Views and Visions from the Wild (introduction)

Views and Visions from the Wild

Views

Visions from the Wild

Texts/pictures/sketches/projects/ideas/layout: Simon Gripenberg 2020

The trip and the publication was realized with support from Svensk-Österbottniska Samfundet

ISBN 978-952-94-4321-5

In the autumn of 2018 I spent a month at Mustarinda AiR in the Kainuu region of Finland (www.mustarinda. ). Mustarinda is located in a remote abandoned school building next to the Paljakka Strict Nature Reserve and the residency promotes and encourages a transition towards a post-fossil society. Since I believe in the concept of biomimicry, I looked for inspiration in the surrounding old growth forests and made di erent low-tech wind turbine projects on an experimental basis (see issuu.com/simonshares and youtube.com/simonshares). I picked up a yer about Røst AiR in Norway and during the month I also shortly met Elin Már Øyen Vister, who is running the residency. She was spending some days at Mustarinda at the time, participating in a group project. After the residency, which a ected me in many ways, I continued making projects on the theme of (s)low-tech, e.g. a wind sculpture for e Museum of Technology in Helsinki (see pages 9–10).

as tIme passed by, I once again started to fantasize about another residency month somewhere and Røst AiR sprung back into my mind. I applied for a residency for summer or autumn 2020. After some discussions we agreed that July-August would be ideal. en came the worldwide COVID-19 pandemic outbreak. I thought that I would have to cancel or postpone the residency, but the situation in Finland and Norway calmed down just in time, the borders were opened and travel was again allowed between the two countries.

however, I was thInkIng back and forth many times before I made the nal decision to go. Was the Corona situation stable enough? e last thing I wanted was to be the foreigner who brings the corona virus to the small island society of Røst. We agreed that the trip should be safe. Elin also consulted the local healthcare service on Røst. As I stopped ying several years ago for climate reasons and Røst AiR supports green&slow travel, I had to gure out a new route. My original plan was to take the ferry from Vaasa to Umeå and then continue with train to Áhkanjárga (Narvik). However, the corona spread in Sweden was uncontrolled at the time, which meant that I was not allowed to travel through the country. e next best option was to go north through Sápmi. e distance is longer but I was excited

to experience these places that were unknown to me. As we had never been on a family vacation to Norway, we decided to combine transportation with pleasure and thus made a trip together with car to Lofuohtta (Lofoten). I then continued to Røst as the rest of the family headed back home. is felt like a good alternative. I would have preferred bus and train for environmental reasons, but due to the COVID-19 pandemic it felt safer to travel with own car at that very moment. At least, I had converted our old Saab 9-3 to run on ethanol (www.e exfuel. ), which is said to reduce CO2-emissions with about 80% compared to ordinary gasoline, as the E85 and RE85 fuels in Finland are made from waste material from the forest industry. After my stay at Røst AiR I used public transportation to get back home. is felt safe, since I spent several weeks on the remote island of Skomvær, voluntarily being in quarantine. e COVID-19 situation was still quite under control and I additionally avoided to travel during the weekend, when it would have been more crowded.

the resIdenCy was very inspiring for me. Being grateful for the opportunity and wanting to share my experiences in some way, I made this publication. Since I want to tell a personal story, I decided to transcript my handwritten diary into English and then combine it with pictures,

sketches and other graphics. I made some minor additions to the original diary text and I also checked some facts to get the details right. My mother language is Swedish and I didn’t have the resources to order a professional language review, so I apology for any language inaccuracies.

at fIrst, I thought about titles like ”A Topographic Trip” or ”A Trip in Topography”, since there is a huge di erence in topography between at Ostrobothnia and mountainous Lofuohtta. e word ”topography” can also describe the way the story in this publication is written. e text combines a simple at diary format – including self-evident conclusions like ”the ice cream tastes good” and ”the weather is lovely” – with re ections and statements about e.g. climate change, environmental issues, sustainability and Sámi culture. Hopefully this dualistic approach appeals to a broader range of readers. I also hope that people that have never applied for nor experienced a residency in the periphery can get some insights and inspiration from this publication.

Enough of explaining, lets hit the road!

Welcome to Lofuotta, Røst and Skomvær!

Simon Gripenberg

I have just packed my stuff together after a tent night in Moskenes and head for the bus through Lofouhtta towards Ráhkka.

“The Wind Obelisk”, an off the grid light sculpture that stands in front of The Museum of Technology in Helsinki. It promotes low tech solutions and raises questions about peak oil, climate change and the urge of a transition towards renwable energy (2019).

“Perca navicula” was made for the municipality of Larsmo. The Fish´n´boat sculpture is made of stainless and cor-ten steel. It symbolizes the dependece and the ever ongoing interaction between nature and culture (2020).

Early evening by lake Kesänkijärvi in Äkäslompolo

Getting there –Traveling green and corona clean

ravin. To our surprise, there are not that many mosquitos. We pass by an old shing hut and fantasize that it once belonged to president Urho Kekkonen, but we are not completely sure about that. Kekkonen was an eager sherman and there is a National Park by the eastern border named after him. It is one of the largest protected areas in Finland. On our way back we meet some people riding fatbikes. Our daughters are fascinated by how di erent the landscape appears now in summer, compared to when we were here last winter, skiing cross country.

ing about Sápmi gives you a healthy reminder of our awkward colonialism when it comes to indigenous people.

frIday 10 July Jakobstad–ÄkÄslompolo

we leave from Jakobstad on the west coast of Finland early in the morning (see maps on pages 165–169). e spirit is high and the car is fully packed. We brought e.g. tents, a mobile cooking system and own food with us to have the possibility to avoid hotels and restaurants, depending on the COVID-19 situation. After eating lunch by the sea in Ii, refueling the car in Duortnus (Tornio) and stretching our legs in Pello we reach Äkäslompolo in the early evening.

