Mysterious Jan Mayen — Destination: Global

The sun is shining in a bright blue sky with a full sundog (ice crystals) creating a halo around it. The wind is a cold and somewhat ferocious 30-50 knots, as we quietly sail passed the 2,300m Beerenberg Volcano on the mysterious Jan Mayen Island in the Arctic. And as I write & review today’s photos, I’m listening to Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto, a little Beethoven and some Mozart. A relaxing afternoon after an early start and busy day of taking photos.

But let me backtrack to 2 days ago when we arrived at Torshavn in the Faroe Islands after an 18 hour sail from Fair Isle. This capital of the Faroe Islands is a very pretty town, with houses painted in bright colours, and older buildings with grass roofs. Virginia and I walked from the reasonably large port into the town and saw a café on the “town square” that we decided we should return to after some shopping.

The cobble-stone main street curved up a hill, with some rather interesting shops. The town square had two tents set up, covered with balloons – clearly there was soon to be some sort of celebration. We eventually found the not-overly-helpful Tourist Centre, retreated from that and soon found a local supermarket – it’s always fascinating to see what unusual (to us) items are sold – fish paste, fish balls & various goods for baking.

As we came out of the supermarket we saw rows & rows of school children being led down the hill, presumably to the town square. More followed, and then more – there were hundreds of them, ranging from those in prams too young to walk, to young teens. Various groups wore different coloured tee-shirts, and we could hear an MC speaking loudly in Danish over the PA system.

Since our intended little café was the other side of the town square, we walked through the crowd of children, who were all very excited about whatever was about to happen, and eventually found someone who could explain this to us. It seems that it was a “Day of Movement,” where all children come out of school to walk or bicycle around the town – perhaps a post-winter thing. Strangely they were led by a rather strange-looking fire-breather who was walking ahead of a DJ on the back of a ute!

After a delicious cuppa, we were back on the Ocean Adventurer and sailing out of the harbour to make our way north to Jan Mayen Island.

Yesterday was a “sea-day” with many interesting lectures, and time to drink lots of tea and chat with others. But in the midst of this, at around 11:00am we crossed the Arctic Circle – and it’s mandatory to toast this event with an early champagne!

This morning we put our clocks forward 1 hour – we’re now on Norway/France/Denmark time. This meant that our wake-up call would essentially be an hour earlier than yesterday. But the prospect of landing on Jan Mayen was more interesting than an hour of sleep.

I was on the Bridge very early, hoping to see Jan Mayen come into view. The weather was reasonably clear at 6am, but by 6:30am, clouds started to gather and descend, reducing visibility, and the winds we’d experienced overnight were not abating.

We dropped the anchor around 7:15am, and soon the island started to reveal itself. It’s a long piece of land shaped a little like a tadpole with the volcano at the broader northern end and surprisingly high mountains and cliffs at the southern. It runs southwest to northeast and attracts clouds like a magnet attracts iron filings. We were on the southern end on the eastern side, off shore from the weather station – about 20 people live and work here.

As the clouds lifted at our end of the island, we could see snow-capped mountains beyond the coast. A rainbow high in the sky looked soft and inviting, but there was something mysterious about the island with its cliffs that went straight into the sea, occasional caves that were black and uninviting, and the continuing blanket of clouds that we assumed were surrounding the volcano. Surf pounded the coastline and the swell was significant.

The crew took two zodiacs out to see if there was a chance of landing near the weather station – the answer was a resounding “no.”

And so to plan B. The anchor came up and off we went to see if we could land on the other side of the island – the side exposed to the north. It was a beautiful sail around the southern-most point, with massive numbers of fulmars flying around the ship. Once around the “bottom” the swell reduced although the wind kept above 30 knots, reaching 80 knots at one point. Getting us in and out of zodiacs is tricky with that amount of wind, so there was no prospect of landing.

But the sun stayed out and the clouds lifted, revealing the Beerenberg Volcano in all its glory, glaciers bisecting the peak and falling to the sea, and strange cone-like structures dotting the snow-covered sides.

After lunch, we continued north, and as I write, we’ve rounded the northern end of the island where we’re now back in the swell – looking out my cabin window I can see choppy, lumpy seas with water splashing up onto my window. The intention is to once again anchor off the weather station, and to stay here overnight. Perhaps tomorrow we’ll be able to walk on Jan Mayen.

28 May 2018: This morning's update

The wake-up call was again at 5am. From my cabin it looked mighty foggy out there, and I could see surf washing up on the beach - I was in two minds as to whether to go out. They started calling groups down to the Zodiac loading area (very conveniently close to my cabin), but then put this on hold. Within about 15 minutes the landing was cancelled, and we are now sailing north to Spitsbergen/Svalbard to find sea ice (the ice charts look promising), polar bears, walrus and other animals!

Back to the mystery of Jan Mayen. Throughout the morning yesterday, the low cloud hung around creating an "other-worldly" look - the dark caves, the rough seas and the coating of clouds over the Volcano added to the sense of mystery. At one point I looked up and saw a rainbow high in the clouds - perhaps there are unicorns in the caves? Imaginations can run wild, and a couple of people I was standing near started a narrative, various stories that we all chimed in on.

As we sailed around to the north side some of the rocky promontories took on animal shapes - one looked like a whale as we came towards it, but as we sailed away from it, it looked like a pterodactyl - shape-shifters? And then late in the day we came across a dead whale (a beaked whale) floating on the sea - we couldn't see any evidence of it being attacked, so perhaps it died of old age.

So what is the mystery of Jan Mayen? We will never know - but we can have fun creating the stories.