The Art of Circumnavigation

Books on Voyages around the world

This tempting island far ahead. Lindøy, Stavanger.

I had some dreams, I admit. Already as a teenager I peeped at my brother’s travelling books, reading tales from Polynesia and other distant waters, or stories written by adventurers navigating the globe in tiny vessels. Great storytellers some of them were – like the Norwegian Carl Emil Petersen (No.), writing among others the “Rundø” - Jorden rundt på tomannshånd (1960). Later I came to read Joshua Slocum famous book Sailing Alone Around the World (1899). Not only was he the first man to circumnavigate the globe alone, he also made – like Petersen – literature out of his voyage, writing in a fine-polished but straightforward way, with a mixture of sobriety, nostalgia and humour, thus making his book the ultimate story of circumnavigation.

But all this is long past, as my green dreams are too. Nowadays, circumnavigating the globe is converted into a leisure time activity mostly for well-off men in there forties or fifties, wife and children included (more or less by their own free will, I suppose?). The whole family takes some years off – realising at least 50 years too late this somewhat faded romantic dream, onboard their brand new and comfortable yacht. Friends and family of course follow the voyage in “real time” – so to speak – reading the yacht’s own blog, and during holidays they are shuttled in, airborne, as guest on shorter sailing legs. At Christmas and otherwise from time to time, the “explorers” take the plane home, relaxing a while until boredom is upon them again and the great oceans calls. I admit my writing unveils a taint of envy – but regardless of this; circumnavigating the globe is fare from what it was when a departure meant being away for years and years.

But luckily for every disillusioned sailor, sailing around the globe is not the only and sanctified kind of circumnavigation. As my friend, the sailing junk-rig engineer, puts it –; why not circumnavigate the fjords instead? - That is the open-ended fjords criss-crossing the archipelago where he – like myself – usually knock around instead of sailing the seven seas. One great advantage is this: You don’t have to buy this huge and far to expensive sailing yacht. Actually, during several years, my fascination for sailing around something was satisfied as the proud captain of a wooden, 15 feet long rowing boat – rigged of course by my self – supervised I admit by the sailing engineer. With the boat’s moderate keel, even circumnavigating the nearest island often was a real challenge. Days with steady wind, but still only rippels on the fjord, gave the novice captain-sailor some self-confidence, but of a unsustainable kind in prospects of days to come. In light air or with bigger waves, the boat ran like a dream - when sail large. When sailing upwind on the other hand, every tack would only give an illusion of the boat gaining height. After a while the position still would be familiar. Turning this into an advantage, one might say that this tiny "ship" turned short voyages into long lasting events. For sure, a successful circumnavigation couldn’t be taken for granted.

Later I bought my If-Folkboat Maritornes – and beating towards the wind is now easier and more of an amusement. Thus, the reach of my day sailing trips is extended, but this hasn’t faded away my “sailing-around-the fjord-fascination”. Maybe the explanation is as simple as this: By circumnavigating you may return to your home harbour after both upwind and wind abeam, before (most often on your way home), your run before the wind. You have to cope with it all, and you don’t have to sail to and fro, feeling like an idiot returning from a somewhat purposeless voyage.

Most often the circumnavigation just happens. I sail away, most often I am beating towards the wind to gain some height, but sooner or later I have to mark out a course. Maybe I’ll study the chart or at least wonder where to steer. This is when the thought of circumnavigation breaks the surface. And luckily – as always – my eyes catch a glimpse of some tempting island far ahead. Circumnavigating it I must.

You have to cope with it all, and you don’t have to sail to and fro.