We have booked an apartment that´s owned and rented by an association from Jakobstad. After sitting a whole day in the car it is nice to take a walk along the north side of lake Kesänkijärvi towards the base of Pirunkuru, a steep and rocky

saturday 11 July ÄkÄslompolo–gIlbbesJávrI

after a good nIght’s sleep and a slow breakfast we experience some more of Äkäslompolo and refuel the car. No Eko E85 can be found here, so I have to use ordinary 95E10. I should have brought some canisters. We drive towards Muoná (Muonio) along smaller, beautiful roads.

is is a day of slow traveling. e distance from Äkäslompolo to Gilbbesjávri (Kilpisjärvi) is only about 250 kilometers, but we stop several times just to enjoy the landscape and to make lunch on the outdoor stove. e weather is lovely. As the names on the road signs no appear in both Sámi and Finnish, I start thinking about di erent cultures and the perspective of time. Re ect-

In gIlbbesJávrI we take a slow walk from the Kilpisjärvi Visitor Center up to lake Čáhkáljávri that lies beneath Sána, which is a holy mountain for Sámi people. e landscape is beautiful. It is raining lightly and my left thigh is quite sore. I had a leg injury some weeks ago when I was out orienteering, it is probably a minor muscle rupture. e leg is getting better but I feel that when bended, it still cant’t support all of my weight. I have to walk carefully, because the trail is quite steep at some points. I am actually a bit worried about the topography of Lofuohtta, but as long as I will take it slow and keep to the valleys it should be ok.

we thInk about ordering take-away food from a restaurant in Gilbbesjávri, but it is very crowded and there is a long queue. Instead, we buy some sh soup and bread from the local store and drive up to a parking lot by Muotkatakka, which is the highest road point in Finland (at an elevation of 565 meters), and heat the soup on the outdoor stove. is is a bit challenging because of the heavy rain and the enormous amount of mosquitos that drown in the soup before we get back into the car to eat – but

hey, they say insects are a good source of protein. e soup is however yummy. Since we brought tents with us, we think that as a contrast to this budjet alternative we can a ord ourselves a more luxurious overnight stay. My partner is eager to experience a night in a glass igloo so she booked one for us, close to Gilbbesjávri. e daughters are also excited, because apparently a well-known Finnish pop-star slept in the igloo the previous night. I have to admit it is a special experience. You get the comfort of a hotel room and total calmness, surrounded by a reindeer farm, a lake and mountains. It is a nice experience, but I prefer the tent myself. In a glass igloo you are visually connected with the landscape through the windows, but since the construction is well insulated you can’t hear and sense the wind nor the fragrances of nature. e concept with the glass igloos and the reindeer farm once again reminds me that I really should learn more about the Sámi history and culture. As a coincidence, I happen to nd an interesting interview with Sámi activist Jenni Laiti, as I lay down and read the news. Jenni says that she often feels like being a Sámi dictionary, having to explain the same old facts over and over again. e knowledge about Sápmi has been out there for a long time, it is now about time for us in the majority to show some interest and respect.

sunday 12 July gIlbbesJávrI-gávvalváhkI

our plan for today is to leave from Gilbbesjávri early in the morning, see a bit of Finnmárku and then spend the next night somewhere in Lofuohtta. After fueling the car (no Eko E85 here neither) we pass by a crashed car in the trench, which give me a reminder about driving extra carefully. We cross an open border. No one stops us at the control station, but some kilometers into Norway a police car is parked next to the road. A kind police o cer checks our ID´s and we promise her that we will remember to bring our children back to Finland.

It Is strange when it comes to borders, topography and the distribution of mountains. All the Finnish mountains are relatively at whereas both the Swedish and the Norwegian landscape is more alpine. e scenery changes dramatically already when we drive down towards Ivgobahta (Skibotn). Still thinking about borders, I recall a special concert that I enjoyed in my youth. e artist on stage was omas Di Leva, who also describes himself as ” e warrior of love”. As symbols of love and care, he threw oranges to the audience while drinking water from a colorful water can. Between some songs he questioned the whole idea with drawing borders between

people: ” e borders on the maps don’t really exist, they are just a result of our imagination” –what a simple truth.

as I am behind the steering wheel, I can’t take in the whole scenery between Gilbbesjávri and Ivgobahta. On the rst stretch of our trip on the Norwegian side I have to stay totally focused on the road and the tra c, because the route is completely unfamiliar to me. After a while we enter the municipality of Bals ord and make a stop at a gas station in Gárgán (Nordkjosbotn), a small village that lies in the end of a misty ord. It starts raining and after some more driving we stop at a parking lot in the middle of nowhere to eat some sandwiches and yogurt.

we pass through Beardogorži (Bardufoss) and then make a quick stop in Setermoen to withdraw some cash. As it is Sunday this is the one and only open cash machine along our route – according to Google. I posses a credit card that I never use, except from occasionally ordering something on internet. I have a principle of living as debt free as possible, since I don’t want to be a slave of the economic system. In these times of climate change and biodiversity loss I think that we should really question the naive illusion of in nite economic growth, instead of desperately spinning the wheel of consumption even

Short break near Muoná.

At the highest road point in Finland. E85 :)

Toilet break just before Ivgobahta .

Rainy evening by lake Peerajärvi. Preparing lunch on the outdoor stove.

Walking down the trail from Čáhkáljávri.

faster. However, the reason we stop in Setermoen is that I always want to carry some cash with me when traveling abroad, just in case. It is better to be safe than sorry. Due to digitalization and greed, the Finnish banks hardly provide any local customer service anymore. I would have had to order Norwegian crowns by post and doubt that I would have gotten the money before our departure.

as we ClImb up to higher altitudes on Fossbakken the landscape is getting more dramatical, the feeling is accentuated by the rainy weather. We stretch our legs by Lapphaugvatnet (which doesn´t sound like a respectful name from a Sámi point of view) and enjoy the view from a war memorial site in Rivtták (Gratangen municipality) before we accelerate down the steep road towards Ráhkka (Bjerkvik). I am glad that we decided to install new brake discs and pads on the car earlier in the summer. We’re getting hungry and decide to stop at a small parking lot in Dielddanuorri (Tjeldsund). It’s only a couple of meters down to a rocky beach. O cially, we’re not yet in Lofuohtta but the view over the ord and the surrounding mountains is already spectacular – we are getting a taste of what´s to come. We nibble on carrots while boiling potatoes and frying meatballs. It seems like the tide is getting higher.

