First of all, I must take you back a few hours to our little walk on Kvitsoy. The messing about all started on account of the interesting terrain on our walk. First of all, Jim started flying, which, given his advanced years and bus pass ownership, was surprising. It was, however, permitted, as he once had a licence to do it.
Then Peter jumped out of his skin and into it again on the other side, thereby demonstrating both the agility and dexterity of the legal profession, and also how hard he has to work being in more than one place at the same time.
Finally John joined in too, with a blue-sky leap to find out how his knees were doing. (Rachael, you can tell Hilary "So far, so good")
We found our way out of Kvitsoy, weaving down the well-marked the channel into a force 6 southerly breeze. Actually, this was yesterday's photo too - you can see Voltair down on the guest quay, right by the ensuite bathroom.
Unlike this picture, the weather on Tuesday was gusty and grey, with drizzle and worse to follow. However, it was only a two-hour run to Stavanger, and we were moored up quite conveniently close to the Oil Museum by 2pm, pangs assuaged by chicken sandwiches en route.
Thanks to Michael and Christine Gimber for recommending this visit while in the area!
The museum was due to shut at 4, so we hurried in and immersed ourselves in geology and technology, pausing only for a wonderfully artistic presentation of "The universe - its creation and destiny" in a darkened mirrored room with ceiling and floor projectors - just like being inside a huge kaleidescope.
This is a still from the bit where the plants die and help form the hydrocarbons under the next layer of sandstones and capping rocks. Part of the museum is built out over the harbour and, as well as the mirror-hall, houses a mock up of a drilling floor, complete with sound effects and a turning drill string. Tony, Peter and Jim also tried the oilman's equivalent of the fireman's pole - a set of convoluted tubular nets that drop you in relative safety down 30ft of drill platform.
As we came out of the restaurant attached to the museum at 5pm, the rain began. It continued, in various degrees of intensity for the following 14 hours and the bucket gauge on the stern had about 3 inches of water in it in the morning.
The plan to go out on the town was first delayed and then cancelled.
Tilley was cajoled into warming luminescence.
Nearing 'dishing up time', with cabbage hovering over the saucepan and carrots just coming to the boil, the gas ran out! For the first and, hopefully, the last time on the trip, JK donned full oilskins and hood, then ventured into the driving rain armed with two scredrivers and a waterproof torch. Jubilee clips were undone and done up again and British Butane continued where Norwegian Propane had left off. The gammon sizzled out of the oven at 9pm and we had another splendid feast, begun with a toast in Aquavit.
Well oiled? We were by bedtime!
Click here for our previous postcard
Click here for our later postcard
Until next time
Jim, JK, Peter and Tony