Oslofjorden is a doorway to the New World, a watery highway stretching from Oslo’s shoreline all the way into the great unknown. Centuries ago it was filled with wooden sailboats setting their course southwards, and later steamships fitted with rows of bunks packed tight below deck. The vessels blasted their horns in farewell to the people crowded on the quays, sailed past islets clogging the fiord like flotsam and popped out of its narrow neck like newborns into the North Sea.