My experience cruising the Norwegian coast: Fjords and midnight sunsets

With no casino, shows, spa or dress-up night, the scenery is the star of every single day on a Havila Coastal Voyage up the coast of Norway.

Each day brings a surprising amount of variety, as the landscape changes and excursions take passengers on short forays inland. My favorite part of every single day on board the Havila Castor was watching late-night sunsets from the jacuzzi, while sipping prosecco.

(You know what wasn’t a highlight? Seeing the Northern Lights. Know why? Because it has to get dark out to see the Northern Lights, and it does not get dark out in most of Norway in July! Summer = midnight sun, not northern lights.)

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What it’s like to cruise of Norway’s coast on a Havila Coastal Voyage: Day by day Havila travelogue

Our Havila cruise sailed north from Bergen to Kirkenes in seven days. Day-to-day life aboard the Havila Castor was peaceful and yet always interesting. The 24/7 daylight led us to stay up late at night, and sometimes sleep late in the morning.

Day 1: North from Bergen

Embarkation day on the Havila Castor (for us, Sunday, July 2) was all about the bustle of boarding, checking out our cute and comfortable cabin and enjoying our first meal at the Havrand restaurant. We left our luggage at our Bergen hotel in the morning, then brought it to the Havila terminal at check-in time.

For most passengers, the sailaway from Bergen was probably also a highlight, but we accidentally missed that because we were seated in the restaurant when the ship left the terminal.

As we headed seaward through a series of inlets from Bergen, low-lying green islands flanked both sides of the ship, with some gentle hills. We ended Day 1 with what became our every-night tradition on board the Castor: In the jacuzzi with plastic glasses of champagne, purchased from the Deck 8 outdoor bar, sold by the ship sommelier, Antoine.

Day 2: Florø-Ålesund-Geiranger-Molde

We slept through 15-minute stops in the towns of Florø (the Westernmost town in Scandinavia) and Måløy. Upon waking at 8:30 a.m. I saw my first port town, Torvik, from the cabin window: red barns, yellow farmhouses, grazing black and white sheep, and what looked like a single trim fishing junk bobbing on the water.

Later, we caught just a glance at Ålesund, the city where Havila offers an excursion kayaking through town — but, alas, only in winter, spring and fall. In summer, instead of spending time docked in Ålesund, Havila switches to battery power silently glides into Geiranger Fjord. I asked the crew if I could disembark at Ålesund for just a few minutes, but they explained that through passengers don’t get to disembark for stops under half an hour.

Since I had slept through breakfast, I had a cold waffle with jam from the cafe. There aren’t a ton of breakfast items available there; mostly just pastries. I helped myself to pretty good, strong coffee from the machine on the other side of Deck 6. (Havila has been tinkering with its policies on charging for food from the cafe and for coffee onboard. When I sailed, both were free, but I think this has changed.)

The view kicked up a notch as we entered Geirangerfjord. Pyramid-shaped islands that reminded me of Thailand started popping up. Soon tree-covered slopes flanked both sides of the ship. Here and there, a tiny Norwegian village nestled in a sliver of valley. Although these isolated communities must have been connected to civilization — we even saw a couple of parked cars at one farmhouse — from our vantage point we couldn’t see the roads. Waterfalls veined the cliffs.

We saw our first salmon farm: it looked like giant hula hoops on the surface of the water. It began to rain around midday, which did not bode well for the eight-hour scenic bus ride we’d booked. At points, the fjord narrowed so that we almost felt we were going through a tunnel.

Through all this, heavy gray clouds pressed down upon the hills, lending an air of drama to the scene.

When we reached Geiranger, my family disembarked for our eight-hour Geirangerfjord & Trollstigen sightseeing bus excursion. When we returned to the ship post-excursion, in the port of Molde, I stood on deck to check out this surpringly modern-looking city I’d never heard of, and to appreciate the pinkening sky just beyond the hill backing the city.

