I sail the world in a replica 10th-century Viking longboat

Until my retirement four years ago, I worked at an IT company, and on the side volunteered for the Oseberg Viking Heritage Foundation, in Tønsberg, Norway, which promotes Viking ships and handicrafts. I became chair in 2023.

With help from volunteers, the foundation started building the Saga Farmann ship in 2014: it’s a 20-metre-long replica of the Viking Klåstad ship, excavated in 1970 from a farmer’s field. Archaeologists figured out it was a trading ship from AD998.

To build the ship, we used traditional Viking methods: chopping wood from the forest with axes, and building with replica tools. Our blacksmith made thousands of rivets, one-by-one. It’s hard and slow, but we wanted to showcase how they did it.

Because it was a cargo ship, we decided to sail a Viking trading route, from Tønsberg to Istanbul, which they called Miklagard – “the great city” in Old Norse. It set off in April 2023; I joined two weeks in and was on board for around half of the 16-week voyage. Comfort is nonexistent on the ship. The crew of about 12 volunteers sleep on the deck, often in a tent to avoid getting wet. There is a cabin but it gets smelly quickly because seawater bilge causes rot. They join for a two-week stint – most have never seen the ship before. They start out as strangers then quickly become close.

It can be tough. That spring was cold. Some nights the temperature was freezing, and we would awake to ice on deck. We sailed up the Rhine and down the Danube rivers, where Vikings had travelled.

I learned how to sail on Viking ships years before the voyage, but most of the crew were learning from scratch. Viking ships don’t have a keel, and drift if you don’t know what you’re doing. The ropes are thick and heavy. It’s tough work and takes a lot of muscle. The best part is using techniques from 1,000 years ago, but the Vikings would laugh if they could see our incompetence.

One hot day, we sailed through a lightning storm, but because it’s a wooden boat, the bolts hit the sea instead. It was amazing seeing lightning all around and feeling rain on our toes. The water current was fast and it felt as if we were flying.

Crossing the Black Sea was a challenge. When we had the right conditions, we took our chance, setting off from south Bulgaria at 2am. A big wave breaking into the ship would have sunk us – but thankfully it was remarkably steady. If water enters a Viking ship, it must be pumped out immediately. We sailed for almost 24 hours continuously into the Bosphorus Strait, heading towards Istanbul, with the crew getting a four-hour sleep on a watch system. It wore us out, but, as it was the final stretch, spirits were high. Arriving in Istanbul, we saw the full moon over the city’s Bosphorus Bridge. Travelling 2,175 miles (3,500km) across Europe’s waterways and seas to Istanbul, as the Vikings had done centuries ago, was a moment to celebrate.

While moored in Turkey, we thought: why go back to the cold Nordics? We decided to keep going. Since then, we’ve taken two voyages – one a year – sailing around Croatia, Italy, through France and to the UK, keeping the boat in storage between trips.

After we arrived in Croatia on our second trip, we sailed into a small island off the coast, where our ship was greeted by about 40 small boats. We had dinner with the mayors of three islands over three days and felt like kings and queens. In London, Tower Bridge opened as we passed through with the wind in our sail. Crowds gathered to watch us go by.

This ship has brought all of us who’ve crewed it new friendships and showed me how generous people can be. I spend between six and eight weeks a year on board. The rest of the time, I manage the logistics for the next voyage with my team. I don’t want to bring the ship home until we have to. We’re going to keep sailing for as long as we can.

As told to Ella Hopkins

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