By ABC News - Øivind Sanden - Gunnar R. Larsen - 23 Oct. 2023 15:59

I cannot see it as escape. For me, it's about being attracted to something. Which pulls me in a direction. The motivation is in front, not behind me. I think that those who need to run away from themselves, run away into a relationship, run away into a new job, very few of them will be happy. 

Follow the dream. Don't delay. Have a good time. Don't look back. The worst thing is not to die, but to stop and live.

This has been skipper Øivind Sanden's mantra.

Seven years ago he took the big leap. He wanted to travel. For at least three years. On the open sea and in narrow straits. Experience other cultures. Meeting strange people. And dare to be alone.

“You, Dad. I have been very afraid of the project you were about to embark on now. And I'm afraid you won't come back to us again. But lately I have found peace in the thought that if you die, you die in your dream".

- Then I die

- Suddenly I was lying outside the boat with both legs up to my hips. I grabbed hold of a wall so I could hold on. I didn't think anything while it was happening, and nothing along the lines of "now I'm going to die." Everything was focused on how I was going to manage to get back up again, says Vaare's captain, Øivind Sanden. Photo: Gunnar R. Larsen, ABC

This was the last greeting from his eldest daughter before he set sail from the harbor at home in Sagvåg in Stord on 2 June 2016 at 09.15. The rest is history. The years at sea have been a calculated risk.

- I can get punched. Then it is often a matter of two or three minutes, then you have to get treatment. It cannot be solved easily when you are 20 hours from land, alone, and you do not have time to call for help. Then I die. In a way, I have made up with myself. I'm not suicidal by any means, but if it happens, it happens.

So coldly and soberly has he settled the accounts should the unthinkable happen. Age is still not a factor, but the risk is higher than if he had been a few decades younger.

- I am at an age where things can happen. I'm a little overweight, and I can get blood clots. Things can happen that cannot be resolved. In a way, you must have a clear relationship with this. If you cross the street in Oslo, something can also happen. I think you must have the ability to improvise and solve problems. And the ability to ask for help and accept help, says Øivind Sanden.

Sailor "Birk"
He has had many good helpers along the way. Either old friends, new friends or strangers whom he has met in the countless ports where he has docked.

When ABC Nyheter meets the captain of the 46-foot-long wooden schooner, a so-called clipper ketch built in Vaagen boat building in Aukra near Molde in 1992, Vaare is safely anchored on the northwest side of Vesterøya on Hvaler.

After sailing from the slightly sleepy harbor town of Grenaa in East Jutland, through the Kattegat and across the Skagerrak to Norway, the 71-year-old is finally at the end of the road. That is to say, the journey is not really over until he returns to Stord during the autumn, and has sailed with Vaare around the southern coast and home to Skjærsholmane.

He welcomes you hospitably on the morning of Friday the 13th. The red sails on the ship are down. Inside the cabin, the contours of a grey-blasted sailor can be seen bent over a book. As I approach the schooner, barking is heard. It is the "sailor" Birk Octopus, an eight-year-old flat coated retriever, who warns that strangers are outside the boat's hatch.

After around 2,500 days on board the schooner Vaare, there has been plenty of time to think and take stock of life. - I think a lot on board. This has been an external and internal journey. It's a cliché, but it's very true. I have broken a lot of barriers in myself on this trip. Like the fear of the open water, says Øivind Sanden. Photo: Ø. Sanden

- Feels an inner turmoil

When the ship's door opens, Birk wags. The captain comes out, flashes a big smile, and welcomes you on board in the sounding Haugesund dialect. The coffee is ready within a few minutes. Sanden has a lot on his mind today.

- I have never had the dream of traveling around the world, so I decided two years ago that I would go home, to Norway. My original plan was to spend this winter in Ireland. Take the south of England with you, go to Ireland and stay there for six months, and then Scotland, Orkney and Shetland, and over to Stord from there, says the skipper with a warm smile.

But fate, or intuition, willed it differently. One night he awoke, and lay brooding. Suddenly it was clear to him. The travel plan had to be changed. There was no doubt in his mind.