I noticed a family — Dad, Mom, a boy and a girl — who must have stopped just to watch the cruise ship. (At first I thought they’d just disembarked, but they didn’t have any luggage.) I ended up watching the little family for at least 10 minutes as the ship pulled out of the harbor. They were walking through town along the waterfront, and they’d disappear behind a building, and just when I thought I’d lost them, oop, they’d pop up again. I even used my binoculars? Creepy? Sure! Entertaining? Quite.

It was around 11 p.m. by then, but we were happy to learn that the indoor bar stays open until midnight, so we could acquire the prosecco we needed for the hot tub.

Day 3: Kristiansund-Trondheim-Rørvik

I slept through our 2:45 a.m. stop in Kristiansund. But we did see this adorable tiny island as we headed into another fjord to dock at Trondheim:

In Trondheim, we disembarked for Havila’s vintage tram excursion. After re-boarding in Trondheim at about 12:40 p.m., we ran up on deck to watch the sail-away. After missing the initial sail-away, I was determined to witness as many port arrivals and departures as I could. This time, we saw heavily forested hills with scatterings of farms in green clearings, and several tiny isolated lighthouses on islands.

Late in the afternoon, low mountains of bare rock with only thin patches of green replaced the tree-covered hills. I was thrilled to receive a message from a Norwegian relative, Marit. She said she and her family would be able to meet us in Tromsø!

Trondheim is the only opportunity to disembark on Day 3, which left us with half the day “at sea” (although always in view of the coast). I was grateful for some quiet time with my journal, after the busy embarkation day followed by two excursions in two days. However, the crew did break up the long afternoon for us.

At around 3 p.m., Askjay, the excursion director, called us to Deck 6 to see the Kjeungskjaer Lighthouse and to sample the mussels served in the restaurant. As we passed the lighthouse, Askjay told us, first in English then in German, how the lighthouse keeper and his family would live there in isolation for up to 20 years at a time. When a family with children lived there, a teacher would join them. When it stormed, Mrs. Lighthouse-keeper had to make sure to plug up the sink, or seawater would flood the kitchen.

As afternoon turned to evening, what had started as tiny slivers of blue developed into big patches of cloudless sky. This was the night we upgraded our meal to the fancy restaurant, Hildring, where all the tables have a window, and we enjoyed watching the sky clear up as we slowly enjoyed our courses.

It was Independence Day, which of course meant nothing in Norway, so we celebrated Toth’s 14th birthday a week early instead. By the time our dinner ended, the sun low in the sky at around 10 p.m., we saw more blue than clouds.

We passed under a large bridge and came to Rørvik, which looked like a perfect blend of modern city and quaint village.

After 11 p.m., we experienced the most spectacular sunset of the trip — from the hot tub, of course.

Day 4: Brønnøysund-Sandnessjøen-Nesna-Bodø-Svolvær 

I had planned to wake up at 3:30 a.m., between Brønnøysund and Sandnessjøen, to see the ship pass near Visthus, where my Great Grandma Ulrikke Jensen had lived. However, I accidentally set my alarm for 3:30 p.m. I woke up on my own at around 4:15 a.m., and went up to the deserted viewing area. But by then we had already passed by the fjord that led to Visthus. We were now heading toward Sandnessjøen, some 30 miles north. Still, I looked at the small farms hugging the coast, backed by rounded hills covered in closely-packed fir trees, and told myself that Grandma’s farm probably looked a lot like that.

In Sandnessjøen, one lonely car sat in the port parking lot, and two people sat on a bench with a couple of suitcases, waiting for the boat. Since I was up, I decided to watch for Great Grandpa Peder Jensen’s farm, known as Velsvåg, in about an hour. I tried not to bother the lone crew member, a young woman with a blond ponytail, who was vaccuuming the empty lounge.

The mountains briefly turned jagged, all rock with no green, then softened and once again broke out in trees. As we approached the Velsvåg area, I saw my first patches of snow. It was July 5. Here there was very little flat land at the seashore, but tiny farms clung to what land there was.

Knowing what a great country Norway is today, sometimes I’ve wondered why my great grandparents left in the first place. Seeing this beautiful but austere place, I now understood how hard it must have been for my great grandfather’s family to eke out a living. I remembered hearing about how Great-Grandpa’s father had died, and how teen-aged Great-Grandpa had taken over for 10 years, before emigrating.

