TROMSØ 69°N - STAMSUND 68°N TROLLFJORDEN Mythical and historic, this ford has an ambiance all its own
How is a memory created? Why do we rememb- er one particular moment for our entire lives, but not what happened immediately after- wards or before? It is nearly midnight. The landscape outside has lost its contours, and the mountains and islands of Lofoten have been swallowed up by the polar night. We are on our way through Raftsundet towards Trollford, a narrow and mythical ford that has been carved out over millions of years by forces of nature in such a dra- matic and bold way that even the locals here in the north feel a sense of awe whenever they enter it. We flock out onto the deck. Wrapped up in our warm clothing we stand there, star- ing into the narrow, dark gap ahead. Only muffled voices are
heard, barely more than whispers. Can a ship of this size really go in there? Is that physically possible? Can the captain actually see anything? At that very moment the ship’s floodlights are turned on and Trollford reveals itself – nar- row, majestic and alluring, as if we have had a glimpse of a prehistoric time. Slowly we sail in.
Our captains are so familiar with the waters along the coast
that they support the Norwegian Mapping Authorities.
We are so close to the cliff sides it feels like we can literally reach out and touch them. We lean our heads all the way back. The mountain on our right side rises two hundred metres straight up, and it seems as if we are sailing into a tunnel. Then we are in the innermost area of the ford. There is no way forward, seemingly no way out. The engines are turned off, the voices subside and all that can be heard is a deafening silence. We stand there together, friends and strangers, united in darkness and nature while the minutes tick slowly by. Then all of a sudden, we hear a beautiful voice com- ing from a hooded man among us. With a proud stance, he sings while looking out into the night. All turn around, and we hear the words reverberate: “Who can sail
without wind, who can row without oars.”
When the song fades out, he disappears into the night, not even the crew knew who he was. Soon afterwards the engines start up, the ship rotates and we continue our journey north enriched with a memory that will last a lifetime.
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© Backpack Foto Soltun FHS © Backpack Foto
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