Norway - between skiing and sailing (Episode 2)

It was aboard the Helt that I spent my spring of 2025. A stay that feels like it lasted much longer. A dive into a magical world I thought was gone. One of wood, flames, sails, tree tar and linseed oil, and unknown scents. A leap back in time. The Helt (Hero in Norwegian) is considered a historic old sailing ship: it began its life in the fjords in 1932, almost a century ago.

So I invite you, through these few lines and the viewing of some images, to immerse yourself in this very special world.

28 meters long and 10 meters wide, the Helt's cargo capacity is 200 tons. Before being inhabited by skiers, the Helt transported goods. First sand, then lobsters, then construction materials again. It was only late that the Helt was adapted to welcome the public. When its former owner died, buried in debt, the bank inherited the ship. Not knowing what to do with it, it was destined to be sunk, abandoned. Ulysse, its captain, saved it from certain death in 2023 by giving it new life. The 10 ^th , 100th? Who knows!

But it's impossible to tell this story without talking about the ship's captain (you already know his name from episode 1). Ulysse (it would have been hard to find a more fitting name for a captain) is a 38-year-old Breton, passionate about old sailing ships. For him, navigation only happens on wooden boats and nothing else. So much so that sometimes it's hard to tell if he hasn't just stepped out of a century before ours. After several years spent traveling the world (from the seas of Australia to the tatamis of many Asian countries), Ulysse acquired his first boat, the Lun II, on which he crossed oceans to transport freight (rum, coffee, and other precious goods) between the old continent and the Antilles. He is also passionate about cooking. Later, in 2023, he saved the Helt from a grim fate and refitted it for ski sailing, much to our delight! The spiritual big brother of the Lun II, it is aboard this ship that we will live this adventure in spring 2025.

On board, I have seen many amazed faces and delighted smiles! The first week, there are 12 skiers from all over the Alps who will be part of our crew. The first on board, Michel, has gray hair. Yet, his sparkling and dreamy eyes are those of a little boy! He rediscovers the sensations of his childhood when he discovered sailing on old tall ships. He is “like a kid.” And we, along with the whole crew, are so happy to see Michel marvel at the boat, but also at his shipmates for the week. All came with eagerness, desire, and also some apprehensions: indeed, the participants do not know each other. Yet, after just a few minutes, a joyful buzz fills the saloon and the magic happens.

Everyone knows that by choosing the Helt, they have chosen an adventure unlike any other, with a different pace, a different rhythm. The atmosphere is family-like, where everyone uses first names from the very first minute. Wood, cotton, and a bucket of water advantageously replace the marbles, automated systems, and other gadgets that break down found on other boats. Rustic but charming, authentic but not without comfort, far from it.

That very evening, we set sail. The boat leaves the Tromsø harbor dock for a week-long voyage around the Lyngen Alps and all the satellite islands of this mountain range. Excitement is at its peak. The sky rewards us with northern lights during the navigation. Minds awaken, and each person finds their own meaning behind these dancing green lights in the sky. For me, it’s the promise of a timeless stay, off the beaten path, a green light for Adventure with a capital A!

Every day, we are awakened by the crackling fire and the smell of bacon and eggs smoking on the stove. The skiers peek out from behind the curtain of their bunks, and Kevinn, the crew’s second-in-command, quickly livens up the atmosphere by playing his compilation of Brazilian music.

After a hearty breakfast, the skiers get dressed and put on their boots. Ulysse, meanwhile, is kneading his bread and preparing the day's sandwiches, always with attention to detail. Once the picnics are packed at the bottom of the bags and the thermoses filled, the brass bell hanging on the mizzen mast is rung, bearing the inscription: “HELT - 1932”. Everyone on deck!

The skiers jump into their bright orange life jackets, load skis and poles onto the two inflatable dinghies. Then, one by one, they board. A suspended moment as we speed off on the small inflatable boats: behind us, the Helt, magnificent at sunrise, almost still. Ahead of us: the beach, fresh snow laid on the sand, the mountain. A new adventure begins. One more!

Once on the beach, the seal skins are glued on carefully to avoid picking up sand, ski boots set to climb mode, but be careful not to step in the water or slip on seaweed!

The procession of skiers is on its way for a few hours of climbing. After just a few dozen minutes, we begin to see the sea at the foot of the mountain. Then, we continue our ascent to the summit. In Norway, the amount of snow increases exponentially fast: after 500m of elevation gain, we start to observe wind effects, snow accumulations, sometimes wind slabs. In the Alps, avalanche bulletins warn for much higher altitudes: 2000, 2500m... Here, 400m is sometimes enough or even less. So vigilance is essential. Another local peculiarity is that the winds are so strong and the snow has significant cohesion. We therefore observe monstrous cornices near ridges and summits.

At the summit, the 360° view over a mix of seas and mountains is striking. By looking closely, you can see most of the routes we will travel in the coming days, or have already traveled.

Most often, as with Storegalten or Uløytinden, the route is a crossing. While we skiers enjoy climbing the mountain, the Helt and its crew have already raised anchor to sail around the land or the island. This way, we can enjoy a descent different from the ascent route. We cross the summit to find our ship on the other side. It’s adventure, discovery. Pleasure? Certainly! But for the guides, it’s also a source of questioning. First and foremost, they must be able to assess the quality of the descent "by sight," meaning without having seen it on the way up. They have to improvise, estimate, orient themselves.