At around 6 a.m., we docked in Nesna, a picturesque town wedged between a tree-covered mountain and the sea. Nesna had straight roads with no sidewalks and a tidy little marina. Later, a cousin told me that Great-Grandpa had likely embarked from right here when he traveled to America. Of course the place has changed since the early 1900s, but I’m still glad I now have a picture in my mind of Nesna, Norway. After watching the crew on deck below me throw the ropes down to the waiting dock worker, I went back to our cabin and woke up Toth so we could watch a forklift unload boxes from the ship into a small building on the dock, then load other boxes onto the ship. The loading door was very near our cabin, which made for prime viewing. (I’ve heard other passengers say it’s noisy to be near the cargo area, but it never woke us.)

Passing so close to the farms where my great grandparents grew up without being able to stop and look around filled me with longing that led me to plan a whole other trip! Two years later, my parents, son and I returned to Norway to complete the heritage trip we’d begun with our Havila cruise. We ended driving through some of the same terrain we’d seen from the ship, staying on land that was once part of my great grandmother’s father’s farm in Visthus, and touring Velsvåg with a relative we didn’t know existed at the time of our cruise!

I went back to bed, and awoke a few hours later to taller mountains. Midmorning, Askjay invited us all to Deck 8 for an Arctic Circle crossing ceremony. They had a crew member come out dressed as Njörðr, who Askjay described as “the god at sea up here.” Njörðr showed up with a silly wig (that conveniently hid most of his face so he wouldn’t be recognized) and announced himself first in English, then in German (but not in Norwegian). Then the crew put a ladleful of ice and water down the collar of anyone who was willing to receive it, and handed out small shots of something like a bloody mary, but with akavit. Erik and I, knowing that there would be ice water, wore our bathing suits to this ceremony and jumped in the hot tub right after. When they were done dumping little scoops of ice water on passengers, they hazed the newest crew member by dumping the whole bucket on him. He took it well.

As we continued north, the coast become more and more exotic, with naked boulders bordering the sea and tiny islands popping up everywhere. I attended the daily lecture, where Askjay recapped the day, including showing Erik’s photo, then told us all about the fishing area of Lofoten, which we were now heading into. That night on Deck 8, the bar sold spiked warm apple juice in Havila souvenir mugs, and of course we bought one.

Just before midnight, we passed a few high rock peaks absolutely covered in snow, making us feel that we were truly in the Arctic now.

After midnight, we entered Trollfjord, the absolute highlight of the trip, which I described in a previous post.

Ports: We had no excursion scheduled on Day 4, but we explored the city of Bodø on our own. It was nice to finally get off the ship with no itinerary, and do a little shopping. We visited a beer shop and a pharmacy, as well as an ice cream shop. We admired a little public art in Bodø, and stopped at the tourist info office, but in general it was not a very exciting town. Tip: If you’re looking for a public restroom like I was, stop at the library.

After 9 p.m., we arrived at Svolvær, which was my favorite port of the entire trip. We were now in the Lofoten archipelago, an important fishing area and now also an adventure tourism destination. Only Toth and I disembarked, and I instantly wished we were staying here to head out on a backpacking or kayaking adventure. The town had only a few streets before sawtooth mountains, shrouded in mist, took over.

Wooden drying racks stood to show how stockfish were caught and dried by the thousands here during the years that the Hanseatic League bought and sold them in Bergen. Toth noticed a seagull flying up into the air and dropping sea urchins into the road to crack them open. We dragged our feet back to the ship just before the crew closed the door.

In my next post, I’ll share about Days 5 through 7 of the cruise, when we meet our relatives in Tromsø, see reindeer, meet a Sami family and — finally — find a state-run liquor store. (Note: Officially, you are not allowed to bring your own alcohol onto Havila ships. But the crew doesn’t check your bags as you board at any port, nor does housekeeping check your cabin for alcohol.)