- I'm like that, when I'm in phases where a decision is approaching that I don't really know I'm going to make, I feel an inner turmoil. What is the basis for that, I shall be careful to say, because I do not quite know. Then I woke up one morning in northern Spain. Then it suddenly dawned on me. My cup of experience is full. I have fulfilled what I was supposed to, and well so. I'm full. I'm going home.

"The most dangerous thing is if I stop living"

Only "sailor" on board: Birk Octopus, an eight-year-old flat coated retriever, is used to high seas and calm seas after seven years of sailing. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

After this awakening, there was no turning back. Although the radar went awry on the last voyage, and he barely made it ashore before a predicted storm broke loose over the Skagerrak, he was able to moor the boat safely at Hesthella at the far end of Vesterøya. Now he can finally lower his shoulders.

Not that he has had a fear of death or a constant worry that something terrible will happen. This way he is not screwed up. And he also doesn't want to romanticize the journey, or brag about the achievement.

- I don't see myself as a Roald Amundsen, but there aren't that many people who sail alone. I sometimes paraphrase Neil Armstrong's famous words when he landed on the Moon: "One small step for mankind, but one giant leap for a simple man from Haugesund." That is my perspective. If I'm going to say something really big, I have a slogan that says "the most dangerous thing is not if I die, but if I stop living".

- I have broken many barriers in myself

Along the way, the enterprising and courageous Haugesunder has made many big decisions. It has brought both ups and downs, but there has been a lot of tailwind and many sunny days.

He has already made the last big choice. It will have consequences for the rest of his life. But we'll get back to that.

After around 2,500 days on board the schooner Vaare, there has been plenty of time to think and take stock of life. The 71-year-old is not a typical thinker, but he is committed and happy to share.

- I try to reflect a little on what I experience. You think a lot on board. "Sand on the sea" is an outer and inner journey. It's a cliché, but it's very true. I have broken a lot of barriers in myself on this trip. Like the fear of the open water.

Like when he was left drifting due to an engine stall far from land off the coast of Sicily on his way over to Monastir in Tunisia. The tugboat, which was recommended by the coast guard, demanded NOK 250,000 to tow Vaare ashore. It still ended up far cheaper, and the price tag came to NOK 20,000. As the insurance company covered.

- Today I know that I will spend the rest of my days in the boat. Here I will be carried ashore, either by ambulance personnel or a funeral home. Vaare is my home now and for the rest of my life, as I see it today. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

- With the waves above me, I thought: "Now you have the choice"

He tells about when he went around Southern Norway, up to Oslo, and then down to the Swedish coast. As the boat passed Vinga lighthouse outside Gothenburg, where Evert Taube grew up, he was going on to Læsø in Denmark. Here he faced the first test of manhood.

- It was the first open stretch that I had. I remember when I got out into the waves there, and had the jib sail up. Then it suddenly got stuck, and I had to go and fix it. As I stood there with the waves above me, I remember saying to myself, “Now you have the choice. You can show that you can do this. Or you can turn around and go home with your tail between your legs.” Fortunately, I continued on, and when I reached the harbor in Denmark I was so happy that I sang: "When the saints come marching in", he says with a rolling laugh.

- Are you a good skipper?

- It's not just about tolerating, but liking being alone. That has been part of what the journey has given me. Tranquility. I can sit for ten hours without doing anything. Not everyone can do that, laughs Øivind Sanden. Photo: Gunnar R. Larsen, ABC

- What I feel the least confident about is sailing. I think there are very big forces at work when we pass ten second meters. I have 127 square meters of sail. Usually it goes well, but if something happens and I'm alone, it doesn't go well. Therefore, I am probably a rather cowardly sailor compared to many others. I think it's wise. I have a lot of safety equipment on board, but you're never guaranteed when you're out at sea. Therefore, I read weather reports quite carefully, and have become quite good at deciphering them, which means that I choose my sailing days carefully.

