I just had to tease Lars-Göran by singing a verse of The Lumberjack Song after he came back from taking Lambi out for a walk down by the local harbour bar and complaining about all of the junk in his jacket pocket. One of the problems with living aboard a sailing boat in winter is where to store all of the extra layers of clothes and shoes one needs. We have had to find places for bulky, thick winter jackets, warm jumpers and cardigans, gloves, hats, scarves and big winter boots, in addition to everything else on board. It can be quite a challenge to close the bulging wardrobe door, or indeed to extract a tightly packed item from said cupboard.

He had extricated the warm, Canada-style black jacket with the fur-lined hood and gone out with Lambi into the cold, blustery conditions. Upon coming inside again, he proceeded to empty out the pockets, accompanied by a non-stop commentary about just how much crap was in his pockets – notes, pencils, plastic doggie-do bags, lip balm and even….. MY keys. Oops… it seems he went out in my jacket, thus the appropriateness of the refrain

He puts on women’s clothing,
And hangs around in bars.

I think I’ll be keeping my lingerie under lock and key.

We did manage to go out sailing on the weekend after all. Once back at the boat after the market, we packed away our purchases and cast off, hoping to head across to another new bay on Rånö. It was cloudy, with sunny patches and quite windy, blowing from the south east at 10 to 12m/s. We kept in mind the promising forecast for the rest of the weekend while we cruised downwind past the ferry terminal and out into open water.



It was here that we found that the waves were running at around two to three metres high and we debated about the homeward journey in the same conditions should the strong winds persist. It is fine for both of us as we would simply attach our safety harness securely and ride out the pounding through the waves. Fiona is a stable, heavy boat and seems to handle the seas really well, especially with the storm jib hoisted to give her forward stability. However, the pets are a bit spooked by the sudden leanings, so for their sake we decided to forego a longer trip across the waves and instead sail the shorter and more protected route to our club island of Lacka. We haven’t been here since September last year, so it was a good chance to revisit a favourite island.

In late afternoon, we tied up on the calm, lee side of the island – all alone and at peace.



The first thing we did was to put on the kettle and to unroll the rag-rug we bought at the market. These rugs are very traditional here in Sweden and are woven from old clothing or linen, torn into strips. Lars-Göran remembers both his grandmother and mother weaving these rugs. As you can see, the colour is ideal and the size is almost perfect.



We went for a long walk around the island on both Saturday and Sunday. The really strong autumn colours have now faded and many of the deciduous trees have shed their leaves, which lie along the tracks like a pathway of golden coins. On the south western corner of the island, Lambi and I sat by the sauna – well rugged up as you can see. And I am wearing my new walking boots as well.



The view from the sauna is always beautiful no matter the season. There is a little protected natural rock pool, surrounded by low, rocky shores with the islands in the distance framing the area.



Lars-Göran took a walk across the rocks out to the edge of the shore. I’m not as confident on these slippery rocks as he is, so it was a lone journey. He is wearing his new fleece jacket, but being more used to the climate he doesn’t need the hat and gloves like I do. The light on Sunday was really unusual, being bright and strong, but filtered through a soft haze. However, it was NOT the warm, sunny weather they had been promising all week.



We also walked to the windy side of the island, where the waves were crashing against the cliffs furiously. It was so cold and the wind was so strong that one could not stand there for very long. Instead, Lambi led the way quickly back to the protected harbour. She turned to look at us and urge us to hurry, in the hope that we’d fika back on board and give her some biscuits to eat.



It is amazing just how dark it has become, especially when out in the archipelago and away from electrical street lights. In the evenings it is coal black outside, with the sky full of tiny pin pricks of stars. The clocks were turned back to winter time early on Sunday morning, so the evening seems to start much earlier. I think the summer and the period of light is well and truly over for the year.

Despite the further promise of sunshine on Monday, it was a very grey, overcast day – one of those days when it is hard to believe that there really IS a blue sky somewhere beyond those clouds. The following picture was taken at 10am, just as we were about to leave for the return trip. That is not the moon you can see, but rather the sun shrouded in an eerie mist and the predominant colour of the surrounding waters and islands is grey, grey, grey.



The Monday morning trip back was uneventful – we took the internal route back so the pets would not be too upset by the waves in the more exposed waters. And in the afternoon, it was work as usual on the wharf – the last evening of taking up sailing boats for the season.



You can see that even as early as 4pm, the dusk is falling already. There were ten boats last night and it was the longest night so far this year – Lars-Göran finished at 11.30pm and we sat down for dinner at 11.45pm! We were both so tired that we had no idea of what we were eating. Thank goodness that it was the last day for boat lifts, so we can relax now and not be obliged to be around on Mondays.

Yesterday was also Halloween, but not here. I touched on the mix-up over Halloween last year and the confusion continues with most people ignoring it totally and a few pubs hosting parties next weekend. This of course will clash again with Alla helgons dag again, which makes people here even more anti-Halloween. It just goes to show what happens when you try and import an event without an understanding of the history of both the event and the country you are trying to foist it upon.

But to those who celebrate: