Anyone who lives and sails in the northern latitudes knows that the change of seasons is a double-edged sword. The ever-changing seasons renew and refresh us with their diverse weather patterns and climatic variety, but the fly in the ointment is winter, the one season which restricts our time on the water and drives us to the warm hearth instead.

On the first sail of the year in early spring, the whole sailing season stretches forth in a kind of timeless, hazy, vision in my mind - there's no end in sight; the season is just beginning. Not so, with autumn sailing.

Autumn's crisp, invigorating weather is a welcome change from the heat of summer, but with it comes the melancholy reality that the sailing season is nearly over. Many boats are already coming up on land, including this rather unique looking Ljungströmkryssare, which looks a little like a submarine emerging from the depths.



But autumn sailing can be extraordinarily pleasant. The water is still relatively warm, (at least compared to spring's icewater). The trees are not bare as in early spring, and offer the grandest vistas along the shoreline when the leaves change colour. The lowering angle of the sun casts an especially pleasant light, and, perhaps best of all, the weather is invigorating, with a hint of leftover summer but with a certain snappiness that makes a woolly jumper feel especially good. It is my favourite season.



We had decided to go away for a three-day weekend, but Lars-Göran got a call late on Thursday from our local metal workshop to say that the stainless steel pole for the wind generator we had left there for modifications was ready. This meant a trip to pick it up and some hours to fit it to the boat on Friday. Still, it was a beautiful day!



And our boat finally looks almost normal with only the one wind generator (I bet that makes you happy, Ian!).



Okay, so we stayed at the pier overnight ready for an early start on Saturday morning, only to be greeted with zero wind and and a dense fog that was hanging on in the east like a great grey bank of wet wool. The picture Lars-Göran took was very Casablanca-like with the strong grey, grainy colour but it is a completely untouched shot as it was exactly what we saw as we gazed across the water. And see what I mean about the extraordinary light?



We waited for wind, but none came and we were not entranced with the idea of driving by engine somewhere or tacking at 2 knots all day, so we spent our Saturday walking along the beautiful coastal road near the boat club and also chatting to friends who were masting off and preparing their boats for the winter season. We have been away so much this season that it is one of the first opportunities we have had to talk to others about where they had spent their summer.

On Sunday, it was warm(ish), a little hazy, but we had wind, so we took off with the island of Rånö in mind as a goal. This is also one of those islands that we have sailed past many times, but never stopped there. I had read a little about the bay in the north west (Rånöhamn) and it seemed as though it was worth a visit.

Again the autumn colours on the shore are still amazing with the golden tones of birch and beech trees, with all of this colour accented by the dark textures of the evergreen spruce and the beautiful red cottages.



The wind gradually built up, the sky was a piercing blue as was the water and we enjoyed the peace of having the biggest fjärd in the Stockholm archipelago to ourselves. Even the cormorants who usually colonise the bare rocks leading out of Nynäshamn seem to have made for warmer shores. I bet the local fishermen are happy about that.



As the wind strengthened, we reefed in more and more foresail until we were coasting along at 5.5 knots with a tiny sail up. Gale force winds were forecast for later, but when we were nearly at our goal, the gale hit us. However, Lars-Göran had the boat well under control and with very little problem we slid between the cliffs and into a well protected, idyllic bay. The days may be shortening and the nights are starting to chill down, but the autumn colours are stunning. Here the birch trees are thickly speckled with yellow and the grasses are now in astonishing shades of rusty orange and golden brown.



There is a family who lives on the island all year round. The island has had a long and varied history, dating from the middle ages. It was used as a warning outpost, then burned to the ground by the Russians in 1719, bought for mining in the eighteenth century, then sold to be used as hunting grounds and finally purchased after the second world war by Stockholm City. The island was not really used for anything much after that until the 1980's when a local family decided to lease it and try to set up a small farm, fishing and tourist concern here. As you can imagine, the place was very neglected and overgrown, but the rent was cheap. The family spent a lot of their own money and several years of hard work to open up the pastures, clear the land, set up the fish farm, restaurant etc, only to have their landlords come and take a look and propose to hike up the rent as the place now looked so good!



How typical. But fortunately for them, the island group was turned over to the archipelago foundation who were much more in tune with the family's aims and ambitions, so they were able to stay on here in this beautiful setting and continue their work.

The morning dawned really warm and clear and the view from our little protected bay out on to the main fairway was beautiful, peaceful and calm.



We sailed around the bay and a short way along the channel between Rånö and the small island of Ängsholmen which was a golden and brown colour in the warm autumn morning light. We really must come back and explore this area more thoroughly when we have a longer time to spend here.



We said our farewell to the island as we eased out through the high cliffs that protect the bay. We were grateful for the protection last night as the southerly winds really whipped up a strong gale and we heard that search and rescue were called out to an island north of here to rescue a party out on a seal safari that had capsized, lost their boat and become stranded on a rocky outcrop for seven hours in the cold, dark and windy conditions.



We had much calmer weather for the homeward journey and had a rapid and smooth sail back to our pier spot - all ready for the new working week and the dream of where we can go next weekend. This beautiful Indian summer warmth is forecast to continue for the rest of the week and while it makes me happy, I still feel as though we are in a dream world and living a little on borrowed time. When summer blows one last warm breath across an autumn day, it's time to finish those outdoor chores and have a little fun before winter comes to stay.