Position : Sandvik 64°58 N - 23°22 O
After a week of gray skies and rain, the sun finally appears on this Monday, August 12, revealing the magnificent snowy peak of Beerenberg! The weather is ideal for a hike on Jan Mayen, as fog-free days are rather rare here. After 4 good hours of scrambling, we take a short break at the station to regain our strength before heading back to the beach where the dinghy awaits us. The return to the boat is not easy. Indeed, the wind has strengthened, as has the surf, forcing us to take a quick dip to get the dinghy into the water.
The next day, the swell prevents us from going ashore, so we spend the day reading on board, increasingly rocked by the waves... By late afternoon, the anchorage is so uncomfortable that we feel almost sick, and we decide to move up our departure for Iceland, originally planned for Wednesday morning—if we’re going to be sick, we might as well make progress! A force 6 south wind accompanies us for 24 hours, allowing us to gain miles westward, then comes the calm before the storm. We lower the sails and try to get a few hours of sleep. By Thursday noon, the expected north wind gradually strengthens to reach 35 knots... The waves are impressive, but Libertaire, under triple-reefed mainsail and staysail, handles it very well, reaching speeds of 10 knots! However, twice, it is knocked over more than 90° by the impact of the breaking waves: on board, poorly secured objects fly from starboard to port, the contents of poorly closed food crates spill out, dishwater splashes onto the ceiling of the saloon... But the good mood remains, and we attempt to tidy up a bit to the sound of music, despite our unsteady steps and fragile stomachs!
On Saturday morning, we are only 40 miles from Iceland, crossing one last enormous iceberg before passing under the Arctic Circle and reaching the bay of Latravik in northwest Iceland. After 4 nights and 4 days of a rough crossing, what a joy it is to light the stove and fall asleep in the calm of a protected anchorage!
On August 18, we go ashore, eager to discover a new country! The return to civilization is very gradual, as the magnificent Hornstrandir peninsula is one of the last wilderness areas in Europe.
We take a beautiful 5-hour walk, passing by an old American radar station. This station, inaugurated in 1958 and closed a few years later, was intended to detect any Soviet aircraft heading west. We are surprised to find snow at such a low altitude in August!
The next day, we set off for Breidafjoedur with a wind that seems favorable. However, weather forecasting is not an exact science, and the expected northwest flow does not materialize. After expending considerable effort maneuvering in light winds, we lower the sails, waiting for a southerly flow brought by an approaching depression. Indeed, with concerns about the exchanger and the turbo, it is not reasonable to run the engine for several hours straight.
On Tuesday night into Wednesday, the wind suddenly picks up from the south, and the 20 knots are more than doubled after passing through the mountains of the fjord. Under staysail alone, we attempt to reach the port of Grundarfjoerdur. We are met by a very brutal southerly flow of at least 45 knots with strong gusts. At 1600 rpm, Libertaire is pushed backward, and entering the port is out of the question. We flee under bare poles and quickly reach 5 knots! We reach a small bay 5 miles away, where we anchor in 6 meters of water, exhausted by all these adventures.
In the afternoon, the wind continues to strengthen. Libertaire heels under the gusts, and water flies everywhere around us! Fortunately, the 60-kilogram anchor is well buried in the sand, and for now, everything is fine. A little treat while savoring a chocolate cake!
The wind should gradually ease tonight. A weather window looks favorable for heading to Reykyavik on Friday, but we are starting to distrust Icelandic weather...