That could have been the end

There was, however, one episode that made an extra impression. It could have gone very wrong, and been the fatal end of the journey. The dramatic incident occurred when he was about to sail from Lebanon back to Cyprus, a journey that takes about 24 hours. Thus Vaare had to travel through the darkness of the night, with the radar as a beacon. On the way he was surprised by a terrific storm.

- During the night there was a terrible thunderstorm, which I had not seen coming. It was windy and the sea was high. It was violent. I discovered that the life raft aft of the deck had come loose. It was tied, but had worn. Now it was moving. At 2-3 in the morning I decided to fasten it. That's when I made the mistake, which I really should have been more aware of. I had not driven the boat up against the waves. Thus I got the strong waves in the longitudinal direction against the ship. It was very slippery out there, recalls Øivind Sanden.

Birk takes a sea bath between the voyages. - I am terribly happy to have Birken with me, says the skipper. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

- I was probably a bit shaky, but I was never scared after this

Suddenly there was a huge wave that he was not prepared for. That could have been the end.

- I slipped and fell like a sack. Suddenly I was lying outside the boat with both legs up to my hips. I grabbed hold of a wall so I could hold on. At the same time, the boat started to go in the opposite direction. This happened a couple of times before I managed to join the boat in its movement to one side, and then got back on board the boat, he tells of the horror experience at sea.

There and then he never had time to philosophize about whether his last hour had come.

- I didn't think anything while it happened, and nothing along the lines of "now I'm going to die". Everything was focused on how I was going to manage to get back up. I was probably a little shaky, but I was never scared after this. I had many hours left before I was on land again. The weather was still very bad, so I was fully focused on what I had to do. You will only get the reactions a while later.

- Never buys souvenirs

Vaare's itinerary from June 2016 to October 2023. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

While the captain reflects on the long journey to, among other things, Turkey, Greece, Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, Lebanon, Tunisia and the Netherlands, the first gusts of wind from the dawning storm in the Skagerrak are about to make themselves felt.

Øivind Sanden collects memories, but stores them on the retina. The boat is not a storage place. That's why he doesn't run down local merchants who sell everything from carpets to camels.

- I also never buy souvenirs from the places I visit. I only buy what can be drunk, eaten or experienced. If you live in a boat, what you can take with you is very limited.

Inside the cabin, the dog Birk shows great joy that there are visitors on board. It wags, sniffs, licks and wants constant cuddles and attention, before it finally lies down calmly on the deck.

- He doesn't know about anything else. This is his life. When the waves are at their worst, he doesn't like it. Then he becomes very contact-seeking or goes to bed in the shower. Or in the hallway below deck with your back against one wall and your legs against the other. There he calmly lies down and sleeps, says the captain about his only and very best companion.

- The silence is good

Together they have experienced more than many do in a lifetime. On rough and calm seas. At sunrise and sunset.

- I am terribly happy to have Birken with me, says the skipper. And the joy obviously seems mutual.

- Are you sometimes afraid of the silence on board?

- Not at all. I think the silence is good. I've never been a nightclub person. Many sailors go to local pubs and bars. I don't mind that. I go to bed early. In winter, I may go to bed at 6-7. But then I get up at 4-5 o'clock. I love those hours before the light comes. Then everything is quiet. And the first streaks of light come over the horizon. I think it's wonderful.

- There is only one of this schooner in the world. It is specially designed and specially built. It was built in 1992. It is completely unique. There is no one like it. I get a lot of attention when I travel down, because it is very nicely drawn. But now the ship is tired and needs a lot of love, realizes skipper Øivind Sanden on the ship Vaare. Photo: Gunnar R. Larsen, ABC

- Are you consciously looking for new experiences?

- I think it is very much about openness to life. I think two people can go into a situation. For one, it will be a great experience. For the other, he or she has just been there. I'm also looking for experiences, by all means, but the most exciting experiences often come without special prompting. They just come. It could be people I meet. Many meetings happen spontaneously.

- Will there be a lot of drinking on such a long journey with a lot of alone time?

