Another eventful day in Suduroy has come to pass. The night was longer than I’d have liked it to be, as I couldn’t escape the cacophony of snores from my crewmates. Livar to the left on his couch, Andy to the right on his mattress, and all the rest of the men in their various sleeping places snored the night away, as the heavy winds creaked around the boathouse. Low sleep or not, it feels good to be on a sailing crew becoming fast friends as we spend more time together, all set on crossing the ocean one or way or other in tribute to Viking culture and shipbuilding tradition.
We spent the morning at the boathouse preparing our gear, numbering the life jackets, setting up our EPIRBs, and putting together the crew list.
Before we went to the Salt Hall for the community event to introduce ourselves, Gudmund came by with a leg of sheep to feed us during our voyage: the sweetest gesture. It smells strong, and I don’t know if I can get used to it in time for the voyage, but if I’m really hungry, then I’ll be eating some pungent, dried sheep meat in the middle of the sea.
The Salt Hall event was a success. Many community members showed up, including the Minister of Culture, and we introduced our expedition to the community. There were familiar faces in the audience too: the sweet men from the boat house and their families. It was also at the Salt Hall that I learned our crew is musical: Andy, Livar, Martin and I all play the piano. We are all very different people with various skill sets, and the more time I spend together with everyone, the more I realize that a crew is best composed of different sorts of people with different abilities. Before accepting my invitation to be on the crew, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be better if there were a crew of six sailors? []. But the truth is that different skills are needed on any crew. On our crew we have an expert sailor, an ocean rower, a photographer, an extreme athlete, a McGyver, and myself. We balance each other nicely and get along well. Our cumulative knowledge and experience is such that we are confidently looking forward to a successful crossing across the sea.
After the event, we went back to the boathouse and did a speed drill to put on our survival drysuits. This has to be done in under 50 seconds, as the conditions under what you would have to put on a survival suit are quite extreme, and you’d be getting ready to abandon the boat and head to the life raft. First you have to take off your tight boots, and take off your life jacket. Then you have to quickly squeeze into the full-body suit, and do up all the zippers and straps, and then put your life jacket back on.
These survival suits are one size fits all, but I was swimming in mine. I said, “This isn’t one size fits all. This is huge!” Livar answered, “It’s because they never saw such a small sailor. HA HA HA!“ And the “real test” to check if the suit works is that Andy throws a cup of water at you. It’s good to see our gear coming together as we prepare for the voyage. [Crew note: We had a survival suit in the right size for all crew members on the boat.]
Georg, the problem solver and fixer of all things, has been teaching me to chop wood into small pieces of tinder, using the Viking axe in the boat house. The axe comes unnervingly close to my fingers, but so far I’ve kept them all intact. Georg chops wood rhythmically and with surgical precision, bringing down the axe millimeters away from his fingers without any hesitation.
We eat meals at the boathouse, cooking together and eating around the wooden table. Livar sits next to me, and not a meal goes by that my stomach doesn’t end up hurting from laughing. At one meal, he said, “Do you know why the Viking Age ended?” I answered that it was the defeat of a Viking king that ended it, but he said, “No! It’s because all the Vikings went sailing and died! ODIN IS WITH US! Plop.” HA HA!” and he punched me on the shoulder as if I were one of the men. It hurt a little, but I couldn’t stop laughing.
The weather has been consistently volatile, and many weather models don’t even agree with each other on their predictions. This is not a good indication. With incoming storms, and low pressure areas, we are biding our time carefully until we find a window of three to four days where the weather looks stable, and we can make the crossing.
Until then, we will enjoy each other’s company, prepare, drill, and test every piece of gear that needs to be tested. I leave you now with more Viking wisdom from the Poetic Edda, a primary source of Viking culture and collection of Old Norse poems: “Then travel safe, and come back in one piece-- stay safe on your journeys, Odin! May your wits serve you well wherever you go, when you exchange words with the giant.”
In this case, the “giant” could be considered to be the destructive forces of nature or chaos. This Viking wisdom is particularly relevant for us as we wait for the right moment to set sail.
Your Loyal Viking Archeologist and Official Stowaway,
Karla
