Month: July 2022

And the southerly winds continued. Lovely for all those going north of course, including many enjoying spinnaker sailing in the sunshine.

Motoring along all day is boring, but there’s no real alternative. If there’d been more wind, then tacking south would have been a possibility, but the idea of several days of that, and only less that half the distance achieved, didn’t appeal.

From Sandvik to Kalmar for two nights. Diesel for Josin’s indefatigable engine, 70 liters! 10 in the spare can and 60 in the tank, which holds, I think, 64 liters. Yes, we were getting low! Admirable facilities for boaters in Kalmar guest harbour, including modern wash/dry machines which just worked without coaxing. One buys tokens in the harbour office, writes the boat’s name on the list for early next morning, and turn up with two full carrier bags, (yes, washing powder remembered), and find another early bird (language-poor lady), just about to start one of “my” machines. Humph! Much waving of hands, pointing at watches and the list. There was her name for the next session, an hour later. Even with my specs on her nose to read the list, she didn’t want to admit. OK, so I was five minutes late. But. Lady backed down, reluctantly removed her unwashed laundry and disappeared, mumbling! Sorry lady, but I’m not at my most benevolent before breakfast!

Rest of the day spent on boat-domestics, stocking up on food, and shopping for books to read in the boring motoring hours. Most bookshops of a reasonable size have a shelf or two of books in English. Bought: Emma. Sherlock Holmes, John le Carré, and Adventure in the Wild Alaska, a suitable mixture, which should keep me going.

Left Kalmar very early next morning, in the hope of getting to the “corner” before the wind increased again. But. The waves soon built up and reduced Josin’s speed by nodding/pitching and crashing in synchrony, sometimes down to nearly stop if a series of waves was too large. So we retired chastised and a bit bottom-briused to Bergkvara (56 23.4N 016 05.5E), where strong winds were the general discussion theme, to the tunes of whistling in the rigging.

Forecasts for the next day agreed on a sailable wind for at least a few hours, and they proved correct. Whoopee! Sailed close-hauled for nearly four hours until a sudden backing of the wind by 30 degrees made it impossible to hold our course. Goal for the day was Sandhamn, (been there on the way north), but we had made such good progress that we didn’t stop there but continued to Karlskrona, (56 10.1N 015 31.4E). Much navigating through narrow, well-marked channels through the islands in the shallow water, motoring, with a little help from the foresail occasionally. The wind was getting stronger all the time and was giving the kite surfers a real kick and challenge. To see one capsize at a considerable speed after a long hop and crashlanding was quite spectacular! Then serious battling against the wind, increasing to 25 knots, gusting over 30, over the last stretch, tantalisingly far away to Karlskrona guest harbour, rather full, but a remote slot was available.

This morning, now wednesday 27th, the wind is still rig-whistling, so very few boats departed. Dug out the bicycle and un-collapsed it, and out-of-practice-wobbled in to the town centre, perched on a hill. Puff! Bought some fresh veg, and yesterday’s strawberries from a market stall, and some necessaries from a supermarket. Enquired as to where I could buy waterglasses, (rough waters had taken their toll), and was directed, two rights and a left and straight on, to the “Glassiären”. Now the Swedish word for ice cream is glass. Yes. Felt rather foolish, as I should have realised.

The Norwegian and Swedish languages are remarkably similar, and generally mutually understandable for their natural citizens, and even for this foreigner when he listens carefully, but sometimes with bizarre mis-understandings!

More asking, this time with a drawing and miming got me to the right emporium where i bought two glasses, size breakfast juice. Then I whooshed back to the boat before it rained.

Goal for tomorrow, encouraged by slightly-promising forecasts of slightly-favourable winds for the first half of the day is the long stretch to Simrishamn, near the southern-most point of Sweden. Another very early start, hopefully. Early to bed.

Alls well.

There has been a pause, sorry, but I’ve been very busy boating.

Today is Thursday, 21st, and we are back in Sandvik, on the west coast of Øland, after several long days a-boating. The shemozzle at Degerø started me thinking, about what the boatingweather would be like for the next few days or so. The heatwave down in southern Europe, and the general weather synopsis charts from the UK met office showing persistent highs, indicated that the low pressures rolling in from the Atlantic would be pressed up north, meaning mostly southerly winds, increasing, here in the Baltic. That meant that if I wandered around Åland as intended, for too long, I would be battling contrary weather for the way home. So, Back to Mariehamn in the evening, some of it sailing. Lovely sight going south. Marvellous that there are souls who have the time, TLC, patience and money to keep these magnificent historical vessels alive, and usable.