You have to be careful as the di erence between low and high tide can be about 2–3 meters – but we get to eat, rest and enjoy the landscape before getting of the beach and continuing. whereas the topography of at Ostrobothnia I almost linear, Norway is the total opposite. e driving is thus a bit exciting. Sometimes, when I slow down a bit at a steep curve or at a steep brow of a hill, I sense a stressed local resident on my back. Maybe it is someone who has to catch a ferry and is too optimistic about the timetable. Although the distances are not that long measured in kilometers, my advice is to reserve su cient time for the driving. Personally, I think the whole idea with experiencing Lofuohtta is to do it in a slow manner. What’s the point of stressing through this beautiful scenery?

I would have liked to spend some nights in tent, but the weather seems a bit unstable so we make a family decision, and book a small cabin by a camping site in Gávvalváhki (Kabelvåg). e pictures on the booking site looked far better than reality. It’s even hard to believe that it’s the same place. Somebody has somehow managed to nd a good photo angle that hides the aws. Although the cabin is shabby we sleep perfectly well, and the surroundings are at least magnicent.

In the early mornIng, I follow my daughter to the common toilets. Nobody else is yet awake as the sun just rises over the mountains and blinds us. A Tesla car on charge shimmers as it is hit by the magical morning light. Is this a concrete sign for an on-going car revolution? I am myself both optimistic and sceptic about the potential of electrical cars. Of course, we need to phase out fossil fuels. But producing lots of new cars requires a huge amounts of energy and virgin materials, not to forget the social conditions for the people, sometimes children, mining rare earth metals needed for the batteries. How much can this production be scaled up before we cause new environmental and social issues? Primarily, I think we should focus on driving less, favoring public transportation and reusing old cars in clever ways. Converting your motor to run on biogas or bioethanol is probably one of the more cost-e ective solutions. Furthermore, a lot of people can’t a ord an electric car and many young people don’t even want to own a car, but rather rely on a sharing economy. I sense a Norwegian double morality as the country is drilling for oil with one hand and supporting Teslas with the other. Without the oil economy you wouldn’t see this many Teslas. It is a kind of paradox that the oil economy is essential for a ording the electric car pool and infrastructure with chargers.

Boiling potatoes in Dielddanuorri.

when It Comes to double morality, I have to admit that Finland isn’t much better. Instead of oil we have huge forests and the holy forest industry claiming that Finland is super green. However, there are almost no old growth forests left, but mostly monocultural tree plantations. Sweden on the other hand – the country who wants to be seen as a forerunner when it comes to e.g. democracy and humanism – has its awkward weapon industry. e activist in me thinks, why don’t make a fancy ”Nordic Double Morality” myth-debunking campaign instead of all these colorful ”Visit Norway”, ”Visit Finland” and ”Visit Sweden” posters? (see pages 155–156). On the other hand, I have promised myself not to turn cynical. It feels better to focus on the good alternatives instead of ghting against a crackling system that anyway soon belongs to the past.

monday 13 July

gávvalváhkI–bøstad

before headIng further west we need to fuel the car. Sadly, I don’t nd any bioethanol here neither, so I once again have to rely on ordinary E95. It’s, however, understandable that in the land of fossil oil (and less forests) ordinary gasoline is still prioritized before bioethanol.

It Is a lazy monday morning as we stop by the cozy city center of Gávvalváhki. e sun is shining and to our joy we happen to nd an ice cream kiosk that is already open. What’s a better way to start the day than with ”Kremen av Iskremen”? Right beside the kiosk I notice posters for the ”Leve havet!” campaign that strives for a fossil free Lofuohtta, Viestterálas (Vesterålen) and Sážža (Senja). It gives me comfort to see that there are people here ghting for these good purposes. our plan for the day is to drive only short distances and experience as much as possible of Austvågøya, Gimsøya and Vestvågøy. After previous days of driving we are looking forward to a slow tourist day. Since it is Monday there is not much tra c. One of my friends, who visited Lofuohtta some years ago with his family, lended me a guidebook. is is handy as we easily can nd some favorite spots. I am not eager to climb any higher mountains with my sore leg so rst we go to Hoven, which is a stand-alone mountain on Gimsøya. I suddenly get excited, as we drive west around Hoven and pass by an abandoned house with a large mural gra ti painting by the Norwegian artist Pøbel (www.pobel.no).

It seems like this Banksy-like artist has many interesting projects going on. To get on the hiking trail to Hoven (368 m.a.s.l.), which is one of the lower mountains in Lofuohtta, we have

to use the parking lot of a golf club. I walk to the club house and pay a fee to get access to the parking lot. e trail up to the top is claimed to be easy and family friendly, but because of my leg we don’t make it to the top. Instead, we have an outdoor lunch halfway up the mountain, which already gives us a spectacular view towards Austvågøya, Vestvågøya and the Norwegian Sea, which is part of the North Atlantic Ocean. After climbing down we enter the car and head for Vestvågøya. We pass by the Lofotr Viking museum in Bøstad, that seems to be crowded. Because of the possible COVID-19 risks we continue along Vikingveien to Vikbukta and Vik beach instead. is is a good decision since the weather is perfect: an open horizon, white sand and turquoise colored water – all surrounded by beautiful snow-covered mountains. e sea water is a bit chilly though (about 12 degrees celsius), but you can´t get everything at once. We have co ee and snacks at the beach before driving back to the Furu Hostel&Café in Bøstad. Since my partners last name is Furu she felt that she just had to book a night for us here. A young surfer couple have turned this abandoned elderly home into a super cozy and a ordable hostel in ingenious ways, for example by consistently using plywood and recycled materials. e service, the atmosphere and the food is really good. I strongly recommend this place.

