Jan Mayen Beerenberg Expedition About seasick mountaineers The world’s northernmost volcano is Norwegian. This is little known in Norway, since Beerenberg is situated at Jan Mayen, a small island in the Arctic Ocean. Anyway, we just had to get there. We did not have any maritime experience, but realised that the only way would be in a private sailboat. Arild, Frank, Odd and me started looking for a boat. We advertised at Internet and in sailing magazines, but found the perfect partner in our hometown, Ørsta. Petter had the experience we lacked, and “Symra”, a 47” Jeanneau was just beautiful. He was surprised when asked by strangers, but got into the idea once he realized the plan was serious. His friend Jørn was hired, and the team was complete. In the Arctic Ocean help is distant, so we bought sailing clothes, harnesses, survival suits, distress beacon, lifeboat and a mobile VHF-radio for communication from the mountain. The mountaineers feared that food and equipment would be to spacious, and was impressed when everything disappeared into “secret” rooms around the boat. –The first of many things to learn. Life at sea Our journey started in June from Norway’s west coast in calm, but rainy weather. We enjoyed pasta and red vine in the cabin. At midnight we left the fjords and met the ocean waves. - And Frank got sick… We hoped sea sick plaster would cure him, but he maintained a pale face for most of the trip. With no wind we were motoring, but in the middle of the night we came to a stop. –No Problem, Petter found a wetsuit in one of his secret rooms, and Jørn got an unpleasant dive, cutting ropes from the propeller. Then we had good wind for one day, but then it became dead calm. For days. Not what we expected on our way to a notorious windy island. No problem using the engine, but we had diesel for just half the way. Would be a shame spending our holiday floating around. At least we got good sights of numerous whales, including two orcas. And when the fuel tank was empty the wind came back, so we lost just one day. After crossing the polar circle the climate got colder, and we met the first snow showers together with the first sight of Jan Mayen, the sixth day. Warm welcome Jan Mayen has no harbours, and the coast is hostile. Anchoring is dependent of wind direction, but the Walrus Bay is often safe. We were met by old friends at the beach and were taken to an incredible welcome at the station, “Olonkin City”. The highlight was a cold beer in “Algae bay”, an outdoor swimming pool heated to 36 degrees by waste energy from the power plant. But the weather forecast was good, and the radiosonde from the Meteorological Station indicated that the clouds ended at 1400 meters. This is luxury at Jan Mayen, so we could not relax to long. We got a good night’s sleep before starting the climb. Above the clouds? Our balance was not to good after sailing for six days, but except from a rolling way of walking we felt in good shape. Starting the walk in the loose volcanic terrain was hard, and we experienced the rapid weather changes, which are typical for this island. The next hours we were navigating through cold wind, clouds and snow showers. But at Crown Prince Olav’s Glacier, we got merrier. We made shadows! A little later we popped out of the clouds, and were alone with Beerenberg against blue sky! The clear arctic air made the summit look close, but we knew there were many hours to go. Further up we met crevasses, so better use rope and harnesses. We were prepared for cold, but now it felt like a desert. No wind, burning sun and snow like wet sugar. We dragged ourselves along huge crevasses to the summit ridge. Knowing the highest top, Haakon VII Toppen was last climbed in 1942 motivated us. The summit Fortunately the summit threw a shadow, so the snow was frozen at the final, steep five hundred meters. We meet more clouds, but when above then the summit was close. We were exhausted, but finally we reached the crater rim. We dropped our packs and climbed to the highest top. The view from this narrow peak was breathtaking! The crater is one kilometre across, three hundred meters deep and surrounded by a narrow ridge. The midnight sun was shining through the opening where the Weyprecht Glacier starts its long journey into the ocean. Except from the crater we looked down at clouds in all directions. We climbed down from the summit and found a rather safe campsite at the crater rim. At night temperature went ten below, and a cold wind was shaking the tent, but with the four of us packed like sardines in the small tent we kept warm. Crater promenade! We woke up to more sun, with a few clouds far underneath. Had a good laugh when realizing we slept at an active volcano at Friday the thirteenth. Now we could benefit from the hard work! Just incredible walking the crater rim as it got narrower into unclimbed areas to the north. The northern, snowy ridge of the Charcot Toppen just made place for putting one foot after the other. Not to difficult, but our balance was not to good after sailing, so I was careful while balancing down with the crater at one side and the ocean at the other. Now we reached the ridge's lowest point . Thought about climbing the last part around the crater, but we felt very satisfied, and we also knew we were out of reach in case of a rescue. We returned to the icefall and took the normal route down, along the landmark Nunataken. More crevasses, but easier walking. Walking down the endless Crown Prince Olav’s Glacier was a test of patience, so we were almost satisfied by the clouds the first day. Tourism Finally down again Dag from the station met us, and soon after we found ourselves in "Algae Bay", with a cold beer. Had a pleasant reunion with Petter and Jørn who came over the mountains at South-Jan. We spent the night in the stations bar, and Sunday was spent eating waffles at the met station and thereafter sightseeing with Vidar, Jan Terje, Ulf and Anne from the station. We drove four-wheel to historical places, like remains from the whaling period and the first Meteorological station. Had a look at Eggøya, (Egg Island) which is no longer an island, since eruptions in the 18-century filled the ocean and made a lagoon. At Eggøya there is still fumaroles, and there is never snow. Around Beerenberg The weather was even better the next day, so when some of the crew met us in Walrus Bay, they were cracking jokes about us spending all their good weather. Now it was our turn to show hospitality. We brought them around Beerenberg at completely calm sea. Gazed at the Weyprecht Glacier where it surges into the ocean 70 metres high and one kilometre wide. Studied the Nylandet, created by the eruption in 1970, and watched numerous bird cliffs. Served lunch while arctic birds wimbled around us. In clear air it was hard to believe the summit being almost 2300 meters high. Going home We got to the station late at night. Bid farewell before heading home. Beerenberg towered above the horizon until dark clouds covered the mountain next morning. The good weather ended, and we got gale straight against us. For us rookies it was quite exhausting to cross slowly southward, up against the growing waves. Even thou we had some hard times, it was impressing to learn how reliable a sailing boat is. Where a motorboat of same size would be hard to steer, Symra was cutting steady through the waves. –But I guess it will never be comfortably… Luckily, the wind changed to a better direction the third day, until it finally calmed down. After six days the mountains of western Norway came out of the mist, and we sailed into the fjords to a nice welcome in Ørsta. | 
