Melfjord and Nordfjord, wild coastal Norway
After leaving our tranquil anchorage off of Vaeroy last night, the National Geographic Endeavour traveled eastward across a placid Vestfjorden, once again arriving at the mainland coast of Norway. A maze of verdant and sparsely populated islands and passageways, this is the wild and remote coastal frontier of Norway, seldom seen by few people, let alone most locals. Cruising into Melfjord and then splitting off again, as if through a window, a portal in time, we reach the narrow, pristine and impossibly serene bay of Nordfjord. High granite cliffs, polished smooth by glaciers towered over us as we stepped outside on deck this morning. The air was fresh, pleasant and crisp, a swirling mixture of glacially cooled breezes intertwined with warm moist summer air. Carl Erik Kilander, our resident Norwegian naturalist and my cabin mate told me that this is perhaps his favorite place in all of coastal Norway because of the diversity, scenery, remoteness and beauty. And I agree. We all agreed. The cathedral walls surrounding the end of this fjord complete with hanging glaciers and tumbling waterfalls provided an artist’s backdrop to a living, breathing painting of life.
We took to the hills, the streams, the meadows, the intertidal zone and the forests, some in kayaks and others in Zodiacs spending the better part of the morning engaged in a variety of activities. From the base of the sheer granite slabs we could see tiny specks of people paddling around the opposite side of the fjord, and up in the scree rock fields high in the hills were more specks. Dwarfed by our surroundings, we contemplated the larger questions in life and forgot about our cares and worries. On shore, washed-up jellyfishes reminded us of how quickly we could all vanish in a world much older and wiser than we could possibly comprehend. A harbor seal bopped its head above water momentarily to have a peek, and an entourage of oystercatchers darted too and fro as we plied the coast by foot and fleet.
It was a day of incomprehensible scale, both physically and philosophically and the chatter in the lounge was indicative of our minds racing away to places yet undiscovered or perhaps long forgotten. Norway, and in particular the wild reaches of her intricate fingerlike fjords, remind us of our own passages in time. How small, yet how grand.
After leaving our tranquil anchorage off of Vaeroy last night, the National Geographic Endeavour traveled eastward across a placid Vestfjorden, once again arriving at the mainland coast of Norway. A maze of verdant and sparsely populated islands and passageways, this is the wild and remote coastal frontier of Norway, seldom seen by few people, let alone most locals. Cruising into Melfjord and then splitting off again, as if through a window, a portal in time, we reach the narrow, pristine and impossibly serene bay of Nordfjord. High granite cliffs, polished smooth by glaciers towered over us as we stepped outside on deck this morning. The air was fresh, pleasant and crisp, a swirling mixture of glacially cooled breezes intertwined with warm moist summer air. Carl Erik Kilander, our resident Norwegian naturalist and my cabin mate told me that this is perhaps his favorite place in all of coastal Norway because of the diversity, scenery, remoteness and beauty. And I agree. We all agreed. The cathedral walls surrounding the end of this fjord complete with hanging glaciers and tumbling waterfalls provided an artist’s backdrop to a living, breathing painting of life.
We took to the hills, the streams, the meadows, the intertidal zone and the forests, some in kayaks and others in Zodiacs spending the better part of the morning engaged in a variety of activities. From the base of the sheer granite slabs we could see tiny specks of people paddling around the opposite side of the fjord, and up in the scree rock fields high in the hills were more specks. Dwarfed by our surroundings, we contemplated the larger questions in life and forgot about our cares and worries. On shore, washed-up jellyfishes reminded us of how quickly we could all vanish in a world much older and wiser than we could possibly comprehend. A harbor seal bopped its head above water momentarily to have a peek, and an entourage of oystercatchers darted too and fro as we plied the coast by foot and fleet.
It was a day of incomprehensible scale, both physically and philosophically and the chatter in the lounge was indicative of our minds racing away to places yet undiscovered or perhaps long forgotten. Norway, and in particular the wild reaches of her intricate fingerlike fjords, remind us of our own passages in time. How small, yet how grand.
