Norway - between skiing and sailing (Episode 2)

It was aboard the Helt that I spent my spring of 2025. A stay that seemed to last much longer. A dive into a magical universe I thought had disappeared. One of wood, flames, sails, tree tar and linseed oil, and unknown smells. 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.

I therefore suggest that, through these few lines and the viewing of a few images, you immerse yourself in this very special world.

At 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 building materials again. It was only later that the Helt was converted to accommodate the public. When its former owner died, drowning in debt, the bank inherited the boat. Not knowing what to do with it, it was destined to be sunk, abandoned. Ulysses, its captain, saved it from certain death in 2023, breathing new life into it. The ^10th , 100th? Who knows!

But it's impossible to tell this story without telling you about the ship's captain (you already know his name from episode 1). Ulysses (it would be hard to find a more appropriate name for a captain) is a 38-year-old Breton with a passion for old sailing ships. For him, sailing takes place on wooden boats and nothing else. So much so that it's sometimes difficult to know if he hasn't just arrived from a century before ours. After several years spent on the roads of the world (from the seas of Australia to the tatami mats of many Asian countries), Ulysses acquired his first boat, the Lun II, on which he would cross the oceans to carry freight (rum, coffee, and other precious foods) between the old continent and the West Indies. He also has a passion for cooking. Later, in 2023, he rescued the Helt from a disastrous fate and readapted it for ski-sailing, to our great delight! The spiritual big brother of the Lun II, it is on board that we will experience this adventure in spring 2025.

On board, I saw many amazed faces and amazed smiles! The first week, 12 skiers from all over the Alps will be part of our crew. The first on board, Michel, has gray hair. Yet, his sparkling, dreamy eyes are those of a little boy! He is rediscovering the sensations of his childhood, when he discovered sailing on old sailing ships. He is "like a kid." And we, along with the entire crew, are so happy to see Michel discovering the boat with wonder, as well as his companions on board for the week. All came with haste, desire, and also some apprehension: in fact, the participants don't know each other. Yet, after only a few minutes, a joyful hubbub enlivens the saloon and the magic happens.

Everyone knows that by choosing the Helt, they've chosen an adventure like no other, with a different rhythm, a different pace. The atmosphere is familial, where everyone is on first-name terms from the very first minute. Wood, cotton, and a bucket of water are a welcome replacement for the marble, automated systems, and other breakable gadgets found on other boats. Rustic, yet charming, authentic, but not without comfort, far from it.

That same evening, we set sail. The boat leaves the dock at Tromsø harbor for a week-long cruise around the Lyngen Alps and all the satellite islands of this massif. The excitement is at its peak. The sky graces us with the Northern Lights as we sail. Consciousness is awakening, and everyone finds the meaning behind these dancing green lights in the sky that suits them. For me, it's the promise of a timeless stay, off the beaten track, a green light for Adventure with a capital A!

Every day, we're awakened by the crackling of the fire and the smell of bacon and eggs smoking on the stove. Skiers peek out from behind the curtains of their bunks, and Kevinn, the crew's first mate, quickly livens things up by putting on his Brazilian music compilation.

After a hearty breakfast, the skiers get dressed and put on their boots. Ulysse is kneading his bread and preparing the day's sandwiches, always with attention to detail. Once the picnics are in the bags and the thermoses filled, the brass bell hanging from the mizzenmast is rung, on which the inscription: "HELT - 1932" can be read. All hands on deck!

The skiers jump into their bright orange life jackets, load their skis and poles onto the two inflatable tenders. Then, each in turn, climbs aboard. A moment stands still as we set off at full speed on the small inflatable boats: behind us, the Helt, magnificent at sunrise, almost motionless. Ahead: the beach, fresh snow on the sand, the mountain. A new adventure begins. One more!

Once on the beach, the sealskins are glued on, taking great care not to take any sand with them, the ski boots in uphill mode, but be careful not to put a foot in the water or slip on any seaweed!

The procession of skiers is on its way for a few hours of climbing. After only a few dozen minutes, we begin to see the sea at the foot of the mountain. Then, we continue our ascent towards the summit. In Norway, the amount of snow increases exponentially quickly: after 500m of vertical drop, we begin to observe the effects of the wind, accumulations of snow, sometimes wind slabs. In the Alps, avalanche bulletins warn for much higher altitudes: 2000, 2500… Here, 400m is sometimes even less. So vigilance is required. Another local peculiarity: the winds are so powerful and the snow has significant cohesion. We therefore observe cornices around the ridges and summits that can be monstrous.

At the summit, the 360° view of a mixture of sea and mountains is poignant. If you look closely, you can see most of the routes you'll be hiking in the coming days, or have already hiked.