I wake up early after a sleeping really deeply. As I feel energized, I carefully close the fabric curtain in front of my bed, not to wake the others up, switch the light on and grab my sketchbook. Many di erent ideas about possible residency projects have already crossed my mind. As the rest of the family wakes up, we do our morning routines, pack our stu together and go down to the dining room to start the day of with some yummy and healthy smoothie-bowls.

after a short mornIng stroll to ” e Beach” we head southwest towards and through Liehkke (Leknes). A sharp turn right then keeps us on the E10 road which will eventually lead us to Å, the outermost village of Lofuohtta. After some kilometers e Nappstraum tunnel takes us from Vestvågøya to Flakstadøya. Since the roads get narrower and there are more tourists, cyclists, caravans and motorhomes around the driving is slow – which suites us perfectly. We make several extra stops on Flakstadsøya and Moskenesøya just to enjoy the amazing landscapes. It is fascinating to see how the infrastructure is adapted to the landscape. We pass some narrow bridges that have tra c lights since there is only space to drive in one direction at a time. It is healthy for

us to experience this. In Ostrobothnia you don’t have to worry about optimizing the usage of horizontal surfaces, because there is a lot of available space due to the atness of the landscape. Here in outer Lofuohtta every square meter is important and the expression ”shared space” gets concrete. People here seem to co-exist in a smoother way, as we noticed at the camping site in Gávvalváhki.

we CheCk out a camping site that is just a stone’s throw away from the harbor in Moskenes, where I will board the ferry tomorrow. e camping is fully booked except for a couple of tent places. If I had been alone I would have raised the tent anywhere, but with the family around we agree to search for a more comfortable solution. It is also because of COVID-19 that we decide to look for a place that isn’t that crowded. According to booking sites everything nearby is fully booked. It seems like a lot of Norwegians as well as quite many Finns and Germans are thinking the same way as we do: that Lofuohtta is a great place for a vacation abroad, since other countries aren’t an alternative because of the corona pandemic. Once in Lofuohtta we get the idea to experience sleeping in an idyllic Rorbuer, a traditional Norwegian shing hut. To our amusement we happen to bump into a Rorbuer in Sørvågen that is named Klingenberg – which is also the surname of our best friends back home

in Finland. By the way, here is also a Simon Hostel, named after me. However, nobody answers at the Klingenberg Rorbuer when I call the number written by the door, so we continue a couple of kilometers to Å where we nd a vacant shing hut by the pier, literally at the end of the road –what a relief. at thIs stage the mood is low as everybody is starving. We quickly drive back the short distance to Reine, because we are told that there are more restaurants. It takes us a while to nd a vacant parking space. e sun is gazing and people say this is unusually warm for Lofuohtta. Sadly, climate change happens faster up in the north. We spot an empty table on a terrace in front of a restaurant that actually serves ordinary food. is is perfect, since we are all tired of tourist menus with pizzas, hamburgers and fries. e mood returns with the food. We get fascinated by tiny human silhouettes on top of the steep peak of Reinebringen and an open lorry that passes by the harbor with an enormous amount of traditional Tørr sk. e conditions here are optimal for drying cod outside in the sun and the wind. On our way through Lofuohtta we saw lots of wooden racks for drying the sh. e racks are really aesthetic and graphical – a minimalistic design that serves its purpose.

Blinded by the morning light. Tesla on charge in Gávvalváhki.

Somewhere on the middle of Flakstadøya.

Graffti work of Pøbel on Gimsøya.

Approaching Hoven.

View from Hoven towards Austvågøya.

Family selfe.

Waking up in Gávvalváhki.

A view towards Festvågtind.

Approaching yet another bridge.

we agree on completing the day with ice cream. Since Reine feels quite touristic we head back towards Å. On a distance it looks like there has been a accident or a giant tra c jam at the crossings from the harbor back onto E10. After a while I notice that it is only a tourist bus that has parked in the middle of the crossings. e egoistic bus driver apparently thinks that it is a good idea to let all passengers out in the middle of the road to get a good photo angle of Reine. What looked like a tra c jam was only a long row of cars parked along the main E10 road, since there is a lack of parking space for all the hikers. However, we get safely back to Å and get the much appreciated ice cream. We take a short evening walk along to outermost pier of Lofuohtta, that happens to be just besides of the shing hut that we rent. e sky is clear so we are able to spot both Mosken and Værøy, and I can point out to my daughters in which direction I am going tomorrow.

distance to the harbor in Moskenes. We have plenty of time for eating breakfast and tidying up the rooms. It has been some joyful days together with the family. I am sure that it will be nice for us to recall this trip later in the cold mid-winter when we are living our everyday life. We arrive at the harbor well in advance and the family joins me as I walk down to the gate for pedestrians and cyclists. Since I don’t travel with car, I don’t even have to buy a ticket. A guy from the ferry company just asks me to write down my name on the passenger list.

wednesday 15 July

moskenes–røst

some sea gulls are trying to rip a trash bag apart outside the hut as we wake up from a good night’s sleep. ere is no hurry since the ferry MF Værøy leaves at 9:45 am and it’s only a short

It feels sad to split up here and everybody has tears in their eyes. We give each other some warm hugs and I am on my way. My leg is still quite sore and I somehow feel stupid walking aboard MF Værøy with my giant and heavy backpack, heading for a remote island – hopefully it will be alright. On the contrary, it would feel weird to change my mind about the trip at this late stage. At least there is a doctor on Røst, in case the leg would get worse. I think about the rest of the family and their trip back home. My partner has some days of tough driving ahead of her now that she is alone with the kids. I reminded her of splitting the trip into short enough distances, since there is no hurry. It makes no di erence if they return back home a couple of days later than planned, as long as the journey is safe.

mf værøy is a modern ship that looks extra safe and stable. I imagine that’s needed here when the sea gets rough. To my relief there are not that many passengers so it’s easy to keep a social distance – once again thinking about COVID-19. My plan is to avoid public transportation during the weekends when it can get crowded. I hear some other Finnish passengers but it mostly seems to be local people going back to Værøy and Røst, and not that many tourists. After a short while we pass by Moskenstraumen, one of the most powerful tidal currents in the world, famous already a long time ago. For example, Jules Verne and Edgar Allan Poe mention it in ”Twenty ousand Leagues Under the Sea” and “A Descent into the Maelström”, although they both exaggerated and falsely described it as a single gigantic whirlpool. After some googling I nd an interesting document about a theory from the 16th century that claimed that there is an underwater tunnel from Moskenstraumen back to Mearrabađaluokta (Gulf of Bothnia) outside Ostrobothnia. is would give me the possibility to return home with submarine, I must though admit I am somehow sceptic about this old theory.

the name of the rst island after Lofuohtta is Mosken, and after one and a half hour we enter the harbor in Sørland on Værøy. e anchored

A painted Owl.

Retro details at FURU Hostel&Café.

Following a marked trail.

Yet another Kodak moment. Vik Beach.

No RE85, so I have to use Bensin 95 :(

Enjoying world’s northernmost beer.

Chilling out in Bøstad. Refueling the car in Gávvalváhki.

Plywood details at FURU Hostel&Café.

Change of drivers.

