Thursday, 19 December 2013

Searching for a boat

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Last week I took a flight to London and embarked the night train to Falmouth. In that way I didn't have to pay for a hotel. I arrived early morning. There was a lot of seagulls in the harbour. I felt fine for a while.

I met the broker and had a look at the boat, a Heard 28. It's a lot of hype around British built boats in Britain. After half an hour I had enough.

I walked around in Falmouth town for the rest of the day. I felt a cold coming and the seagulls was getting on my nerves.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

I took the night train back to London and again I saved money on not having a room. It was damn cold, or maybe it just felt so cold because I hadn't slept two nights in a row.

I walked around Paddington station. I kept drinking tea to keep my warmth. Later it got sunny but I was still freezing. I sent an email to Nina saying the boat was no good and that the cockpit looked like it was created by a drunk designer.

I took the tube to Victoria and walked around in the area. After an hour of this I returned to the airport. By now I was feeling really sick. I couldn't stand myself. 

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Thursday, 14 November 2013

Beige couple

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

There's an elderly couple in front of us. They're talking about her going to the hospital. Everything is going to be alright, he says.

She's silent for a while. Then she asks: why do I have the feeling that you are talking about the car? 

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Sunday, 10 November 2013

Brown horse, brown cow

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

We're walking into the green foliage. I have a feeling that Fatu Hiva is one of those destinations where no one really have been.

I suddenly want to get online but there's no such thing on the island. Why sail halfway around the world to go online?
I start to think about Thor Heyerdahl. He arrived on Fatu Hiva in 1937, hoping to escape civilization. But he didn't get along with the locals. Eventually he and his wife took shelter in a cave, anxious to get home.

Sunday, 3 November 2013

Selling, falling

Nina says she is loosing something of herself, selling our beloved little boat. Sure, it's been our home for the last ten years.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

But I've been struggling with sinusitis and whatnot the last months. Saturday I was coming fog- brained and miserable along the dock in the dark, and misjudging the distance I jumped right out in seemingly nothing before my chest hit the toerail. Nina dragged my out of the water and I had cracked a couple of ribs by the feel of it.

Monday, 30 September 2013


Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

After eating at a restaurant we're walking through the park in Suva. I'm feeling incredibly happy because I didn't have the fish. Then it suddenly strikes me: I've become an old worm.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Thursday, 5 September 2013


Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

I'm walking in downtown Apia, the only city on Samoa. It's a rather conservative place. Walking with a camera and tripod I get the feeling that most people view me as slightly insane.

But now it's festival week. I figure most people will take it for granted that I'm photographing the fire dancers.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

After eight years of travelling it's pretty clear that I'm not a good tourist. I'm almost never interested in the sights and events that's being presented.

Henrik Nor-Hansen

Sunday, 4 August 2013

Fear eats the soul

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

We often hear that sailing a 26 foot sailboat without an engine is brave indeed, but this is not even what I would call risk taking. 

I'm actually a rather nervous guy. And I'm back in Norway to sort out some health problems. It seems like the nasal spray for allergies involves steroids with severe side effects. 

Now the anxiety is really getting to me. I'm having feelings and sensations so cold that they can be taken for thoughts.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Monday, 29 July 2013

Lakeshore Loop

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

I kept coming back to this neighborhood in Wasilla, Alaska. Although it wasn't really a neighbor- hood. Not yet.

I've always been slightly afraid of old houses. I guess an old house is somewhat associated with the deceased.
But this was different. It was as if I felt uneasy about the future, and everything that will take place in the years to come.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

What kind of people will be living here? How many kids will grow up, and what kind of people will they become? What will their memories be?

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

Getting around

"Imagine that we could share each other. That would eventually mean less walking."

Sunday, 21 July 2013

At the bookstore

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

"I saw this beautiful woman at the bookstore, and afraid of being looked upon as too old I looked at her with disgust."

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Thursday, 18 July 2013

Vancouver in the dark

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

I still wonder why the Chinese were so afraid of me taking pictures. They ducked their heads as if they were dodging bullets. Or they picked up a phone, letting me discreetly know that steps were taken.

I kept riding. I had borrowed a bike from some friends and in the dark I could stop wearing that damn helmet. 

Sunday, 16 June 2013

Five leaves left

Unable to deal with people I turn to flowers and leaves. Then the flowers seem too pretty, or just too much, so I just stick with the leaves.

I'm not proud of this. Most people come to Tahiti to have a good time, but I'm dragging the camera and tripod through the thick foliage. It feels like I'm coming down with a fever.

Thursday, 23 May 2013

Angry man

Suddenly a man tore up the door and asked why the fuck I was taking pictures of his house. This was the first time I realized that my hobby might come across as slightly intimidating.

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

- It's only art, I said.

Then it was quiet for a while. I was a bit nervous. I could see him peering out in the dark, looking for clues.

- What art, he shouted flatly.
- l'art pour l'art, I answered.

Tuesday, 12 February 2013

La Paz, Mexico

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)

I had walked for hours under the blistering sun. Brown and sand colored dogs were sleeping in the dust. They looked like dead dogs.

Then it was getting dark and I walked into a loud crowd. A stranger offered me a shot of tequila. The noise made it difficult to hear. It somehow came across that I was driving.

We tried to speak for a while. I told him about our boat and said that it was maybe a month sailing to Marquesas. I could tell that he had no idea what I was talking about. I wanted to know everything about the crowd and the tall pointed hats, but didn't want to be perceived as too much of a tourist. 

Now that I've cut down on my drinking I've come to appreciate the alienated inebriation of ignorance. 

Henrik Nor-Hansen (photo)