Careful study of all the available weather forecasts that evening, (luckily mostly graphic, and numbers, not text), indicated a sailing wind the next day and contrary thereafter.

So, early to bed and a very early start next day, to flat calm and glorious sunshine. Wind? Not yet. Engine running all the way back down to near Rødhamn at the end of the fjord, and there, on a rocky peninsular out at sea, were windmills, rotating, and pointing in the right direction. Yess! Up sails and wait, motoring the while. The forecasts were right. The wind came, gently at first and at a right angle to our course, gradually increasing to 15 knots. Wow! What could be better?

The sun shone, and the waves built up, the wind gusting to 20 knots, so we not only rushed along, we heeled and rolled and pitched and I was glad I had made sandwiches the evening before. The 30 nm took less than four and a half hours, which must be a Josinbest!

Many other sailing boats had obviously read the forecasts, and there was a bit of a regatta feeling out there! Passengers on the ferries must have thought it was a perfect day.

Arriving at the Swedish side of the Åland Sea we had made such good progress, it was still quite early and much too early to stop, the wind even veering a bit and calming, to help the decision to continue, back through the outer skerries where the wind was even more favourable in direction. Several mugs of coffee and many snacks later we anchored up in a familiar spot, Ramsmoragba. Long sailing day, and not a little sun-drenched. Weary but very satisfied.

Woken by the sun next morning, and checking the water temperature, 20 degrees, meant I couldn’t any longer avoid an early-morning swim. A look at the hull and propeller showed not much growth, so no action needed. Breakfast with the weather forecasts showed my earlier fears were confirmed. Southerly winds, 10 to 15 knots, for days on end. So, motoring days ahead.

First from Ramsmoragba to the anchorage at Rånø, (been there before), via Dalarø to fill the diesel tank to the brim, and an ice cream. Another early morning start, a bit guilty because the anchor winch howls when it pulls the anchor out of the mud. Didn’t see any irate heads popping up though.

Then to Stugvik, to a mooring buoy luckily, not via the skerries as planned, but as there was very little wind or waves, the direct route was the obvious choice. 2000 rpm and 5,2 knots. Hours. Tedium. Read a book. Even dosed a few minutes when there wasn’t another vessel in sight.

Next day we crept out from Stugvik so as not to wake anyone, and headed for open water. Inside the skerries meant lots of navigating. But. There was more wind, yes, still on the nose, and much more choppy waves than was comfortable, so after sticking it out for a while, I steered sharp to starboard, and spent the rest of the day navigating, to anchor up in Baggehällen, this time in company with two other sailing boats, both German, and the swans.

The last few days have been hot, and I even took several cool showers on the way here today, to Sandvik, where of course it is even hotter. 31 inside, over 40 in the sun in the cockpit.

Secondary use for the anchor sail, normally rigged in the after stay to reduce wandering at anchor. First time ever I needed a sunshade!

Not keen on cooking this evening, so I hope there’s room at the restaurant, and their fish soup which was excellent last time.

Alls well, tho’ warm!

Actually, timewise, between #13 and #14.

As promised, the weather over Saltsjöbaden cleared to a cloudy/sunny mid day, and a sailing breeze, so we set off after an early lunch, eastward back the way we came, then northward. On the way, sailing the other way, was this glorious example of a ’30s Swedish calmwater classic, pencil slim and astonishingly fast. Fantastic that a few splendid people spend the time and TLC on these clenodiums.

After an uneventful sail/motor, I decided to anchor up for the night in a promising little bay at Ramsmoragba (!), (59 25.3N 018 54.5E). Quiet spot, only disturbed by the ferry in the evening, and next morning, early, which started my day.

On northward, through the skerries by sail and occasional engine when headwinded, then a decision: Stop for the night before crossing the Åland Sea, or continue? Intense study of all the available forecasts. Agreed. Go! A long, rather rolypoly, rushing and invigorating sail, almost close-hauled in 15 to 20 kts of warm wind, to the southernmost harbour in Åland, Rödhamn, (59 59.2N 020 06.3E), avoiding ferries, cruise ships, and a tug pulling an enormous barge carrying wind turbine blades and masts. Maybe the tugmaster was a bitt worried awhile until he was sure that I had altered course enough to avoid him. I chose to go in front of him, (help with the engine for a few minutes), as going behind would have meant the long way round behind the barge and a headwind afterwards. That towline must have been a kilometre long!