Waking up in Bøstad.

Tired and hungry.

Hostel sign made of an old surfboard.

Reaching Å, the outermost village.

Stretching our legs on Flakstadøya.

A view in the direction of Bodø.

A short stop in Værøy. Behind the wave breaker in Værøy.

Leaving Lofuohtta behind us. Mosken.

Å.

At the pier in Å. Værøy on the horizon. Walking towards the Moskenes Church

A traditional fshing village.

Heading for Værøy. The outermost part of Lofuohtta.

Awaiting MF Værøy.

Just saw some Orcas.

Approaching Værøy.

Leaving Værøy and heading for Røst. Racks for drying fsh.

shing vessels and the industry buildings tells me that the main source of outcome is shing. What rst looks like a weather station on top of one of the mountains is actually a NATO radar station. I am sure that this is a great spot from where to monitor the North Atlantic and the Arctic Ocean. Personally, I think that weather is far more important and should be more prioritized then warfare, especially in times of climate change. When it comes to weather, Værøy as well as Røst are islands that fascinate meteorologists. is is the most northern location in the world where there is no meteorological winter. is means that the monthly mean temperature generally stays above zero all of the year, due to the Gulf Stream. In Norland, on the north side of the island, there is an airport that was closed for regular tra c because of an accident in 1990. It’s said that the turbulence can be really bad along the mountain side because of the topography. On Værøy, which currently has about 800 inhabitants, you can also nd an abandoned shers village because of modernization. e nature is beautiful and the guide book tells me the island is a paradise for bicyclists. Værøy is also famous for the Norwegian Lundehund, a dog that has six toes per foot and can bend its head backwards along its own spine. is dog was used back in the days to hunt pu ns.

after a short whIle new passengers and vehicles are onboard the ferry and we can continue our journey towards Røst, which is yet another 1.5 hours trip away. e sea is calm at the moment and I enjoy a part of the trip from the upper outdoor deck. e distance across Røsthavet seems longer than it actually is, since Røst consists of an archipelago with many small and at islands, not visible at a distance. Suddenly everybody runs to the port side of the ship. I spot a group of Killer whales that go in opposite direction, towards Lofuohtta. Since they are swimming quite far away from the ferry and I don’t have a proper tele objective, the ns only look like black dots on the pictures taken with my mobile phone. As we approach Røst, I can spot the higher mountains: Stor ellet, Vedøya and Stavøya. Stavøya, which is closest to Værøy, reminds of a witch hat seen in direction west-east and an old mans hat seen in direction north-south. As we turn starboard towards the harbor I can even spot the lighthouse of Skomvær in the horizon on the outer side of the Nykan Nature Reserve. I am so excited to nally arrive, furthermore without any delays on the date that we originally planned. Satellite maps tell you something but the actual reality is always more exciting and di erent from what you expect.

It is a bit chilly outside on the ferry deck of MF Værøy, but the scenery is magnifcent. On the horizon you can see (from left to right): Stavøya, Lofoten, Mosken and Værøy.

The Nykan Nature Reserve and Stavøya appear on the horizon. We are still far away, so it is hard to see any details of Røstlandet, because the island is really fat and partly hidden behind Stavøya.

Spending some days at Røstlandet

wednesday 15 July

elIn, who runs the resIdenCy and will meet me up, is a bit late. I sit down on a wooden bench by the pier and watch as people board the ferry. It reminds me of a giant whale as it swallows all the vehicles and passengers. MF Værøy puts its engines in reverse, makes a turn and continues towards Bådåddjo (Bodø). I am now completely alone at the pier, the only sound I can hear comes from screaming kittiwakes. Vedøya and Stor ellet appear in southwest and I get a sense of the rest of the Nykan Nature Reserve. It is so peaceful! Isn’t it strange that Røstlandet is this at when the rest of Lofuohtta is really rocky? Two men that I noticed on the ferry earlier come walking back to the harbor. It seems as if they are carrying hand tools from the harbor to a nearby hotel. I take a short stroll towards the

hotel and get fascinated by the municipal arms of Røst. It pictures three proud Great cormorants. In Ostrobothnia this bird is hated among shermen. ey see it as a rival as it is claimed to catch a lot of European Perch. I imagine that at Røst the Great cormorant isn’t a competitor at all for the shermen – instead of being hated it might even be admired for its superb shing skills? Talking about municipal arms, I remind myself of the municipal arms of Værøy and Moskenes, which suitably picture a pu n and a whirlpool. I get a message from Elin that she is soon on her way, so I walk the short distance back to the harbor.

the sIlenCe Is suddenly broken by a seaplane that lands on a narrow gap of water in front of the Bryggehotell. At rst sight the pilot seems to be mad, but the landing is successful. e plane makes a u-turn in the harbor and anchors in front of the hotel. A large black-legged kittiwake colony has totally occupied an old Rorbuer building near the hotel. It is strange that they didn’t seem to get disturbed by the loud noise from the seaplane. On the other hand, it is interesting to witness how humans and animals sometimes coexist in strange ways. It might be safer for the birds to nest nearby us in order to avoid predators like eagles, and the shing industry at Røst provides the opportunity to get some sh remains. e sound of the Kittiwakes is rest-

ful, but simultaneously it is yet another alarm about climate change. In a quite recent article, published 2018 in Nature, a group of researchers followed up the diet of Black-legged kittiwakes on Svalbard and came to the conclusion that the change in diet is yet another indicator of climate change. e birds have shifted their diet from arctic prey towards eating more Atlantic sh.

I fantasIze about Skomvær, that’s now hidden by the sunny silhouettes of Vedøya and Stor ellet, as a white electric van parks in front of me. Elin jumps out with a smile on her face: Welcome to Røst! We had a WhatsApp video call before my departure from Finland, but meeting a person IRL is always so much better. e van is lled with stu for Skomvær, e.g. a new fridge to replace the old one. Elin has a lot to coordinate, since there are several people going out to Skomvær this week. Because of the corona pandemic, the Norwegian state decided to support di erent local projects. Røst AiR got a grant for doing some renovation on a couple of the old buildings on Skomvær, which is a heritage site. e two guys that I saw carrying some hand tools are actually also going out to Skomvær. ey are working for a company hired by Kystverket that cares for the renovation of lighthouses along the Norwegian coastline.

