Olaf Tufte remembered as club legend ahead of final row

HORTEN (Dagbladet) — Horten Roklubb members will row one last time for club legend Olaf Tufte on Thursday, a day after learning he died of sudden cardiac arrest at age 50.

“Behind the medals and all his sporting achievements, he was a caring good guy,” said Bjørn-Inge Pettersen, Tufte’s longtime coach and friend. “He showed up whenever there was something to do. I remember that just as much as his medals.”

Pettersen, 75, coached Tufte for years and had known him since the Olympic champion was 17. Speaking to Dagbladet on Wednesday, he described the news as chaotic and unreal. “Everyone leaves this world eventually, but this was far too early. Now he lives only in memory.”

Until recent weeks, Tufte continued rowing in the waters off the club, members said. Inside the boathouse, two boats bearing his name remain, including one simply called “Tufte.”

Pettersen recalled how he first spotted Tufte’s talent and secured his father’s reluctant permission for the teenager to compete. “We barely got permission from his father, and even then only for the national championships—he had to go home and work on the farm,” Pettersen said with a laugh. That year, Tufte and teammates won three Norwegian titles in different boat classes.

The coach emphasized Tufte’s mental toughness. “When others reported pain, he pushed the extra gear,” Pettersen said. Their bond grew into a father-son relationship over more than 30 years. “We found each other. He found me as a coach, sparring partner, and human being, and I found him the same way. We had chemistry and trusted each other.”

Tufte jokingly promised Pettersen a Jäger shot every time he won, a tradition that accumulated over decades of Olympic, world, and national titles. “He almost made me an alcoholic,” Pettersen joked, though he admitted he does not care for Jägermeister.

Wilfred Solberg, 71, another longtime friend and club member, echoed the sentiment. “You must include that we are thinking of the family,” he said. Solberg, known locally as the May 17 general, had known Tufte since the rower was 17 and trained in the club’s gym. “These were our spots—Olaf’s and mine,” Solberg said, gesturing to the locker room bench. “If someone else sat there, we’d shove them away,” he added with a laugh.

Solberg was at work when he received the news. “I was stunned. ‘Go home, we see it in your face,’ they told me,” he recalled. “You enter a different mode after a message like that. Today feels unreal, but then I realize I’m talking to journalists—and then it becomes real.”