Rödhamn was full. An obvious stopping-off-on-the-way place. Lots of Finns going SW, and lots of Swedes going the other way, probably just done what we had, but the anchorage area had just enough room for us to anchor. Seemed very late, but was confused for a little while until I appreciated that Åland is on Finnish time, one hour ahead of Sweden/Norway. A long, rather tiring, but most enjoyable day, 11 hours and 55 nautical miles.

After a good night’s sleep and a leisurely breakfast, we motorsailed through the islands, via very well-marked routes, to Mariehamn, (60 06.0N 019 56.9E), to the marina on the east side of the town. There is a more official one on the west side. Mariehamn is on a long peninsular. Found a free berth, this one with a side-pontoon out from the main one. Luxury! Could go ashore over the side, stepping with dignity instead of jumping with tribulation over the bow.

On the way in, a wonderful sight came majestically the other way, in slow tempo in the gentle breeze. Again, praise to the dedicated souls who look after these traditional and invaluable vessels.

Spent the next day on domestics, shopping and sightseeing, but that should be in another epistle.

Alls well!

Gale-forced in Degerøhamn, (60 01.8N 20 22.9E)

We hop over a few days. Will fill in later.

Starting to explore the Åland islands, first stop from the capital Mariehamn was Degerø, after a gentle genaker sail the 18 nm in the strong sunshine and a small breeze. I’d been recommended that things would be hopping at the Summer Fair at Degerö. We arrived at much the same time as a group-sail of nearly a dozen boats sailing sort-of together, so much milling around and spaghetti of ropes until all were tied up, Josin in a narrow space at the end of the pontoon. Plenty people, plenty booths, plenty ice cream tents, plenty canned music, (loud), a local bakery with delicious fresh sourdough bread and an old shed absolutely loaded, shelves-to-the-roof, with second hand books, of which only three were in English. Finnish is hopeless, but Swedish is possible, if the author is not too advanced. Main attraction on the village green was a robot rodeo bull, considerately controlled by a joystick operator outside the «ring». Much laughter and a few cheers. There was a bakedpotato stall doing good trade, and a (fresh?)fish booth, doing some. Bought a couple of fillets of unpronouncable localfish for dinner, which tasted good.

As the day wore on, the canned music was replaced by a real dance band, which answered to expectations in getting enthusiastic feet and bodies moving to the insistant, throbbing, decibels. I retired to Josin, luckily at a low-decibel distance.

I slept, to the gentle sound of small wavelets lapping at the stern. Then, at a head-confusing, middle-of-the-night hour, the wind rushed upon our innocent selves, whipping up bobbing-and-rocking waves, accompanied by un-musical tones in rigging. Steady 20 knots (40 km/t), gusting to 25 and more. People appeared, in pyjams and maybe a jacket, rushing around assessing the situation. Fenders and ropes were dug out of lockers and chaos was gradually returned to semi-order. Sleep after that didn’t happen much, though the wind abated a little after dawn. It returned with renewed strength during the morning, and a new fenders-and-ropes session developed. My neighbour to starboard dispensed countless fenders, (I had used all mine), and my neighbour to port, fortunately a substantial Finn, was most helpful in adding stability by adding ropes to more of the mooring buoys aft, after extending the boat hook with the inevitable grey stickytape.

Rest of the day was intermittantly spent trying to get some more sleep. Difficult with the bobbling motion and the noisy slapping of waves on the stern. Forecast said that things would quieten down in the late afternoon, so we´’ll wait and see.

Alls wooblywell.

Sorry about not publishing post #12 until now. Makes for lack of continuity. However, here write-ith the next one.

I left you in Ranöhamn, cooling it in the rain and wind. Things gradually improved and by mid afternoon the rain at least, had stopped, though the north-easter was still wearying, and, wanting to get moving, I donned plenty of clothing and we set off, into the wind, for engine. Rather boring. Nearing a point where I needed to decide whether to continue north-ish, or turn to port and head for Saltsjöbaden, (59 16.5N 018 18.i9E) with the wind now sailable, and as the forecast was for more rain tomorrow, (here were the warning clouds on he way):

I decided on the latter, and had an enjoyable sail in a clearing evening. Harbour looked to be chockablock full, but a yellow vest encouraged me to squeeze small Josin in between two large distainful other plastic fantastics, until they appreciated the proud Norwegian flag at Josin’s stern, and we were accepted after a few “where from” and suchlike questions.

Next day “dawned” brighter than forecast, so I decided on a new hunt for an anchor roller, and also to update a map for the chart plotter, as we were getting close to the edge of detailed-navigation seas.