I am also exCIted to experience the society and the nature on Røst, so I will spend some days on Røstlandet before moving out to Skomvær. Elin drives me a couple of kilometers across the main island to Nesset, which lies on the northeastern corner of Røstlandet. She has arranged accommodation for me here in a house for a couple of days. Although the drive is short, we already get to talk about many interesting things, e.g. Sámi culture and electric vs. bioethanol cars. On our way, we stop to talk with some people that Elin knows, and she shows me a garden project she has done with school kids on the island.

after takIng a short power nap, I get outside to see the surroundings. A Great black-backed gull sits on the outermost lamp post of the island. I admire the view of the open sea and the silhouettes of Værøy, Mosken and Lofuohtta in the horizon. My leg feels ok as long I walk slowly on at ground, so I turn around and head the other direction towards the old cemetery and sit down on a wooden bench. I didn’t meet one single car during my walk. It is absolutely quiet and I am re ecting about the words unpretentiousness and timelessness. I like this relaxing feeling of being insigni cant, a sensation that you can get when you are alone in nature. It is so nice to just ignore our stressed and mad civilization for a while. e landscape that surrounds me doesn’t

demand anything from me, I can just enjoy it for free. e oldest bedrock of Lofuohtta is about 2 billions of years old, which gives you a sound perspective. Why get stressed about trivialities?

I meet some sheep that are hanging around chewing grass. ey also seem relaxed. anks to e gulf stream, Røst has a mild and stable climate throughout the year even though it’s situated above the polar circle. Combined with the light summer nights you feel there isn’t so much di erence between day and night. In summer time, I suppose you could sleep with doors and windows wide open, or why not under the open sky like the sheep do?

I walk baCk to the house and make a lentil soup, as Elin is still working with the arrangements for Skomvær and the workers. It feels good with a calm evening and to nally get settled on one place for several days. e journey from Finland through Sápmi and Lofuohtta was amazing, but all the impressions and waking up in a new place every morning makes you overwhelmed and tired. As Elin returns we drink a cup of tea and talk about di erent ways of making the world a better place – e.g. by focusing on the local perspectives. It is a misty night. Elin describes this weather change on Røst as when e Groke character from Moomin comes sneaking

and the landscape suddenly turns cold. Tomorrow we will probably make a boat trip through the Nykan Nature Reserve towards Skomvær. ere will probably be a lot of Atlantic pu ns on the sea as the mist eases. I don’t need to count sheep in order to fall asleep. I somehow dream of birds and mountains.

thursday 16 July

I wake up early, make some oat porridge with plums and cinnamon and then sneak out for a morning walk, not to wake Elin up since I think she worked late. e landscape is surreal and Narnia-like, it is almost like walking inside one of Salvador Dalis paintings. I don’t meet anyone but the birds are awake. As I walk a bit further out on a grass-covered peninsula, a pair of Parasitic jaegers get interested in me and when two ravens start circling quite close over my head –maybe they have their o spring close to the ledge nearby – I decide to turn back. Fish bones and cracked shells lay all over the cli s. As a contrast, beautiful owers ourish between the rocks. Life and death are connected in such an obvious way out here. I think about the natural circle of life that the modern western society is so disconnected from. Sadly, there is also quite a lot of plastic garbage between the rocks – washed ashore

Arriving at the harbor of Røst. The society of Røst gets visible.

A traditional fshing vessel head for the open sea.

The outermost part of Lofuohtta.

I am alone in the harbor as MF Værøy head for Bodø. Vedøya and Storfjellet can be seen in the background.

The old church ruin. Old stone walls.

A beatiful morning on Nesset. On the horizon you can see Lofuohtta, Mosken and Værøy.

The landscape is shaped by the tide.

Leaving Værøy and heading for Røst.

A Great black-backed gull is resting on an electricity pole on Nesset, which lies on the northeastern corner of Røstlandet.

The beaches are flled with shells and seaweed.

Stavøya reminds of an old mans hat and appear as a contrast to the fatness of Røstlandet.

by tidal water and waves. I can’t help thinking about pictures that I have seen of dead birds and stranded whales with their bellies full of colorful plastic – yet another problem caused by fossil capitalism.

I JoIn elIn for a cup of tea and a sandwich as I return ”back home”. She is excited since a group of Orcas (Killer whales) has been spotted just outside Skomvær. I am still a bit tired after all the impressions of Lofuohtta and a bit anxious about riding a small boat on the open sea, so I must admit I am looking forward to the afternoon boat trip with some mixed emotions. To my relief, the weather seems perfect with almost no wind at all.

after lunCh we get in the car and meet up with young sherman Sander at Grimsøya on the opposite side of Røstlandet. Teacher Mari and her friend also join us on the trip. e sea surface is smooth like a mirror. It’s hard to believe that we’re actually out on the Northern Atlantic. e ride isn’t bumpy at all, it is more like driving a car on the highway. It’s also unusually warm for the season – I already mentioned climate change so I won’t repeat myself. As we approach the western side of Stor ellet, Sander slows down the boat. e sea is almost boiling because of the amount of Atlantic pu ns. We don’t want to scare them o , since they are soon

about to leave Norway and need to save all their extra energy for the migration. It’s such a handsome bird, with the colorful beak as a contrast to the black and white. e Atlantic pu n looks more like a penguin or sh when is speeds up on the surface before it manages to make a running takeo . It’s fascinating to imagine that the Atlantic pu n can get over 30 years old, dive deeper than 60 meters and stay under water for up to a minute. What’s not so fascinating is that the population is declining globally and the species is now listed as vulnerable. In the late 1970s e Nykan Nature Reserve still hosted the worlds largest colony with about 1.5 million breeding pairs. Now there are only some hundred thousand left.

we also see lots of other birds, e.g. Eagles, Razorbills, Black guillemots, Great cormorants and more Black-legged kittiwakes. After we’ve passed by Stor ellet and Elevsnyken the fairylike Trenyken island appears right in front of us. With its three (tre means three) steep tops it appears unreal. I can’t help to once again associate to the landscapes of Narnia. No one is allowed to land on the island during summer since the breeding birds are protected during this period. We are not the only ones to feel that Trenyken is a very special place. ere is a cave named Helvete (that’s Hell in English) on the island with

old cave paintings which date back to 1500 BC. Professor Per Fugelli describes Trenyken as a triptych altarpiece painting, a cathedral made by mother nature herself. e gods that were worshiped here later spread to Lofuohtta and middle Norway. When we think about the history of Lofuohtta, we should thus remind ourselves that there was an ancient sea Sámi culture long before the vikings arrived at the scene. Still today, despite of safer boats and GPS navigation, the open ocean feels endless. It is fascinating to imagine people crossing these very same oceans thousands of years ago.

