Norway #6 And finally the trip arrives. And we depart. This week is spend on an island chasing sheep, and on the boats getting there and back. Much happens, and as usual, I'll start somewhere else and then get to the beginning.
Inar: The boat building teacher. Friggin huge guy. I think he's like six six and 250 or 280 with hands twice the size of mine. He's been building boats for many many years, and it pretty amazing with axes, knives, saws, and other wood working type things. He also is the woodworking teacher.
'2 hours to 2 days'. That's the answer to the question 'how long does it take to get there?'. The island is about 40 or 80 miles (what's 3dB) away and we had to load up 4 sail boats to get the entire class over there. All the boats were the same design of varying sizes, and rightly so I was placed on the biggest one. Den Siste Viking II. The Last Viking 2. I love that name. It's a replica of the last working boat of this type, which lives in a museum now. This sucker is huge, OK.. big. Much bigger then the one we have used up till now. It's like 4000 kilos of wood, with 5000 kilos of iron ballast, about 50 feet or so. Plus us and our stuff. Sure would be bad to be stuck between this boat and a rock. The weather was shitty for sailing, which was great for sitting out on the boat and getting some sun. Winds of a few knots, no waves, no clouds, and the biggest one of all -no rain. Rain sucks like a Hover when you're on a sail boat with no cabin. The trip was very good, and we ended up stopping for the night before we got to the island. The weather was that nice. Karin had taken an oar to the head on her boat was not feeling all that well, so we took out the tent and camped on shore. Good thing we did, the wake from every passing big boat that night rocked our small wooden ships for several minutes. Fun when you're awake, not fun when your trying not to be. Food on these boat trips is pretty typical of the school. Oatmeal for breakfast with lots of additives (apple sauce, raisins, sugar, nuts, etc.), lunch is open face sandwiches with cheese and meats. We do pretty well. Oh! I almost forgot, and would you have been pissed if I had. We climbed the masts! With the light wind and calm seas, we tied up with another boat while sailing and chatted a bit. A few people climbed up the mast ropes and sat on top of the sail. And somebody even climbed the top sail, and on our boat that's quite an achievement. Østain was one of the climbers on our boat, which was fine until his boat untied from us and began to depart. He made the fastest side down the rope I've seen followed by the quickest jump over to the other boat at it pulled away. Quite exciting, really. Right around lunchtime we made it to the island.
We landed, tied up the boats to the shore and set about making camp. And tying up to shore is not as simple as that sentence makes it sound. 2 boats are tied directly to the rock cliff, and 2 more boats are tied onto one of these. So, getting off the outside boat means jumping over 3 boats, jumping off the last boat as it bounces in the water onto the cliff, then climbing up the cliff, sometimes with the aid of a rope sometimes not. Did I mention that my boots didn't stick to this wet rock? Yea, like ice. From the top of the cliff to the water is 50 feet or so, not something nice if you slip. And we did this stuff at night also. A few people slipped, but nobody got hurt. On the island a few tents went up, and work began on getting stuff off the boats.
Sheep Herders. That was our job for most of a day. It's suppose to take a few hours. Either the sheep are smarter this year or the class is dumber, but we took all day. The plan was to set up a fence funnel that led into a cage and chase them into the funnel. Easy. A crack team of Runners set out. A lazy team of Sitters set out. We (the Sitters) lined up on top of hill that would be one of 2 ways the sheep could go, the other being into the funnel. The Runners, true to their name, found the herd and chased them into the general direction of us and the funnel. Our job was to stand up and clap our hands if the sheep looked like they were going to go passed us, thereby scaring them into our funnel. Easy. We sat, and the runners ran for about 30 minutes. First time the Sitters aren't set right, and the sheep run through a hole. We sat again, and the runners ran for about 30 minutes. Second time the sheep outflank us. We sat again, and the runners ran for about 30 minutes. Third time the sheep go /right through/ us. I was there. We had a line of people clapping and trying to look Scary. However, the leader of the sheep was not impressed with our antics and ran between 2 of us. The whole herd squeezed through this 10 food chink, all 50 sheep. Quite a sight. We sat again, and the runners ran for about 30 minutes. This time slower. And it worked. We were much more organized this time, up till the end when 5 sheep broke away from the herd and took off. For about 3 or 4 hours Vegard and a gang chased them on foot, A task for which 'being good at American football is helpful', as Vegard put it. He tackled 2 of them, and carried them back to the pen over his shoulders. We got the other 3 by re-setting up the whole funnel and organizing the whole class again into Sitters and Runners. I sat. And it worked this time. We worked for several hours moving sheep from this pen down to the boat. The usual method was to stick your head under the sheep and lift it up with a pair of feet on your left shoulder, and a pair on your right. Worked pretty well. Vegard's wife was taking stool samples and giving the sheep parasite drugs. I mentioned she was pretty hard core also, and this is no exception. If the sheep didn't offer a sample, she reached in and took some. No flinch. Not something I've seen in San Diego. These sheep were loaded on to a small single-man row boat, and taken over to the big sail boat. Their fate was to be taken back to the school's farm and be slaughtered in the coming week. Imagine a sheep with it's feet tied deciding to escape while it's on the row boat. Some pretty funny stuff, including a few near capsizes.
