board the 60-foot cutter Hummingbird, we’d set off from the enchanting waters of Scotland some 40 hours earlier for the approximately 240-nautical-mile passage north to the remote Faroe Islands. With a fitful southerly breeze, we’d knocked off much of the trip under sail alone, though we relented in the truly light stuff and kicked over the auxiliary to make some miles while motorsailing. All was going according to plan right up to our final approach to the islands, when damp, dense fog enveloped us and our surroundings. We knew we were literally right on top of the stark, dramatic Faroes, but we couldn’t see squat. Hunched over the radar screen, we had a clear rendering of the pass we were aiming for when the fog magically lifted and the island ahead was almost instantly revealed. The sudden scenery was otherworldly, and the sense of accomplishment over tackling the longest leg of our journey northward — with a group of happy sailors I’d never met a week earlier — was palpable. Ahead lay new adventures in what is truly a remote, one-of-a-kind archipelago, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Our unique, thoroughly enjoyable cruise had originally commenced from a picturesque Scottish town hard by the sea.