Millions and millions of stars above the old lighthouse

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

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At 7 p.m. we look outside and see the full moon rising over the small fishing harbor. I grab the camera and leave Terra Love with Ajaci. “Fantastic,” I say, pressing the shutter release as the moon rises into a cloudless sky in brilliant light. “Let’s go to the houses at the harbor,” I say to Ajaci, who responds with a vigorous tail wag and a soft squeak. Although hardly anyone seems to live here, each of the houses is illuminated. We walk through an unreal picture book world. As if to win a competition, the green lawn in front of every property, large or small, is neatly trimmed. Warm light shines through the windows and illuminates the starry night. Two hours later I start to feel cold, so I go back to Terra to get warmer. “You’ve been away for a long time,” says Tanja, who is already lying in bed reading. “It’s awesome out there. An indescribably great atmosphere and I think I’ve seen the first gentle northern lights,” I enthuse, putting on a warm jacket and a hat. Then I leave Terra again with Ajaci. “Let’s go to the old lighthouse,” I suggest to my dog, to which I get another enthusiastic tail wag. Shortly afterwards, we creep along the iron base of the tower. I look out over the wide bay and briefly think of the 30 fishermen who died here in a storm in 1831. This is certainly one of the reasons why the lighthouse was built years after the devastating disaster and now guides fishermen and ships safely with its beam of fire. I set up the tripod, click the camera onto it, set the exposure time to 10 seconds and take a few photos. Millions and millions of glittering dots of stars cover the firmament. A green aurora film covers it like a filter. At regular intervals, the top of the lighthouse fires a glistening beam of light that breaks the blackness of the night over the northern European Arctic Ocean. “Tanja should see that,” I whisper. Ajaci confirms this with a soft whimper. We walk on to find a new position for the hunt for the northern lights. “Shit!”, I curse as I trip over an iron bar in the dark and almost drop the camera. Only in the beam of light from my downward-facing headlamp do I see an old rusty railroad track that was built here a long time ago to create a pier. Ajaci and I continue walking through the advancing night. It is now 2:00 in the morning. Back at the charming houses, a bold aurora strip stretches across their roofs. “How lucky we are,” I say. “Wooouuuuuiii!” howls Ajaci. “Let’s go to the fishing port,” I say my thoughts out loud. Ajaci and I push a mobile barrier fence to one side. We carefully step onto a pier. It stinks of fish. A few fishing boats have moored here and sway groaning in the gentle waves. A large bird looks at me with wide eyes, makes a few strange noises and hops a few meters away. We have probably just woken him up from a deep sleep. “A seagull,” I whisper to Ajaci. “Wooouuuuuiii!” “Shh. Not so loud,” I admonish him. We walk past large tubs that still contain ice to cool yesterday’s catch. Splash, splash, splash, the drops fall quietly into a puddle. A muffled cracking sound can be heard from the hall we are walking past, which startles me and Ajaci. A slight gust of wind catches rustling in one of the plastic sheets lying around. It is simply eerie to walk around here in the dark of night at 3:00 a.m. to capture the ever-changing Northern Lights. “We should go back,” I suggest to Ajaci, who is sniffing around the fish waste. “Wooouuuuuiii!” “Don’t do that. You’ll get a delicious breakfast soon,” I admonish him as he’s about to bite into something indefinable. At 3:15 in the morning we are back at the Terra after an interesting and unforgettable night. I quickly take off my clothes, slip into my sleep shirt and pants and try to recharge my batteries for a few more hours before hopefully heading out to sea in a few hours to see sperm whales…