A local train shuttles between Saltsjöbaden, a posh, traditional, remote suburb of Stockholm, and the city, with plenty of stops in between, one of which, Nacka, was close to a shopping centre with a boat-things shop. I managed to persuade the BillettAutomat to sell me a ticket, and we rattled along, yes, loudly, past woods and houses and water with boats. Nacka station was not announced, and I saw the station sign just as we were pulling out. Bother! Get out at the next. Study iPad map. Fairly straight-forward route, not too far. Sickla shopping centre is unusual, in that it is built around an enormous parking area. Murphy again: the next place you get directed to is on the opposite side.

Boat-things shop didn’t have an anchor roller of the right size, but a map update, yes. Across the parking area to a possible source. No, not there either. Next? I had on my list to food-shop at another station on the way back, but here was an ICA, on the other side of the parking area, so, why not? It was certainly the biggest supermarket I have experienced outside the US, and it took ages to fill my list, seemingly returning to the place I just was, instead of finding the next one. Found several succulent things not on the list, some rather heavy, and ended up with two bulging plastic bags. Consult iPad Google maps. Short way to Nacka station. Puff up a long flight of steps. Wait twenty minutes and the blue rattler appeared. Soon the PA system started bellowing messages. Something about technical failure down the line. Sure enough, a long wait at a station, a new bellow, and everyone got off, I hesitatingly last. My body language must have been convincing, as a slim thirty-year-old offered his translation, then generously took my heavy bags and we followed the straggling line, through leafy woods, to a stationary, untidy queue at a bus stop at another shopping centre, this time in one building, just as the promised rain arrived, in large, very wet drops. No bus thanks, a TAXI! My Good Samaritan friend helped again. Short wait huddling under a roof overhang and Taxi arrived, very helpful, quickly, with the clobber. He drove me almost all the way to the boat, the last bit along what I would consider to be a wide footpath. With pedestrians. Whatever. Taxi fare was nearly twenty times the train, but way worth it! After all that excitement, exertion and stress, I took it easy for the rest of the day.

Forecast for tomorrow was promising, rain to cease in late morning. It did, to a lovely day, even for sailing!

More tomorrow. Alls well!

Oh dear, forgot to publish this. Here it comes!

Still in Stugvik, we moved to attach to shore, alongside Jørgen and his light blue Ballad. Interesting to see all the improvements he has made, including copying some of mine.

As you can see, a very rural place to tie up and be neighbourly. Spent a convivial evening with Jørgen and Lisa, and grandson, (was his name Leo?), who had spent most of the morning in the dingy, either puttering around with the outboard, or rowing, experimenting, and the afternoon learning how to sail for the first time. Not much wind, so he had difficulty, but fun. Very pleased with himself, and proud grandparents.

Left at a civilised hour next morning and motored the few nm to Fyrudden, (58 11.5N 016 51.1E), for more food and hopefully a replacement roller for the anchor, the previous one having suddenly decided it would come uninstalled. Hope dashed. Ice cream in compensation.

Then onward, motorsailing in the gentle breeze, navigating the islands. Some places there is little room for manoever, and murphy ensures that one meets another boat just in the awkward spots. The weather was unstable, and the Cu were growing rapidly into CuNb. Very spectacular, and more than a little worrying.

Difficult to evaluate in which direction the core was moving, and thus the rain and/or catabatic winds. While I was deliberating, sure enough, and long before I reckoned, the wind roared down upon us, and blew at over 40 knots, very suddenly indeed. There followed a very active sailor, frantically reefing and winching in flogging sails, trying to not rush towards a threatening, solid-looking island, the while. All, after rather frantic efforts, under control. Breath out. A very interesting and educational experience. The wind reduced suddenly to a brisk sailing wind, so after a suitable wait to see if the cloud hadn’t changed its mind and had finished its blowing, I gingerly hoisted sail again, reefed just in case, and sailed most of the rest of the way to Mosskjær, (58 32.7N 016 59.2E), where I knew there was a sheltered anchorage from the southwester.

Forecast for the next day was for a suitable westerly, and we were heading east, so an early start was made, just after 7, having even made sandwiches and thermoscoffee too, and the wind came after an hour and pushed us all the way to Rånøhamn, (58 56.3N 018 10.6E), where we anchored up in the well-shelterd bay. A known spot, and popular, several other boats either anchored or tied up to the shore. There had been signs of CuNb activity well inland on the way, which I had watched carefully, but luckily no consequences for us today. Long day, nearly 50 nm.

Quiet night was followed by a grey, wet and depressing morning, so I relaxed, read book, (cooled it in modern terms), and waited for better conditions.

Yesterday must wait til the next posting.

Alls well.