Day 5: Stokmarknes-Tromsø-Skjervoy

On the afternoon of the fifth day, we actually sunbathed on Castor’s deck for a few minutes. But then the wind picked up, forcing me to put my fleece back on. On this evening, excursions director Askjay announced that whales could be spotted on either side of the ship. Mom and I were out on deck at the time. We rushed to one side and looked, and looked … and looked. We never spotted so much as a water spout. But Erik and Toth later told me they saw at least one whale through our cabin window.

Finnsnes

Ports: Recovering from our late-night venture into Trollfjord, we slept through four quick ports in the early hours before quickly jumping off at Finnsnes at 11 a.m.

I don’t remember much about Finnsnes, except that I took a photo of this statue. This dude was apparently of a chieftan named Ottar, who visited King Alfred of England in the 9th century. He may have been the first person to refer to this country as “Norge” in the rest of Europe. “Norge” basically means “up North.” Also, Finnsnes has tons of trees.

In the afternoon, we disembarked at the port we were most looking forward to, because we were meeting relatives there: Tromsø. As we disembarked, the skies, which had been partly sunny in the morning, suddenly clouded over. The first thing we noticed: Seagulls mob Tromso. They’re sitting on every roof line, every statue, boisterously making themselves heard.

We met Marit, her husband Anders and their son Jonas, had coffee and beer, and talked for quite awhile. I took notes as I learned things we had not known about Great Grandma Jensen’s family. (The most exciting news, to my parents: My father’s great-uncle belonged to the resistance in WWII. The most exciting news, to me: The house where my great grandmother grew up is now a vacation rental. I immediately began planning our next trip, to stay there!)

Then our relatives walked us around Tromsø, which is such a sweet little town, with a lot of interesting statues and art. They pointed out the adorable little church in the middle of town, where they had gotten married. Jonas and Toth are about a year apart in age, and they walked together, talking about their respective schools and, of course, video games. While we were walking around, the sky cleared to a brilliant blue, and everything looked even prettier.

Tromsø is on a smaller island between two larger islands. Marit pointed out Tromsdalen, the suburb just across the water, where a modern church shaped like a big white triangle stood. That was where they live, and that is their church, she told us. They had bicycled to meet us — I guess they took a ferry across the water? We didn’t think to ask.

They did tell us about their plans for the rest of the week, which was vacation time for them: They were driving down to my great-grandma’s (and her grandfather’s) village, Visthus, the same area we’d passed on the ship in the middle of the previous night. The 500-mile drive would take them more than 12 hours — and they had to time it carefully in order to make several car ferries along the way. We began to understand why all these little towns have their own airstrips. We asked if they ever took one of these ships to travel domestically instead, since they are also working ferries. They said no — too slow and too expensive.

We really got on well with the whole family. Although this was a four-hour stop, it went by in a flash. Back on the ship, I stood on deck and watched Tromsø and Tromsdalen float away from us. With the sun kissing everything, it was perhaps the second most beautiful moment of the trip, after Trollfjord. The saturated colors, the iconic church … I drank it all in, took zero photos, and enjoyed the moment. (OK, I admit this is because I had just left my phone in the cabin accidentally, but still.)

Day 6: Øksfjord-Honningsvåg-Berlevåg 

Suddenly it was our last full day on the Havila Castor. I realized with shock that I hadn’t even unpacked the travel Scrabble set. We just didnt’ feel like we had downtime for playing a game! It felt we were always doing something, whether it was eating another delicious Havila meal, rushing outside to look at something cool, or heading out to explore a port. Today, we officially turned the corner on Norway, and began heading east rather than north.

The crew provided us with our bill, showing all the extras we’d ordered, like the drinks package, the one-night upgrade to the fancy Hildring restaurant, any drinks that weren’t ordered through the drinks package, purchases in the shop, etc. I found a few errors — like a few drinks that were charged separately instead of on the drinks package. Once or twice when we’d been charged separately for mixer and liquor, which increased the price of the cocktail. I got those removed from the bill, but not without several round trips from the reception desk to the bar to the restaurant. It seems there was a little confusion about who was authorized to remove which charges. However, all the staff members were kind and friendly while sending me on these rounds.