In 1431 a sailing captain from Venice, Pietro Querini, and his crew of 68 men was on their way to Bruges in Flandern. Outside France they encountered a terrible storm and drifted north with the Gulf Stream. In January 1432 the ship stranded on a small island in the Nykan Nature Reserve. It took nearly a month until shermen from Røst discovered the wreck and the eleven men who had survived. Querini, who was one of them, later returned to Venice and got the Italians interested in Norwegian stock sh.

It is assumed that the Italians disembarked at Sandøya, which lies between Stor ellet and Trenyken. A memorial has been erected on the island.

we’re not far from skomvær now and I start to see the details of the lighthouse. We spot a couple of other small boats outside the island. Elin gets a message from Skomvær that they still spotted Orcas from the lighthouse some minutes ago. I suppose the people in the other boats also are curious about them. We slowly enter Keila (which means cone), a narrow and shallow bay, which is the only o cial landing site on Skomvær. Because of tidal water it is possible to land twice a day when the tide is high (at the moment around 14 or 21 pm). en you have to take the waves into account, since they vary depending on wind speed and direction. Local people generally avoid going out to Skomvær if the wind speed gets above 7–8 meters per second. Today it is, however, really calm even out here. As we get closer to the pier, I can see lots of green seaweed and big blue sea urchins through the surface –the Norwegian word ”kråkebolle” (sea urchin) is by the way one of my favorites so far. e sea bottom reminds me of a giant colorful portion of pasta.

we unload fresh water tanks and some building material and a family of four jumps onboard, going back with us to Røst. Before we leave I brie y say hey to Magdaléna, who is working as an intern for Røst AiR. I had a WhatsApp video call with her before my departure from Finland

and I will get to talk more with her later when I move out to here. As everybody is excited by the Orcas, we drive out some kilometers south of Skomvær. However, it seems as if they have moved on, so we head back for Røstlandet. On our way back we slowly pass by some bird cli s where there are a lot of Black-legged kittiwakes. Elin tells us about her Soundscape art projects. She has earlier been working as a DJ, doing gigs in big metropoles around the world. Now that she has settled on Røst, she practices deep listening and makes eld recordings of birds. On one of her latest vinyl records there is a track that she made spending some days and nights in a tent behind these bird cli s.

baCk at grImsøya, we carry empty water containers and assorted waste ashore. Elin says she brings some of the waste back to Bådåddjo since everything can’t be recycled here at Røst. I must say, I admire people that are this consequent and dedicated. We meet up with the family that left from Skomvær and eat dinner together at Havly skarheim before they return to Bådåddjo with the evening ferry. A local Fish burger with fries tastes great after a day at the sea. I guess I have to ask for a local Fiskekake ( sh cake) recipe at some stage. We nish with an ice cream. What a day!

as I lIke routInes, I start the day with eating some oat porridge. It is rainy and windy outside, so I spend some extra time writing diary and sketching on di erent ideas for art projects. However, after a while I feel I should go for a walk to exercise my leg, which seems to be getting better. After an injury, it’s not healthy to just sit still. e muscle needs some exercise. In Finnish they say ”liike on lääke” (motion is medicine). I get dressed in my neon yellow rain clothes and go out to meet the elements. It seems that I am the only one outside, but it is really nice to also experience Røstlandet in this weather. Everything around me is gray and I feel like a neon colored dot in the center of the universe. I walk a trail down to the old church ruin and visit the bird watchers cabin. Some hundred meters from the cabin there is a dead whale on the shore. It is not that big, probably a Nise (Harbour porpoise). I walk around the cemetery where a group of sheep are closely gathered outside the stone wall, looking for shelter against the rain. I continue towards the centre of the island and admire the new church. I take another route by the seaside on my way back to the house. It is only me and the Great black-backed gulls. I feel like Stefan Sundström, a Swedish musician who is very engaged in environmental issues. He recently pub-

Passing by the northern end of Storfjellet. The red hut gives you a perception of the scale of the landscape.

Vedøya appears grey compared to Storfjellet. Røstlandet lies left behind Vedøya.

On Trenyken island there is a cave named Helvete where you can fnd old cave paintings. Already 3500 years ago people warshipped ancient Gods out here.

There is a plateau on top of Storfjellet, whereas the western mountain side is really steep.

Going around the western side of Trenyken.

Sitting in the boat together with Elin.

A short stop in Keila.

Entering Keila, the only harbor on Skomvær.

There is a plateau on top of Storfjellet, whereas the western mountain side is really steep.

The old rusty crane in Keila.

Looking for Orcas some kilometers southeast of Skomvær. On the horizon (from left to right): Skomvær, Hernyken, Trenyken, Ellevsnyken and Storfjellet.

Heading back towards Røstlandet.

A Kittiwake colony on a steep cliff.

Shallow turquoise water between small islands.

Trenyken seen from the south.

Going around the northwestern corner of Vedøya.

There is a cave on the northern part of Vedøya, hidden by the ridge.

Grass grows between the rocks.

The northwestern cliffs on Vedøya are really steep.

lished the book ”Stefans stora blå” about spending a year together with shermen in Norway.

