Sætre to Engelsviken (Norway), May 6, 2026, ca. 29 nautical miles
It is strange to wake up in a beautiful place in a bad mood. Both Erik and I were impatient and irritated, but we knew why. It had been four days since departure, but we had only sailed about 16 nautical miles. We needed some distance, some more miles and hours at sea so that we would feel that we had actually departed.
We left Sætre around 11, slowly motoring between the islands surrounding Håøya. The spring trees on the islands were like an artwork of all shades of green, from the intensely bright birch threes to the dark green pines. There was next to no wind, and here and there, the fjord was mirroring in the sea. It was so quiet that occasionally one could hear that birds were singing in the forests on land. Idyllic.
As we sailed around the corner and entered the Drøbak strait, I took one last look behind me. How cliché it would be, I thought, if I’d go on to sail around the world and return to find this to be one of the prettiest places I’ve been.
Regardless of the fjords charm, it was a relief to leave Sætre. Even if our strategy had been to sail slowly in the beginning, we still need to actually move.
After sailing through the openings of the submerged stone wall (jetéen) near Drøbak, we passed the place where I grew up. Sailing past my childhood home, I could see my family on the porch, waving with flags and loudly cheering us on. We slowed down our speed as we motored past them, but did not stop. Stopping would only delay the leaving even longer. And despite the somewhat hasty goodbye last night, I knew that both Erik and I, as well as my family on land, would not benefit from yet another round of goodbyes.
We continued motoring out the mirror like fjord. All the while, I was sitting in silence, just as I’d done when we departed from Oslo. However, this time, I was not crying, and my thoughts were less focused on what I was leaving behind and more on what I was heading towards.