The sun played peek-a-boo with us again, shining most of the day, then suddenly disappearing as if a great gray curtain had just fallen over the sky. Just before we pulled into the harbor of Kjøllefjord, we saw Finnkirka, which the crew referred to as a Sami cathedral.

Besides being a sacred Sami site, apparently this rock formation is a place where all kinds of sailors have made offerings for safe passage. (I didn’t know that “Finn” is an old Norwegian term for the Sami people! It may be related to the root of our English word “find,” as a reference to the Sami being hunter-gatherers. I also read that the term is today considered inappropriate or even offensive in some contexts.)

The first rough seas of the trip began rocking the ship. Great gushes of water flew out of the jacuzzis, swamping the deck. Erik felt seasick, and I did a little, but I put on a scopalamine patch, which helped. So did lying down.

At around 11 p.m., as we headed into the port of Berlevåg, some fellow passengers pointed out puffins skimming the water. I wish I’d had my binoculars handy, because they are small and I could barely see them. But you can make them out in the photo.

Ports: We disembarked at Honningsvåg from 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.

Erik, Toth and I admired a statue of a WWII canine hero, Bamse. We bought some postcards, stopped at the tourist office for advice on where to take a short hike, then walked up to the hiking trail through a neighborhood, admiring gardens and their hand-labeled mailboxes.

We had to hike pretty briskly, because we wanted to eat lunch during our regular reservation back on board.

After admiring the view from the hill, we hurried back to Havila Castor, ate our final lunch of the cruise, then disembarked again to visit the Honningsvåg Nordkap museum. We couldn’t tell by looking around, but Honningsvåg is on a large island, Mageroya, situationed north of the northern coast. Nordkap, the official northernmost point of Europe, is at the top of the island, about 15 miles north of us. We were skipping the excursion to Nordkap, since it looked cold and windy.

At the museum, we also learned a lot of WWII history. Apparently this village greatly as the Nazis fought Russia, and at some point the whole town was evacuated.

Later that evening, I went out on deck to look at Berlevåg, where we were not allowed to disembark. I saw a four-wheeler drive down the long road to the port, then park facing our ship. As the crew threw down the ropes to the waiting port worker to secure the ship, a car showed up, and parked right next to the four-wheeler. The car window rolled down, and the two drivers talked as they sat and looked at our ship. Clearly our arrival was the big event of a Friday night in Berlevåg. I like thinking about those two friends meeting — in their separate vehicles — to watch the ship come in. Did they do this every night? I’ll never know.

After our visit, the bus brought us to another cute tiny village, Mehamn (with its own airstrip) to join the ship at about 7 p.m.

Day 7: Båtsfjord-Vardo-Kirkenes

I started the final day of the trip in the hot tub, just after midnight. At first I thought I would break my every-night tradition of ending the day in the jacuzzi, because the tubs had lost so much water in the rough seas. But I found that they had refilled and felt warm enough, so I went in all alone. It was funny to feel the water sloshing around me as the boat moved. Now that we were so far north, the “sunset” was just happening now, after midnight. Changing into my jammies in the sauna room so late at night, on a deserted ship, felt a little vulnerable. Indeed it probably wasn’t the safest thing for a woman to do, but fortunately no one showed up to bother me.

After drying off, I didn’t go to bed. Instead I grabbed my jacket and headed to the ship door on Deck 4, because we were just heading into Båtsfjord, which was supposed to be a 30-minute stop. I found one older couple waiting with their luggage to disembark. I asked the sole crew member working if I could get off too. She was not thrilled about it, and said I could go out for only about 10 minutes, while she waited for a passenger who was supposed to board here. She asked me not to leave the dock area. I took a few steps this way and that, looking at the few buildings under the midnight sun. There wasn’t much to see, so I returned to the ship, and the crew member closed the door immediately. She explained that she’d been wrong; the passenger would be waiting at the next stop.

I went to bed for a couple hours, enjoying the feeling of being rocked by rough seas. At 3 a.m., I threw my fleece on over my pajamas and headed out on deck to see the port of Vardo. I wished there had been time to disembark here, because a good friend of mine had told me about the Steilneset Memorial, aka the “Witches’ Memorial,” a monument and art installation dedicated to 91 people burned as witches here in the 1600s. I had already asked a crew member if you could see the monument from the ship, and had been told no, but I still wanted to try to catch a glimpse. In photos, the monument was clearly by the sea — and how big could this town be?