Most often, as with the Storegalten or the Uløytinden, the route is a traverse. While we skiers enjoy climbing the mountain, the Helt and its crew have already weighed anchor to circumnavigate the land, or the island. This way, we can enjoy a different descent route than the one we took on the ascent. 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, we must ensure we can assess the quality of the descent "on sight," that is, without having seen it on the way up. We must improvise, estimate, and orient ourselves.

"Helt, Helt, Helt from Bastien, Bastien, Bastien, do you hear me? ………. Bastien, Bastien, Bastien this Helt, Helt, Helt, I hear you loud and clear. How are things up there? Are you having fun?" The captain's voice echoed through my radio. It's a sweet feeling to know 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.

The slide, finally. Everyone's joy is evident on their faces. The astonished smiles of the skiers hurtling down the slopes of immaculate, virgin, light snow are all rewards for the efforts made on the way up. Sometimes, a flock of ptarmigan takes flight, sometimes, it's a reindeer that crosses right under our skis... The Norwegian fauna conspires to offer us moments of waking dream. Hanging valleys, majestic glaciers, birch forests, all types of terrain are offered to us for the pleasure of our skis and our laughing eyes... Just a few more turns and we'll see the boat, there, in front of us.

After a few skating steps and one or two stream crossings (this year the waterways have barely been covered), we finally arrive at the beach, in a perfect "end of the world." The slight lapping is the only sound that disturbs the silence reigning on the foreshore. Kevinn arrives at full speed on the dinghy. Already, the scent of the wood fire reveals itself to our senses. Once the "re-embarkations" are completed, the bodies relax, it's time for everyone to relax, change, and warm up. Seated around a nice pile of pancakes, the skiers recall the day's highlights: the best turns, the biggest fall...

Then, one by one, we put on our swimsuits to slip into the scalding water of the Norwegian bath, on the deck of the boat. But before that, the captain treats us to the traditional jump into the icy sea water! The most active go fishing, and some enjoy a few tacks under light sail on the small 1920s sailing boat: a little gem of wood and cotton that we took care to restore at the beginning of the season. Thrills guaranteed!

Then, a calm spell, and the boat sets sail for its next destination... The stoves are hot, the bread is fresh from the oven, and the legs of lamb are tied by the chef's hand. On board, everything is handcrafted, artisanal. No recipes, but what enlightened improvisation! The guides are working on the best routes for the next day, while the skiers are dozing in the bunks.

In the evening, when the lights are out and the candles are out, it's the ritual: we set a large table for the entire 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, loaves of fresh bread, fish en croute, and grilled marinated vegetables follow one another, layering each other to create a table worthy of Asterix's feasts. It's only in the evening that the entire crew gets together. 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 minds already in the stars.

Every day that passes is an adventure. Our freedom of action with the Helt and the crew allows us to imagine and consider anything. And that's what I love about coming on board!

During the month of April, several teams took turns on board. The second consisted of part of the French ski mountaineering team. Along with them, they carried the crystal globe, freshly won by Thibault Anselmet in Tromsø a few days earlier. Thibault certainly enjoyed filling it with beer!

My friend Symon (Welfringer) is also part of the trip. Together, we were able to indulge in our shared passion for "the beam," the famous little wooden tool used by climbers to hang from to maintain and even increase their finger strength. This week, the days no longer counted double, but quadruple: at a frenetic pace of 2,000 to 3,000 meters of daily elevation gain, the team devoured the summits two by two.

Léo Viret, the coach of the French ski mountaineering team and guide aboard the Helt with me, is delighted: "My man, days at this pace with clients like that, it's not every day!!" Lunar. This is the adjective that keeps coming to his mouth. The guy isn't fazed by the pace of his protégés. He takes advantage of the rare moments of rest to take out his camera. We take advantage of this potential to explore the nooks and crannies we had spotted in previous seasons.

Our team's two mascots, Cerise and Prunelle, the captain's two 7-year-old twins, also appreciated the team's enthusiasm: thanks to a rope and wood craft made by their father, the two girls are pulled by their mounts (Gédéon Pochat as a draft horse) as if on a ski lift. Who could imagine making their first turns and learning to ski beyond the Arctic Circle on an island at the end of the world with the sweet, evocative name of Uløya?

The weeks go by and are all different. The next crew is made up of a group of friends, one of whom was in high school with me. We are delighted to be reunited after so many years. Friendship never gets old. We ski, laugh, and vibrate in unison. This week, the crew has a new member: Sam is a skipper, a captain on other boats. He is behind a renovation project for a huge 1904 sailboat in Copenhagen, Denmark, the Hawila (go take a look at his project !). Aboard 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 regions? Time will tell!

This year again, simplicity, authenticity, everyone's passion, and shared joys contributed to a magic so difficult to describe in words. We experienced a return to the essentials, a chosen interlude in life. Magical.

I hope that these few lines have been able to transport you a little with us. And you, do you fancy exploring the great North?