- Yes, it can be, but I try to be very conscious of it. And I have been all along. I have never felt any fear of becoming an alcoholic, but I have told myself that there are bigger people than me who have slipped into it without it being the plan. I keep accounts of my money. I make a distinction between food and alcohol in my accounts, so I can always see what expenses I have for alcohol. It is much cheaper abroad, says the 71-year-old. He drives with relatively strict self-discipline, and has kept a steady and stable daily rhythm to manage the voyage.

- Can't see it as an escape

Øivind Sanden does not see the seven-year journey as the result of a life crisis or a deep desire to get away, but more as a longing to get closer to life, and himself, at sea.

- I occasionally paraphrase Neil Armstrong's famous words when he landed on the Moon: "One small step for mankind, but one giant leap for a simple man from Haugesund." Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

- I don't know, but for me it's great to travel like this. Away from everyday life? Yes. Experience something different? Yes. But I can't see it as escape. For me, it's about being attracted to something. Which pulls me in a direction. The motivation is in front, not behind me. I think that those who need to run away from themselves, run away into a relationship, run away into a new job, very few of them will be happy. You may well find yourself, but for me it is a motivation for the future, and not a retrospective motivation. I've met quite a few younger people who have done it, but I can't see it that way. You find yourself in many ways on a trip like this.

- I thought that now was the time I should have left

He knows of many who carry a dream, but who never realize it. He himself took the big leap when he was convinced that the time had come. At that time, he was by definition inexperienced in traveling the open sea alone. But he didn't let that stop him.

- I've never taken a sailing course, but I took the boat driving test at the time. Then I raised the sail and began to see what was happening. I've talked to people along the way, and for me it's a bit about the ability to absorb lessons. It was a crazy idea to sail to Istanbul. In retrospect, I have thought that it was now that I should have left, with the experience I have gained. At the same time, I have met a number of people who carry the dream, and will fulfill it. As in the Albert Åberg book: "Skal bare" and so on. But then they never get started. Therefore, it is a lot about daring to walk, daring to experience, daring to face what you don't quite know what the other side looks like.

- I immediately fell in love with the concept and the boat. A bit like seeing the most beautiful girl in the class in town, says the captain from Haugesund. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

Want to be carried ashore: - I'm not on a trip. This is my life

The idea was to be gone for the first three years on saved funds, and then he would return again and continue to live in Valdres. That plan failed by a good margin.

- When I came to Germany in September 2016, I woke up one morning. Then I got a kind of understanding, deep inside me, that I am not on a trip. This is my life. This is how I live, and this is how I will live. This is where I belong.

It was only then that he decided to sell the house and the company, break away from everything and head for Istanbul. Now it had to make or break.

- Today I know that I will spend the rest of my days in the boat. Here I will be carried ashore, either by ambulance personnel or a funeral home. Vaare is my home now and for the rest of my life, as I see it today. - It was a life crisis, a kind of total collapse

But life has not always been kind to Øivind. The entrance to life was dark and painful. The vulnerable boy was exposed to some neglect, and grew up without a mother and father. He has his first childhood memory of the dining room at an orphanage in Haugesund. A childless aunt and uncle took him in and gave the little boy a childhood and youth with love, as if he were their own son.

- I think those who travel have an urge for adventure, without being Lars Monsen. Experiencing new things, I think that is the basis. For me, it's about genuine well-being at sea. Photo: Gunnar R. Larsen, ABC

- If I'm going to be very personal, I had a very troubled start to life. Today I would have been taken away from my family and placed in a foster home. I didn't know my mother until I was 24 years old. I never got a mother relationship. My mother's photo is lost.

When Øivind Sanden was in his early 20s, after a year as an exchange student in the USA, he decided to study to become a priest in the Methodist Church. But after a few years, life took a new turn. He quit as a priest, changed jobs, got divorced and moved to Valdres. Today, the former priest does not consider himself a believer in the traditional sense. He doubts more than he thinks.

