Jill Grigoleit
· 21.07.2026
An article by Hannah Hoven
I insulate the structure and stuff every gap with bubble wrap. In November and December, the temperature stays below minus 10 degrees, with a few exceptions. At times, it even drops to minus 15 degrees. The fan heater is running at full blast, but it’s still cold on board.
Our degree programme’s Christmas party, the Julebord, takes place in December. After weeks of wearing practical clothes, I rummage deep into my small wardrobe. I feel for the trouser suit and give it a tug. It doesn’t budge. I pull harder. With a jolt, it comes loose from the side of the cupboard, to which it had frozen solid. As I’m already running late anyway, I simply put the suit on despite the lumps of ice and set off on my bike. Grinning, I sit amongst my fellow students in their dresses and suits. The ice is melting. The wet linen fabric sticks to my shoulder.
A cloud of steam rises as I pour the kettle into the small sink. I’ve only just got home and have switched on the fan heater. I’ll keep my jacket on for now. Washing up yesterday’s dishes is a welcome task. The warm water flows around my cold fingers. Yesterday, the five of us sat round the coffee table. I love having people round. Not just because it’s warmer than being on my own, but because it’s so cosy. But I’m just as happy to accept invitations ashore, and sometimes I bring my laundry bag with me, as there are neither reliable showers nor a washing machine at the harbour. Fortunately, there is a water connection that works even in winter. So life on a boat brings a bit of adventure to my everyday university life. And there’s one thing I’ve learnt this Norwegian winter: never go to bed without an electric blanket.
To be continued: In the third part of the story, Hannah sets off on a summer sailing trip to the Lofoten Islands with her “Lilja”.

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