“Helt, Helt, Helt this is Bastien, Bastien, Bastien, do you copy? ………. Bastien, Bastien, Bastien here Helt, Helt, Helt, I copy you loud and clear. How’s it going up there? Are you having fun?” The captain’s voice rings out in my radio. A sweet feeling knowing that the rest of the crew is waiting for us at the foot of the mountain, in our base camp ship, with hot chocolate and a fire blazing at full power.

The glide, at last. Everyone’s joy is written on their faces. The amazed smiles of skiers descending the pristine, virgin, light snow slopes are rewards for the effort made climbing up. Sometimes, a flock of ptarmigans takes flight, sometimes a reindeer crosses just beneath our skis… Norwegian wildlife agrees to offer us moments of waking dreams. Suspended valleys, majestic glacier, birch forests, all kinds of terrain open up to us for the pleasure of our skis and our laughing eyes… Just a few more turns and we’ll see the boat, right there, ahead of us.

After a few skating steps and one or two stream crossings (this year the waterways were barely frozen), we finally arrive on the beach, in a perfect “end of the world.” The gentle lapping is the only sound disturbing the silence reigning over the shore. Kevinn arrives at full speed on the dinghy. Already, the scent of wood fire reveals itself to our senses. Once the “re-boarding” is done, bodies relax; it’s time for everyone to unwind, change, and warm up. Seated around a beautiful stack of crepes, the skiers recall the day’s highlights: the best turns, the most spectacular fall…

Then, one after another, we put on our swimsuits to slip into the hot water of the Norwegian bath on the boat’s deck. But before that, the captain treats us to the traditional jump into the icy seawater! The most hyperactive fish, and some take a few tacks on the light sail of the small 1920s sailboat: a little wooden and cotton gem that we carefully restored at the start of the season. Guaranteed thrills!

Then, a calm moment and the boat heads towards the next destination… The stoves are hot, the bread comes out of the oven, the legs of lamb are tied by the chef’s hand. On board, everything is handmade, artisanal. No recipe, just inspired improvisation! The guides are working on the best routes for the next day, the skiers are dozing in their bunks.

In the evening, when the lights are out and the candles are lit, it’s ritual: we set a large table for the whole crew. The symphonies of Bach and Mozart are also part of this tradition. No table without a good classic. Soups, herbs, roasts, legs of lamb, fresh loaves of bread, crusted fish, grilled marinated vegetables follow one another, layering to create a table worthy of Asterix’s feasts. It’s only in the evening that the whole crew gathers. The sailors tell their sea stories to the mountaineers and vice versa. Finally, after a long and beautiful day that seemed to last several, everyone returns to their cozy feather nest for the night, their mind already among the stars. 

Each passing day is an adventure. Our freedom of action with the Helt and the crew allows us to imagine everything, to consider everything. And that’s what I love to find aboard!

During this April, several teams took turns aboard. The second was made up of part of the French ski mountaineering team. With them, the crystal globe freshly won by Thibault Anselmet in Tromsø a few days earlier. Thibault didn’t hide his pleasure in filling it with beer! 

My friend Symon (Welfringer) is also part of the trip. Together, we indulged in our shared passion for “the beam,” a famous small wooden tool climbers use to hang from to maintain and even increase their finger strength. This week, the days didn’t just count double, but quadruple: at a frantic pace of 2000 to 3000 meters of daily elevation gain, the team devours peaks two by two. 

Léo Viret, the coach of the French ski mountaineering team and guide aboard the Helt with me, is delighted: “my guy, days at this pace with clients like these don’t happen every day!!” Lunar. That’s the adjective he keeps repeating. The guy isn’t bothered by the pace of his protégés. He takes advantage of the rare breaks to take out his camera. We use this opportunity to explore the spots we had scouted in previous seasons. 

The two mascots of our team, Cerise and Prunelle, the captain’s 7-year-old twin daughters, also appreciated the spirit of this team: thanks to a rope and wood contraption made by their father, the two girls are pulled by their mounts (Gédéon Pochat as a draft horse) like on a ski tow. Who could imagine making their first turns and learning to ski beyond the Arctic Circle on an island at the edge of the world with the evocative name Uløya?

Weeks follow one another and are never the same. The next crew is made up of a group of friends, one of whom was in high school with me. We are happy to reunite after so many years. Friendship doesn’t age. We ski, laugh, and resonate in unison. This week, the crew has a new member: Sam is a skipper, captain on other boats. He is behind a project to renovate a huge 1904 sailing ship in Copenhagen, Denmark, the Hawila (go check out his project!). On board such a ship, all the oceans of the planet are within reach! We spend entire evenings dreaming of even more distant expeditions… Svalbard, Greenland, Antarctica, South Georgia, evocative names full of mystery. Will we manage to reach these extreme lands? Time will tell!

Once again this year, simplicity, authenticity, everyone’s passion, and shared joys contributed to a magic so hard to describe with words. We experienced a return to essentials, a chosen life pause. Magical.

I hope that through these few lines I was able to take you along with us a little. And you, are you tempted to explore the far North?