- It was a kind of life crisis, and a kind of total collapse. Today, I am happy with the background I have. I'm not ashamed of it at all. Relationally, it means a lot. This with meeting people. Trying to understand, and even more importantly, asking questions, I take with me from that time there. When it comes to faith today, I tend to say that I stand at the intersection between faith and agnosticism. The part of me that is faithful, it is very pierced, like a sieve. Then I am probably more attracted to the Greek Orthodox Church where there is room for mysteries and wonder.

- I have never regretted it for a second

About an hour has passed. Øivind Sanden has long spoken warmly. His eyes sparkle when he talks about his journey. There is a lot to be processed now.

Mooring the boat on Norwegian soil feels right. Although the journey was intended to last even longer, he has come to terms with the fact that the adventure is now over.

- It has been good. I know harmony. I know peace, to use an almost high-pitched expression. I just know that I am where I am supposed to be. This is my life. I have never regretted it for a second. I can still sit here. It can be stormy outside. It gives me a feeling of living close to nature, and yet being safe and comfortable inside. Sitting in the boat, and having it so close, makes me happy, I was about to say.

- One of the factors why I have managed to complete the trip, if nothing unforeseen happens in the last days and weeks before I am home in Stord, is time. That I have had a good time. It doesn't matter to me to stay in bed for another three days or a week. It's not something I have to do, says the Vaare captain. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

- Do you enjoy your own company?

- It's not just about tolerating it, but liking it. I feel incredibly comfortable in my own company. And that has been part of what the journey has given me. Tranquility. I can sit for ten hours without doing anything. Not everyone can do it. I can be very active. But then I can also be very inactive. I believe that is an important characteristic. It's a bit about daring to be, and not hooking your identity on doing. It's very scary. And that is not sustainable. Even if you succeed in that, you get the silence afterwards.

- Then you are just present

The captain believes that it is a lot about a fundamental experience of identity and belonging.

- It's probably one of the things I've become more aware of from sitting in the boat. When you are at sea and go three days without seeing or talking to anyone, without internet or mobile. Then you are just present.

- And a little lonely?

- There are periods when I need solitude. Then I can be quite effective at shutting people out, even when I'm in port. Almost a little relentless. I have been sailing with someone for a month, but I am and will be a notorious "loner". When people write about the pandemic, about how bad it was, that's a problem I struggle with. Because it's not a problem to be alone.

When I read all these tear-jerking stories that come out every Christmas, about those who celebrate Christmas alone, the advice is always "get out there and connect with someone". And that is surely the right thing. But I think, why can't we teach each other to come face to face with ourselves, and learn to be so safe that you don't necessarily need to be around others all the time. But I see that I don't get much professional or human support for that view there.

Newly divorced and penniless - retired as a priest

When the waves get high and rough, Birk finds a place to sleep until it's over. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

Why he even ended up traveling for seven consecutive years also has its natural explanation. The desire to travel has always been there, but it would be many years before he bought his own boat, laid out the itinerary and got serious about giving in to the desire to travel.

- It is probably complex. I have had the dream of a boat for many years. It has been a gradual development, which has grown naturally, and not something I have thought about for 40 years. I grew up in Haugesund. The family had a small boat when I was a boy. And then I lived in Valdres for many years, from 1998 to 2016. Then I always had to go out and see the ocean when I visited my family in Haugesund. So the dream of sea and boat has always been there, he says.

When Øivind quit as a priest, he joined the Association of Funeral Directors in Norway. He was there for five years before he bought his own funeral home. He then worked for a friend, who ran a funeral home in Moss.

- I'm a hair's breadth away from moving by boat. But at that time I was unable to finance it. I had a boat worth 5-600,000 on hand, I was newly divorced, had no money, and because the boat was not registered in the ship register, the bank has no security in the boat. So then it was smoking, in 1996.

- I fell in love straight away

14 years later, in 2010, he browsed a bit for boats. Suddenly he discovered Vaare.

- I immediately fell in love with the concept and the boat. A bit like seeing the most beautiful girl in the class in town, the skipper reminisces.

