One of the most enduring sailing superstitions states that it is unlucky to begin a voyage on a Friday. I always thought this was an old wives’ tale, but in light of Friday's events, I’m reconsidering my previous stance. The stretch from Söderköping to Norsholm, consisting of 12 locks, took us eight hours in continuous pissing rain. I've never been more tired, wet, cold and hungry in my entire life and all for a measly 11 nautical miles. What am I doing here?

It all started innocently enough - overcast for sure, but reasonably pleasant as we set off along the glittering waters of the canal west of Söderköping.




We still hadn't quite figured out the starting times of the lock keepers. The office told us 8.00am, but it wasn't until 10am that they arrived at our lock. It appears that the office meant that they begin at 8am at the beginning of the section (in Mem), picking up boats at various points as they continue to the end of the section. They were even later than expected as some of the boats were much larger than anticipated, needing the entire lock to themselves. This meant that there were three convoys instead of one and we were in for a wait at every lock. Added to that, the heavens opened and there was a heavy downpour even before we reached the first lock.




I can tell you from first hand experience that it is hard work jumping off the boat onto a slippery stone wall wearing thick clothes, waterproof raingear and rubber boots. I didn't slip over, but it was a close call a couple of times and the wet, cloudy conditions, coupled with wet, slimy ropes and trudging along muddy tracks between the shorter section dressed like Michelin Man was not my idea of a holiday. Still there were pretty rural scenes that we glimpsed between the showers and several groups of farm animals watched our progress (probably questioning our sanity as well!)




Each time we got to a lock, I had to hop off the boat and be ready to catch the ropes L-G threw up to me, then attach them to the rings and wait for the lock to fill, afterwards unhooking the ropes and hopping back aboard with them while we motored along to the next lock. Some of the locks were double ones, so I found it easier to throw the ropes back on board and walk along to the next section (usually between 200m and 600m away) rather than all this jumping on and off the boat. I tell you I was completely buggered after a whole day of it. I was almost too tired to appreciate the passing scenery, though the weather started to clear up in the late afternoon so we could enjoy our trip through the winding, narrow waterway.




As I mentioned, we had to wait at each lock. This was both for the boats ahead of us in the convoy as well as for boats on a convoy travelling in the opposite direction. At least it gave me time to walk between the locks, though we had no time to eat anything along the way. It was too wet to keep our usual supply of nibbles out in the cockpit with us, so I was starving by the time we reached Brådtom in the late afternoon. There were small cafés along the route, but none of them were open as this is considered "pre-season". On a brighter note, the weather was much better and you see the dark clouds were now behind us as we looked back over the small lake of Asplången. You can just see Lambi peeping out of her basket to catch the first rays of sunshine for the day.




We also discovered another disadvantage to taking the canal so early in the season when we got to Norsholm. There was not one place to moor at the guest harbour. We had also noticed this at Klevbrinken - all the available pier space was being used by local boats that were newly launched and waiting to mast on. This time is considered "pre-season" and they know that nobody from Göta Kanal was going to check the harbours and see who was there. This meant that there was actually nowhere we could stay, despite the fact that we had paid for our tickets and all of the facilities.

We weighed our options carefully. We could cross the 15 NM of lake Roxen over to Berg or Linköping, but I was so tired that I threatened divorce if we had to go another metre, so we tied up on the outside of the township on Lake Roxen. Norsholm is a very small, quiet town. Well, except for train line, that carried a rather startlingly high number of trains. I was in bed by 9.30pm and slept like a log, awakening to a beautiful warm, sunny day. Rain? What rain?




It seemed a perfect day to cross Roxen. We had a beautiful start to the journey with good weather, but then it clouded over, strong winds blew straight at us from the west, whipping up the surface. The lake is quite shallow at 5 m, but the waves are quite choppy and steep as there is nothing in the way to block them. And of course, the wind was right on the nose. On the shore, we saw typical countryside, with grazing cattle.




There were also large farmhouses, framed by the glittering water and sea grass, with ripening fields of bright yellow rapeseed contrasting perfectly with the traditional red farmhouses and green grass.




As we neared the western shores of the lake, we discussed where to go, deciding that as we had our next lock booked for Tuesday, that we could spend a day or two checking out the university town of Linköping while we were here, before heading along to Berg. According to the charts we had, there was an entrance from the lake along a river up to the local boat club and we decided to make for that part of the shore. Along the way, we saw some enthisiastic wind surfers out taking advantage of the windy conditions. They were certainly moving through the water at a blistering speed.




The others we saw here were the kite surfers. I have never seen these in Australia, but they seem to be popular here. We have one of the best surfing spots in Sweden just down the road from where we live, so I have seen a few of these guys out there catching the wind and skimming across the water. They use an inflatable kite that is tethered to a harness, with their feet attached to a small surfboard. The power of the wind propels them both through the air and the water. I'm sure it is a huge adrenaline rush - and they look impressive out on the water.




You can see that even though this is a small, shallow lake, the waves are Soon after, we were looking out for the markers that indicated the entrance to the river (Storån) that would take us to the local yacht club. It was quite invisible and we were a little worried as the wind was driving us forward at considerable speed towards the shore and we could only see reeds. At the last possible minute before total panic took over, we spotted the carefully hidden opening and made our way into the calm, sunny waters of the river flanked by pretty summer houses.




We discovered that we were not alone in the water. No, there were no other boats around, only the occasional bird watcher trying to get that extra close shot. Definitely a wtf? moment.




We moored at the local boat club and cycled through the park lining the river and into the town of Linköping itself. Linköping celebrated its 700 year anniversary in 1987 and is considered an important cultural town. It was the site of a battle between the Roman Catholic King Sigismund of Poland and Duke Charles of Södermanland (later Karl IX) in 1600. Charles won the battle, making Linköping part of Sweden rather than part of the Holy Roman Empire. Today, with its population of 95,000, it is better known for its university and high tech industry.

Dominating its skyline is the impressive 107m tower of Linköping Cathederal, visible from many miles away.




The building was begun in 1220 and it is one of the largest and best preserved Nordic medieval cathederals. Inside, it is a not always harmonious blend of Romanesque and Gothic architecture, but no-one can fail to be awed by the sheer size and the massive presence inside. The wooden crucifix you can see dates from the 1300s, which is amazing when you consider the number of fires that ravaged the building. Sweden's most celebrated saint (St Birgitta) claimed that Jesus spoke to her from this crucifix. I suspect she'd be locked up in a padded cell if she had made that statement today, but in the fourteenth century I think they were more inclined to believe her.




On the way back to the club, I had a nasty fall on some uneven ground and ended up with a bruised hip and shin plus a bent thumb. All of this is both extremely painful and restricts my movements. I hope that I can recover enough to continue the locks on Tuesday - but tonight I think it will be painkillers and an early night. I'll never begin a journey on a Friday again!