Th first thing I saw of Vardo was a lonely white lighthouse on a long flat rock. The town was made of close-set, colorful wooden houses, all with perfectly straight lines and white window trim. One red barn was decorated with white whale drawings, facing the sea for visitors like me to enjoy. A white church with a high, steep facade stood at one end of town. On a ridge stood four mysterious white globes. I later learned that these are radar buildings, because Vardo, positioned on the eastern extremety of the cock’s comb crowning Norway, is a defense station, directly in Russia’s line of sight. The loudest gang of seagulls I have ever heard swooped around the buildings, screaming their lungs out in an eerie chorus under the blue 3 a.m. sky. How anyone sleeps in that town in beyond me. They must have nightmares.

On the dock, eight people on bicycles waited for the boat, apparently just to get a look. This gave me the impression that not much else happens in Vardo. The town had the desolate, picturesque feel of a remote location in a sadly beautiful movie. And yet, just beyond the port building, the sign for an apotek (pharmacy) reminded me that the people who lived here were in their way ordinary Norwegians, not some artisticly tragic characters.

Once the Castor stopped in the harbor, I understood how the monument could have been on the sea, yet invisible to me here at the dock. The town is on a long skinny island, with water on both sides. I believe the harbor was across the island from the monument. So my pre-cruise idea of running over to see the monument from the ship would never had worked, even if they would have let me off during a 15-minute stop. Apparently the ship stops in Vardo for an hour on the southward journey, so I now hope to someday take the trip in that direction, with my friend along, so we can check out that monument together.

After a night interrupted by several port stops, we had to be out of our cabin at 8. Vacating that early felt wrenching, both emotionally and physically, since we felt so at home in our cabin now — and had gotten used to sleeping late.

Then we went to breakfast, ordering more food than usual since this was our final meal here. We said goodbye to Vikram, our favorite waiter.

The ship docked in Kirkenes as we ate, but we weren’t required to leave until shortly before its 12:30 p.m. departure. The crew was bustling around preparing for the new passengers; setting up the tables where people would book their dinner reservations, etc.

From the deck, we believed we could see the Airbnb where we’d be staying, a house perched on a bluff facing the sea. Erik and I decided to disembark to walk to it, in order to figure out if Dad would be able to make the walk later, or if we’d need to get a taxi.

At around 9:30 a.m., in Kirkenes, Erik and I left the ship without our luggage, in order to scope out the situation in advance of my parents disembarking. As we walked away from the ship, we saw Askjay, the excursions director, as well as Champ, another waiter we’d liked a lot. We were grateful for the chance to say goodbye to both of them.

We walked to our Airbnb, determining that the hike would be too steep and long for Dad. On the way back to the ship we stopped at Andersgrotta, a WWII bomb shelter, and the tourist info office. Those stops helped us come up with a plan for our half day in Kirkenes. We returned to the ship, rejoined the family, gathered our luggage, chugged one last free coffee, and make our final disembarkation from the Castor.

After your Havila cruise

We opted to stay overnight in Kirkenes, and I’m very glad we did! The Kirkenes Snow Hotel is worth seeing! We also loved just hanging around the arctic town and talking to people.

After arriving in Kirkenes, people either return to Bergen on the ship or fly on to another city. We chose to fly to Oslo the day after our cruise ended. Then we stayed overnight in my favorite Oslo hotel, the Scandic Byporten, before flying back to the United States the next day.

When I first signed up to take a seven-day cruise, I wondered if being on a ship that long would make me stir crazy. Reality turned out to be the opposite! Walking down the ramp for the last time, we felt bereft, as if we were being evicted. Once in our Airbnb, which had a distant view of the harbor, we looked back at the Castor nostalgically. We used to live there. We already missed the crew — not to mention being cooked for and having new scenery to look at every time we looked up. Now that I have taken a Havila Coastal Voyage, I can’t wait to do it again — next time from North to South.

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