We had planned to be up at 0530 but we all slept over. Nevertheless our well drilled crew had the anchor up, stripped of weed and stowed by 0600.
We were in sunshine! The first we had seen since Greydvig a week earlier. The pinkish rock of the low hills and headland glowed in the morning sun. We nosed our way back into the channel which, after a mile, turned west. Now with the fresh morning sunshine on our backs we saw the fog rolling to meet us. In the narrows we were beset by fog and the day before we had noticed a charting error or anomaly which meant that our chart plotter could not be relied on. I switched on the radar and was relieved to see that the charts seemed accurate. At least for now.
We groped our way westwards and into the open sea where the fog parted revealing a sparkling morning of sea, sun, ice and mountains. Ahead lay blue skies and a fresh wind from the NNW. We motor sailed to steady the boat and collect a little lift from the sails as we trudged NW into gentle white capped seas.
Pyramids of rock stood out to sea and sometimes their tops peeped out above a patch of fog.
The sails went up and down but, what wind there was, was nearly always on the nose.
And then the sparkling sunshine got cloaked in thick, wet fog. We motored on into the murk straining to see headlands, growlers and even other boats. A fishing post passed within 200m on the AIS but it was invisible. Every now and then a towering icy giant berg would loom out of the mist. Such a surprise resulted in much frantic twiddling of knobs to tune the radar.
As we neared our chosen anchorage the fog thinned sufficiently to reveal the army of ice bergs that stood on guard.
We wove easily past them in mid channel noting the chart and GPS discrepancy in the sound. We passed a tiny hamlet with open boats tied up to an exposed dock. Finally we turned to starboard to find a place to anchor for the night.
The recommended anchorage is in the NE corner but, as we approached it shallowed alarmingly so we settled for a spot close to the NW shore where we found good holding in 10m at the second attempt. Three children from the village strolled along the shore to engage us but we were too tired and had a few jobs to do before a short night's sleep.
Transferring 103 litres of fuel took 6 minutes 19 seconds. Then supper and bed called. Sadly the night was disturbed by an icy visitor. A socking great lump of ice nudged and clung to our stern. The pole came out but it merely pushed Shimshal forward only to fall back on the brooding, frigid mass. In the end we shortened our anchor chain by 5m and we had no further trouble.