Leaving Sandvik, (I’ve corrected the coordinates in #10), in the afternoon meant an evaluation while underway as to how far to sail, for sail we did, a 10 to 15 kt southwester, which took us north over the sound to the Swedish mainland east coast, with myriads of islands and lurking rocks, to a delightful little bay called Baggehällen, (57 23.9N 016 38.8E), surrounded by trees, where the anchor dug in solidly. Relax! Longish day. Meal. Early to bed.

Next morning, just after sunrise, I think I was awakened by the sounds of nature getting the day going. Herons squawking. Cookoos, (in July?). Crows arguing. Anyway, quite idyllic. Ate a leisurely breakfast in the cockpit and watched four swans, each patrolling with their brood of ball-of-fluff ducklings, (cygnets?), upending themselves to find food. Fun! Clean forgot to take pics. Bother.

Forecast was for a gradually increasing south easterly, which luckily checked this time, which blew us a main-and-genaker sail in the sunshine all the way to Stugvik, (58 07.0N 016 49.0E), where the local group of the Swedish Sailing Association has its out-harbour. Been her several times before, and always a place, even though there are usually many boats.

Another Ballad there, (the boat furthest away in the second pic), captain Jørgen Ekvall, who I’ve met several times before, and who remembered previous meetings much better than I did.

Awoke after a strangely disturbed night to a grey and not very inviting, overcast morning, so decided to stay the day, and do some boatjobs, not least of which was to re-discover how to stop the genaker sheets from getting tangled when rolling the sail in, (a three-hand job). Maybe a swim later to investigate the hull for weed, and the logrotor, which has become unreliable. Then leave the buoy and tie up beside Jørgen for a proper chat.

Alls well.

And the sun shines…..

We left Kalmar after a leasurely morning waiting for the promised wind, and having had to wait a while at the fuel dock while two large vessels, hardly pleasure size, filled up with fuel. The first one done swallowed 2500 liters. Never seen so many digits in the pump’s display! We sipped 40 liters, and an icecream for the wait.

Then up with the mainsail in hope, and motored out into the channel and head north. Gentle north east wind, gradually veering to east, so the sails helped the engine all the way to Sandvik (57 4.3N 016 51.3E). 31 nm under high cirrus, and the promise of a front. Calm night.

Next morning, a breakfast visit from Bengt, who runs an ecological farm with various animals, including camels. Had to be breakfast, as the ride-on-a-camel session started mid morning. Good to see him again, slightly older, more white hair and a longer pigtail in his beard. Matched the glorious resonant laugh.

Spent the rest of the day installing the new bow navlight, having obtained helpful advice from Lopolight-help. It finally worked. Celebrated with a delicious fish soup in the harbour restaurant. Intended to travel further north next day, but couldn’t find my sunglasses. Must have taken a swim, but the water was too dark to see the bottom. Sandvik’s various emporiums are strong on icecream, but weak on sunglasses. No busses, or taxis. So had to retrace steps a bit to Borgholm, Øland’s capital, 13 nm south, which promised three optical shops.

The sun shone and the wind blew gently in the right direction, so we had a pleasant sail to Borgholm. Big event there, exhibited on the quayside, a gathering of American cars, I think they are called “street”, the ones with squashed, 30’s style bodywork, large rear tyres, small fronts, and a throatfull V8 engine, everything brightly painted. But I was on a sunglasses mission, striking out with walking poles in fine tempo amid the hoards, and dived into the first optical shop I came to, bought two pairs of the right sort of Polaroids, and headed back to the boat. Away again, all in thirty five minutes, Didn’t even stop for an icecream.

Out to sea again, and what-do-you-know, the wind had backed to southwest, and we had a lovely gentle sail back to Sandvik,, it being too late to go any further. Yes, that cirrus had thickened and was moving fast, so there was a front a-coming. Sandvik was as good a place as any to hide from the winds and rain, so, tie up in a spot sheltered from the predicted wind direction. The rain and wind came, plenty of both, in the late evening. Wrong wind direction. We were now in direct line of the wind-driven rollers surging through the harbour entrance. We bounced. We rocked. Josin tugged and snatched on her mooring ropes so jerkily that I added more ropes. Didn’t stop the jerks, but maybe three ropes all tied to different parts of the boat, would survive. A very disturbed night followed, in worry and anxiousness. Couldn’t possibly move the boat as the wind would have blown Josin ashore as soon as ropes were released. So, wait. Mid morning, the clouds suddenly cleared, the wind abated and changed direction, and things died down enough to get in some much-needed sleep.

By mid afternoon, all was benign and sunny and peaceful, with a fine sailing southwester, so we set off again, northward.

Enough for this installment.

Alls well!