Matthew in Norway: What it feels like to be in the abyss.

I woke up this morning to dense thick fog clouding everything everywhere outside. I couldn’t even see the front yard from the house window. I was expecting the sun to dry it away once daylight hit like it happens in California, but to my great surprise, that event never occurred!

The fog stuck around all day. I’m sure today was old news about winter weather for Bergen citizens, but not for me. I was enthused by it all day long, just like I was when the ice crystals infested a few weeks ago. I had to see what it was like to be out on the boat during the little bit of daylight that we had.

As you might have watched in the video I posted on Facebook, you couldn’t see more than 100 meters in any direction. If the Blair Witch Project was filmed at sea, it would have been in those conditions. The entire time I was out there, I only saw one sign of living humans in the form of a boat puttering slowly and cautiously through the hazy expanse. I saw them, but not so sure that they saw me or the little brown row boat.

I had been traveling close enough to the rocky islands to know where I was at all times. If you didn’t know the area well, then getting lost would have been an avoidable mistake. I didn’t even consider the possibility of getting lost because I do know the area well enough. But I did learn that knowing where we are at brings a great sense of security, whether we are conscious of it or not.

I was enjoying the beauty of the sea. It was tranquil, peaceful and calm, not creepy. That is, before I rowed out into the middle of the large bay where I couldn’t see anything but silent white fog. This caused my sense of sight to no longer be of any use. I was too far from any land to even make out a faint silhouette. I let my imagination go and suddenly realized how eerie the conditions could be.

I had a playful shivering feeling at that moment.

What if you didn’t know where you were at on the sea that day? You would feel completely alone, not knowing how long you would have to row until you would again met land. The feeling would be so strong that rowing one time would feel like rowing a thousand times, and rowing a thousand times would feel like rowing one time. You could stand up on the boat, look all around you and still see nothing. Your eyes could try to focus on something, anything, but would only fail. You didn’t know before, but when you don’t have anything to focus on, then a little piece of your orientation leaves you. I’m sure if it was a real situation, a little piece of your sanity might leave you as well.

It was a fantastic moment that I hope never presents itself to me seriously.