I really felt like Mother Hubbard when Lambi looked longingly at me on Monday morning waiting for a treat. I opened the pantry cupboards at home and they were indeed bare as was the fridge – not one single item in any of them. I have managed to use up anything we had (and believe me there were some weird meal combinations this last week) so that there was no food wasted. Unfortunately for Lambi, the dog treats were already packed aboard the boat so she had to wait until we got to the harbour.

Onboard, I set about unpacking and stowing the last few bags of food, clothing and books that we had brought down with us. It felt really good to have all of us there, though I managed to give myself a heart attack early on in the piece. Lars-Göran had set up the birds in the cage and given them water while I got out their seed and filled their food bowls. I then set about filling the pantry and turned around to see Bruce strutting along the navigation table, nibbling at our VHF chart. I smiled at him and said Are you having fun, Brucie? before it dawned on me that he should not be outside of his cage! There was a split second of utter panic when I worried he’d fly out of the open hatch, but I acted quickly and grabbed him and put him back inside with Sheila. At home I never shut the cage door, so it will take me a day or so to remember that we aren’t at home anymore. I tell you, I sat down shaking at the thought that we could have lost him because of my carelessness.

So we are all ready to set off tomorrow. We’ll stay at the boat club tonight because this is the last Monday night of launching. We have notified Göta Canal that we are arriving at the first lock on Saturday, so it all feels real now. I’m so glad to be back on the boat in our own world again. Lars-Göran really comes alive at sea. Although on land he enjoys good company and good conversation, he is somewhat of a loner. It’s more a state of mind rather than something that is obvious to others. While he happily fits into a group, he loves the challenge of handling his boat single-handed where success or failure rests squarely on his shoulders. There is a tremendous thrill at being out in open water, exposed to the sun, wind and rain with just this simple construction of fiberglass, rope and sails with which to try and conquer it. When you are onboard, with the prospect of several weeks at sea, the boat becomes your whole life. The outside world ceases to have any meaning for you and your mind turns inwards, occupied with yourself, each other, the pets, the boat and the weather. Even the time of the day and the day of the week lose significance, as the only times that matter are the weather reports on the VHF.

It’s now early morning and it has dawned a glorious sunny day in Fagerviken.




The last boat is launched after a marathon effort last night and we are ready to cast off early. We’ve been up since 5am anyway and the winds are favourable for our journey south westwards. We are hoping to make the island group of Lacka, around 18NM away, but we have contingency plans to pull in at a couple of other places earlier if conditions worsen.

And so our summer journey begins!