It is very easy to select a route from the charts, especially when you aren’t the poor person who has to navigate their way through them. At least that was what my darling husband grumbled when I showed him that there was an inner route south from Loftahammar through the islands of the Västervik archipelago. I pointed out that it was something different to do and he in turn said that the route is both narrow and shallow in places. However after some “gentle persuasion” and a closer look at the actual wind direction (west) as distinct from the forecast direction (south east), he agreed that it was a viable way to travel. And we were glad that we went this way as the area was very pretty with traditional red cottages lining the shore.



Some of the properties were more substantial and this place, built right on the shore with its views across the water seemed an ideal place to live.



This route was well marked but very tight and after several kilometres of ducking and weaving we came to a long, broad fairway that led out to open sea. We worked out that it was a similar distance to travel whether we took this route or the more direct one out of Loftahammar and this way was so much more picturesque.

As bad luck would have it though, the wind shifted direction once we were out in the open and we were forced to zigzag down the whole long fairway and out into the rockfilled waters of Västervik. We dropped anchor in the late afternoon in Katsholmen, just south of the town, with a view of Spårö beacon and lighthouse for company.



This beacon and lighthouse have been here since 1776. There has actually been some form of lighthouse and even a customs station since the Middle Ages and even in the thirteenth century ships that passed here had to stop and pay duty on goods they had onboard. The beacon itself is really quite distinctive and was inspired by the architect’s visit to the harbour at Naples where a similar beacon stood.

In the morning we set off again down the narrow canal past the beacon.



Luckily for us there is no toll collected here these days. That particular practice stopped in 1829. The winds seem to favour us sailing offshore again today and as we pass out through the islands we can see that there are many boats out taking advantage of the weekend’s late summer burst of warmth and the good winds. We saw some lovely sailing boats out on the water today.



She is a beautiful, elegant wooden boat built nearly 100 years ago and still going strong. A little further on, we saw yet another of those giant trimarans that we encountered earlier this summer in Sandhamn. The sheer size and speed of these sailing machines has to be seen to be believed.



You can see that there are at least 25 people onboard and they look like ants in relation to the mammoth dimensions of the sails and the hull.

We had steady winds and sunshine all day and we were well pleased with the journey, but after a few days of mostly longer stretches it was quite tiring and this showed when we attempted to find an anchoring place for the night and spent a fruitless hour and a half wandering from island to island looking for the perfect bay. In the end, in pure desperation and tiredness we ended up dropping anchor in a bay where the water was 10 metres deep, requiring us to lay out all fifty metres of anchor chain! Still the view was peaceful and we may stay a few days. We’ll see how we feel after a good night’s sleep.

The morning brought strong winds, this time in a favourable direction, so we made ready to leave despite our idea of staying put for a few days. These winds are just too good to pass up. The route today will take us through the Misterhult archipelago, then out to sea at Kråkelund and southwards to Oskarshamn which is an achievable goal at around 30NM away. We pass by several small communities dotted around the inner islands near Brandö.



We sailed with only the foresail today, making good speed and giving us time to look at the beautiful surroundings. To the west of us, on the mainland, are the tree covered bays, but my favourite sight are the bare rocks that lie to the east of the route, facing out to both the sea and the winds that sweep along the coastline. Among the last of these islands before heading out to open water is the buoyed channel through the red granite labyrinth of low islands and skerries around Marsö.



Once out at sea we settled down for the run along the coastline to Oskarshamn. The north east winds are welcome, but the corresponding waves, this time coming to us unhindered from Finland make the journey less than smooth. It requires constant vigilant handsteering as the autopilot does not steer well in these conditions.

As we were nearing the nuclear power station near Simpevarp, I noticed on the chart that there was also an inside route behind the islands leading to both Figeholm and Oskarshamn. We would still have the same wind direction, but get some shelter from the waves. I showed Lars-Göran the chart and he thought that it was very tight in these strong winds but probably better for the sake of the pets than staying offshore. With that in mind we came in by the power station and started to watch out carefully for the familiar red and green markers that signify the route.

Our speed here was over 6 knots and despite reducing sail area twice, we were still passing the markers at over 5 knots which was akin to being on the Mad Mouse at the Royal Show – i.e. both exciting and a little nerve wracking at the same time.

The markers look as though they are planted in open water. If you rely on eyesight alone, it looks as though you ought to forget about all the twists, turns and hairpin bends of these crazy markers that resemble the old Mt Barker Rd out of Adelaide. Instead it seems that one should simply set a straight course for Oskarshamn, clearly visible in the distance and sail directly there. However, just below the surface of the water waiting to tear a hole in your hull lie a belt of tightly packed and lengthy shoals. Today in the fresh breeze you could see where some of the stones were as the water churned around them, making the sea look as though it were a giant boiling cauldron. But on a calm day, I bet it looks serene, innocent and oh so tempting...

Lars-Göran was kept on his toes following the markers, dodging boats coming in the opposite direction and at times wondering if we could actually squeeze between some of the markers which were placed at not much more than three metres apart. It was almost time to break out the brown undies again.

We decided to bypass the town of Oskarshamn (we can go there on the return trip) and instead stayed at another bay south of the town that we discovered a couple of years ago.



It is still as lovely as I remembered it and for a change we tied up to the cliff by the island of Kiddeholm itself. One small, white, fluffy member of the family was delighted and begged to be allowed to run ashore and roll in something disgusting as soon as we were there. She is such a grotty dog. Don’t be fooled by the pure, white innocent exterior. Within that disguise lives some kind of beast. It is balmy and warm this evening and we enjoy eating dinner out in the cockpit, admiring a rather nice timber home on the next island. I think it has my name on it....



Monday morning dawns sunny and bright with the temperature approaching 25 degrees – summer again! I bet the people who returned to work and school today are really annoyed. It often happens that August is a much better month weatherwise than July so it is a wonder that more people don’t cotton on and take a later holiday time.

Today we walked around Kiddeholm. The east side of the island faces out to sea and here you can see Lars-Göran and his faithful friend looking for a suitable place to stop for a coffee break.



The island you can see in the distance is called Blå Jungfrun (The Blue Maiden). She lies in the middle of Kalmarsund (the stretch of water that separates mainland Sweden from the island of Öland) and rises 86m above sea level. There are a lot of myths and superstitions about Blå Jungfrun, said to be the haunt of witches and the place where they gather to dance with the devil once a year just before Easter.

We saw no sign of hags on broomsticks today, just the occasional boat passing between the small skerries while we enjoyed coffee and biccies on the smooth stones.



And there was also a strange but somehow familiar man by the shore looking across to Öland in the distance.



Or is he looking for a witch?