terje and Anita, our Norwegian cruising friends, were already waiting for us at the quay in Haugesund. They spring into action and get the rescue service Redningsselskapet to come out to help us, while Coastal Radio South transmits a warning message to other vessels every five minutes.
Soon after, the big red boat rumbles towards us with a bunch of cheerful Vikings on board. We accept the towline and begin our ‘tow of shame’ to Haugesund where a diver clears our prop of fishing line and floats. We
