FAR NORTH
Expedition start: Grense Jakobselv, Norway. The other side of the small river is Russia. The border commissioner was very clear: stay this side. The road to get here is still closed by winter snows, so it is thanks to the Norwegian army that I am starting only three days later than planned. It wasn’t easy to end up here, but neither was it hard. It was just a case of searching for pieces to the jigsaw. How did a boy from Clacton end up here, I wondered then? By talking to people, I realise now. Because no one gets anywhere truly on their own. The first days sailed are also spent re-learning to sail. I have food and gas supplies for considerable autonomy, but the weight makes the board heavier than I am used to. Upwind the nose slaps and downwind it capsizes. But I adapt, and my drysuit keeps me dry. I sail north to round Nordkinn – Europe’s most northerly mainland point, then duck inside the more celebrated but insular Nordkapp. Those first 350 kms are the most extraordinary of my windsurfing life. I make for settlements and do find people – but between it is barren arctic: true wilderness. I sail with whales, clearly a bigger deal for me than for them, camp in places that blow my mind, and survive a traumatic, overpowered, downwinder to reach the town of Honningsvåg, where I sleep in an ice-fishing tent.