Vagar, Faroe Islands
Wick to Vagar.
Vagar, Faroe Islands
Day 7. 28th June 2014. Wick to Vagar. 373 miles 3:18hrs
Day score 10.
Ok, paid fees and filed flight plans with Andy. I pushed the plane around the corner of the hangar out the wind to prepare. It was still quite a head wind up to the Shetlands but then as I turned out to the Faroes it might even become a tail wind. On with insulation layers under my apparently useless dry immersion suit, call it what you will. Caking my pants now actually. Supposed to be fun but this certainly isn’t. A bit of a squeeze in the immersion suit as well.
I taxied out after a Cessna Citation jet, also heading for America. Once the runway was cleared I entered it and took off. There was John O’Groats and Duncansby Lighthouse as I left the mainland. I wanted to go out via the Shetland to get a feel for the flying over water bit and in case of more engine troubles, At the Shetland Isles, that was it. I had to turn out for Vagar, the island in the group of Faroe Isles with the airport on it. My 5,000ft cruise height was a pain as that was where all the cloud was. But a helicopter was above the thin layer of cloud and coming the other way. After the Shetland controller, who had us both on his radar, told the helicopter he had passed behind me now, he descended and I climbed. When I poked out the top of the cotton wool cloud, shriek, my wings were covered in ice. I learnt all about ice formation in my commercial pilot training and it can be bad news, but I’ve never seen any before and never wanted or expected to see it on Itzy. The kit plane didn’t seem to mind a bit though and it soon melted.
I was handed over to Reykjavik control some 100 miles from the Shetlands. The radio was still fine and clear and the transponder was still working in range to. This was good as they had only been installed last week and I had hardly tested them. Brill. I didn’t feel alone. The Shetland radio guy had been calling me every 15 mins for a progress report. Above the cloud was peaceful and tranquil, only occasionally did I look down through it and see the white horses of the cold foreboding North Atlantic. Amazingly soon it was time to drop down below the thin layers of cloud into an amazing scene of black rock of the Faroe Isles jumping thousands of feet out of the sea. I had to watch it as these Faroe Isle Mountains went back up into the wispy broken cloud I’d just come down through… There’s the runway, right where I had expected and the GPS had told me. I was cleared to land, flew up the fjord and dropped it on the tarmac. I taxied in and jumped out, finding it difficult to believe, as everyone else did who came to se me arrive that, I’m on Vagar…
Customs and immigration was a breeze. The airport has a new terminal next to the old, only been open one week and everyone will still getting used to it. The hotel was full, high season, but one of the young security guards called Rooney, said I could stay in a flat his Gran owned and rented out, much cheaper than the hotel as well. Everyone speaks good English and Rooney drove me to his Gran’s flat, over looking the sea and fjord in the town of Sorvagur underneath the end of the extended runway. Left to explore this 150 year old wooden and tin shack of a house it was an extreme mix of old and new. Gosh the electrics were old. This was probably a fisherman’s house. It was lovely though. A took a well deserved shower and more computing. The TV internet I couldn’t get to work. There were some very interesting DVD’s in the draw, mostly Danish but just for some back ground noise, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, saved the day, before sleep…
Thought for the day: I’m on Vagar. I’ve certainly left and that flight went well over the water. Wow… I’m excited I’m now properly underway.