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In the spring of 2011, he got the contract for the boat. He called the bank manager in Fagernes privately on Sunday morning at 11 o'clock, while he was frying eggs and bacon. And got the green light. The loan papers were arranged, and then the adventure was just beginning. First commuting between Stord and Valdres.

- I think the silence is good. I go to bed early. In winter, I may go to bed at 6-7. But then I get up at 4-5 o'clock. I love those hours before the light comes. Then everything is quiet. And the first streaks of light come over the horizon. I think it's wonderful. Photo: Øivind Sanden, Vaare

- I had a big house in Valdres, and thought "What do I do now?" Maybe I can take the boat and sail to southern Denmark and be there in the winter. I have a lot of anxiety in me about the ocean and things like that. There were a lot of boundaries within myself that had to be broken. One day I decided to. And my dream was six months in the boat, and six months in Valdres.

I've never been a fan of snow, I'm from Western Norway. One day I discovered how close I was to the Kieler Canal when I looked at the map. Then something happened in me. I found that I didn't need to go on the west side of Denmark, because it's a bit tough there. I can walk the Kieler Canal and stay along the European coast. Then the idea of ​​traveling to Istanbul and back again was born, says the 71-year-old.

14 solar panels and three windmills on the roof

Now a new chapter in Sanden's life awaits. The Mediterranean climate is over. Now harsh Norwegian conditions await with rain, snow, wind and cold off the coast of Stord.

- Part of the challenge now is insulation against winter cold. So I have received two large insulation rolls that I will now start working on. I will live here in the winter. So I get a radiator system on board. I also have to block the four front windows

- I've never taken a sailing course, but I took the boat driving test at the time. Then I raised the sail and began to see what was happening. Photo: Gunnar R. Larsen, ABC

when the boat is stationary, and insulate the sunroof to keep the heat. The windows are the biggest heat loss. Then I have to solve dew problems. I'm lucky enough to have a five centimeter window sill. There I can put three layers of insulating glass, which is 40 millimeters. It's projects like this that I hope postpone the dementia process for maybe six months, laughs the skipper.

On the roof, he has installed 14 solar panels and three windmills. This is how a former land crab lives who has chosen to get rid of household chores on land. This has major practical consequences.

- I'm looking at the batteries, if I can, I can boil coffee water on electricity today. Otherwise I use gas. You live in a completely different way here. I have three windmills, so I like wind. I have to get up to five or six knots before it charges. In the South I had four KW every day. I don't have that now. The further north I go, the less important the solar cells become, and the more important the wind turbines become. In addition, I have shore power. The radiator system has three heat sources, for the bathroom, guest cabin and wheelhouse. In addition, I have a diesel burner, shore power, and the boat engine that provides energy when it runs.

Soon back where it all began: - I had to free myself

The conversation is coming to an end. Birch wags his tail. He loves the sea air. The tail swings like a windmill. When they are both soon safely anchored outside Stord, a new life awaits on board Vaare. They will live there in all four seasons.

- When I docked in the Netherlands at the end of the journey, I reflected on waiting for one's soul. I had to free myself from everything that had happened on the trip. Not that I look at it negatively or forget it. It will always be a very important part of my life. But it became a buffer where I realized with all my heart that these are memories. And not a second after I had made that decision in Spain, I regretted it. Now I am ready to live in a new way.

Live a new life, still in the boat. But in a different way. Then I will focus on the close things, more than the big things. I'm going out fishing, so much that I'll be able to live on fish. So now I will sail back to my friends at Stord. They have cleared a berth for me before I go to my boathouse on Skjærsholmane. I want to end Sanden på Havet where it all began.

- One morning I woke up in northern Spain. Then it suddenly dawned on me. My cup of experience is full. I have fulfilled what I was supposed to, and well so. I'm full. I'm going home, says Øivind Sanden after the journey of his life. Here the schooner Vaare is docked at Hesthella at the far end of Vesterøya on Hvaler. Now awaits the last journey along the southern coast and home to the boathouse at Skjærsholmane in Stord. Photo: Gunnar R. Larsen, ABC News