It feels rewardIng to get back inside the house and make some food. I change to dry woolen clothes and take a nap under a sheepskin in the sofa to warm myself up. Sheep wool must be the best clothing material in the world. is is what it is like to feel alive. When I wake up a spider is hanging from the roof above me. I follow its movements for quite a while and think about the potential of ”deep watching”.

sInCe elIn resCued some old tomatoes from the local store, I decide to improvise and prepare a ”rescue dinner”: a tomato-bean sauce with pasta. Elin picks some fresh salad. We discuss patriarchal structures, colonialism and energy issues, and I get to learn more about Sápmi. It is really sad how Sámi culture has been ignored by people in power. Elin picks a book about Sámi history from the shelf. I think about the railway extension that is planned through Sápmi in northern Finland. In Norway Sámi reindeer herders get some compensation if their herd is run over by a train. is alternative is cheaper for the state then building fences, but it can of course be a traumatic experience for the herder. We talk about the brutal mining industry. It feels crazy that mining companies are welcomed with

open arms while there have been occasions when elderly Sámi people are forbidden to use their fourwheeler when picking berries. Instead, they have to rely on frozen berries from the supermarket, often picked under slavery conditions by people own to Scandinavia from East Asia. How weird isn’t that?

saturday 18 July

I wake up early by the beautiful morning light, admire the view towards Værøy and Lofuohtta for a while and then manage to sleep for another hour. After breakfast I handwash some of my clothes and have a WhatsApp video call with the rest of the family. ey are now safely back home in Finland. What a relief to hear that the driving went ok. My partner sounds a bit tired, though. I get outside and start walking towards Lill-Glea and the one and only grocery store on the island. It’s closed on Sundays so I better get there today. It’s not many kilometers, but I sit down a couple of times on wooden benches along the road, just to rest and stretch my leg for a while. Broken sea urchin shells lay on the asphalt. It is a simple but ingenious tactics of the birds to just drop them onto the road. If the shell doesn’t break at the rst attempt, a passing car might complete the work.

the groCery store is situated right by the sea between some shing industry buildings, so it’s also handy to do your food shopping with boat. I clean my hands carefully with sanitizer before entering and keep as long a distance as possible to other customers. I am surprised by the wide supply. I buy some food and ask a friendly guy at the checkout about SD memory cards for digital cameras. I brought my daughters old pocket cameras, which are water resistant, so I think about making some under water footage. erefore, it would be good to have some extra memory cards in case some of them get wet. He checks with his follow workers. ey don’t have any memory cards at the store, but he suggests that I could ask at Røst Videokiosk, since they tend to have everything. e Videokiosk is situated on Ystnesset, so I save that for later.

I sIt down by the wooden table next to the pier. After enjoying the magni cent view towards Vedøya and Stor ellet, and eating yet another ice cream, I start walking back. I pass by Querini Pub&Restaurant and turn left towards Vannverket ( e Water treatment plant) as there seems to be a shortcut trail across the moorland towards the cemetery. e vegetation is barren. ere are no trees on Røstlandet but mostly grass. I spot some crowberries and think of the story about an elderly man that is said to have his secret location

where he picks some liters of cloudberries every year. It’s understandable that there is more sh then berries on the menu here on Røst. I make a stop by the wooden bench in the road crossings by the cemetery. is place is now familiar to me. After sitting down and writing some sentences in my diary book I eat bread, fruit and yogurt while enjoying the landscape. I nish with a sweet chocolate bar and tell myself that I will probably eat healthier, when at Skomvær.

when I walk baCk to the house I start thinking about the similarities between Røst and Larsmo, which is a municipality north of my hometown Jakobstad. Both Røst and Larsmo have longs traditions of shing, and they both describe themselves as communities with 365 islands, one for each day of the year – what a coincidence! It’s also a coincidence that just before I departed from Finland, I nished a public sculpture for the municipality of Larsmo. e Fish’n’boat sculpture, made out of stainless and corten steel, symbolizes the connection and interaction between nature and human culture (see pages 11–12). It strikes me that this sculpture would also t the municipality of Røst. I immediately get some visions about a similar sculpture (see pages 147–154).

I thInk that shermen are real artists of life. As there are Artist in Residencies, why couldn’t there also be Fisherman in Residencies? Maybe I should make a simple proposal for Larsmo and Røst to cooperate on this, it might work out of the concept of twin towns? (see pages 141–142). I know some shermen back in Finland that surely would love to visit Røst and I suppose it would be a special experience for shermen from Røst to visit Ostrobothnia, especially in wintertime when you can do net shing under sea ice. I get back to the house, take a rewarding warm shower and put on fresh clothes.

another boat trIp is announced for the afternoon. I feel that I am still a bit tired and already full of impressions, but Elin insists that it will be great, so I decide to go. After lunch we meet up with Sander and Carina at Grimsøya. Carina is also here as an artist in resident. She is a literary critics from northern Sápmi, now living and working in Mexico City. As we head for Stor ellet, the discussion goes on about the oppression of Sámi people. I listen and learn. e sky is clear and the wind is weak, so the others plan to climb up the mountain while I’ll stay down by the sea. My leg is getting better and I feel comfortable with walking on at ground, but I wouldn’t still stress it with climbing the steep route along Stor ellet. We anchor southwest of the island and the others start climbing.

ey soon disappear as small dark dots on the green and grassy mountain side. It looks quite steep, so I am perfectly comfortable with laying down on my sleeping pad to just admire the view. Skomvær is clearly visible behind Sandøya, Ellevsnyken and Trenyken (see page 47). A small open boat slowly drives towards Ellevsnyken and I see ve eagles circling high in the air around the top of Stor ellet. One of them heads for Trenyken. A Black guillemot ies back and forth picking up sh from the ocean, probably feeding its chicks. A bumble bee pollinates bluebells in the grass next to my head. e wind seems to be picking up a little bit. Sander told us earlier that even though it is generally a calm day, it can get quite windy due to fall wind from the mountain side. ere have even been occasions when smaller anchored boats have keeled over because of a strong fall wind.

baCk In the days, families from Røst used to keep sheep in their own vertically divided sections of these steep slopes. It must have been hard work since nature can get quite rough out here. People have even seen eagles pushing lambs over the cli s to get an easy meal. ere are still a few persons keeping up the farming tradition, for example Kari-Anne Nilsen. e Norwegian NRK broadcasting company actually made a TV series that follows her everyday life on Røst.

A colorful landscape outside Nesset on Røstlandet. A rainbow appears as the tide is low. On the horizon Værøy is covered with a cloud.

Walking along Fv781 on Røst.

Talking with a sheep family in the middle of the rain.

Elin has made a garden project together with school children on Røst. Stavøya in the background.

Boathouse.

Wetland near the airport.

One of few roadsigns.

Out fshing southeast of Vedøya.

Bronze sculpture by the church.

Moorland, houses and Stavøya.

Birdwatchers hut.

A beautiful view from Storfjellet towards Ellevsnyken and Sandøya. Trenyken and Skomvær can be seen in the background.