The next morning we had the usual meating. I mean meeting. One of the Farmering Sudents carried down a sheep in the same fashion as before, so I figured we had missed one. Then I noticed the tarp on the ground, and the firewood in the corner of the clearing, and things began to make sense. That was dinner.
The Farm girl was trying to comfort the sheep who was, understandably, a bit nervous. Vegard changed to English for a few sentences: 'If you want to eat the meat, you have to watch the slaughtering'. At which point the vegetarians began walking to the tents, and the bucket, ax, and tarp were moved into position. Yea, that surprised me to. Ax. Vegard sat on the sheep and held it on the ground by the horns while leaning on it to keep it still. Inar the Giant stepped up with the ax and started the swing, on the way down the sheep squirmed, and the Ax missed it's mark. The back side of the ax hit it in the head and the sheep began to squirm much more earnestly. Inar hit it again, and it's kept moving, the third hit delivered a trickle of blood from it's nose but it was the fourth hit that finally stilled the animal. Within a few seconds, Inar had hoisted the sheep by the back feet and was holding it up and over a bucket. Vegard made a few quick moves and the blood ran out while Vegard's Wife quickly stirred the bucket to prevent clotting. That was it. The body was moved over the the tarps, and Inar and Vegard began cutting the skin. They slit open the legs, and pulled the skin off. The body cavity was slit and the intestines, heart, liver, and other bits were pulled out and tossed into a waiting bucket, still steaming. The process took a matter of minutes.
The animal was skewered onto a large stake, seasoned, and put near the fire, and cooked for 5 hours. And that was the best tasting lamb I have ever had. Kind of odd to remember when your dinner was alive, though. The captain of the Viking was soon to have some trouble. The waves were tossing the boat against the shore and the devices to prevent damage were not doing their job. Bent (that's his name) was leaning over the side adjusting ropes and pads and trying to time things right so he would lean down as the boat came away from the shore, and stand up before the boat was tossed into the rocks on the next wave. He missed. The next wave came a bit faster then he thought and the boat lurched into the rocks while he was between the two. Remember 12000 kilos? Yea, it wasn't good, I think everybody was happy to hear he only broke a rib. And the other injury! Østain fell off a cliff and landed on a sharp rock. The hole wasn't all that large, but several inches deep. Yea, inches. They took him to the nearest hospital and got sewn up. Scary thing is when he went to the doctors in his home town, they undid the stitches and filled the hole with cotton so the wound would close from the bottom. Sounds like the first doctors didn't do it right. Not encouraging.
The trip back was fairly uneventful. Oh! Northern Lights! Yes, a few night of clear sky on the island resulted in some of the most beautiful light shows I've yet seen. They move! I didn't know that. So, the trip back was fairly uneventful. We got back, unloaded the boat and headed back to the school. One of the pots I was carrying from the boat had the top blown off by the tremendous wind. Which was not so bad, but the missing top reveled sheep testicles bobbing in a gallon of blood. Not something I've done in San Diego.
That, finally is it. Hope it was worth the wait, and until next time, I hope all is well in your neck of the woods.
-Byron Posted by byron at October 27, 2002 11:47 AM