Today, with milder winds and glittering sunshine, our feet are itchy again and we want to set off early and enjoy as much of the fair weather as we possibly can. Like true wanderers, our goals are not fixed. We will simply cruise up the main route north, weaving through the islands and seeing how far the wind will take us. There are dozens of tiny towns along the shore to admire, lots of little uninhabited islands and the promise of the famous stark, red, smooth, sunwarmed granite slabs that characterise Bohuslän awaiting us.

We slip the rope from the buoy and sail out into Stigfjorden and follow a narrow, rock strewn passage past moored boats anchored along the picturesque Smögholmarna area and out into the open waters of Skaggerak. After a few days of solitude, it is a welcome sight to see that we are not alone in the world.




Midsummer marks an important boundary in Swedish summer. Many people choose to take their annual five week vacation from now onwards, so we can expect the normal busy peak season crowds fighting for a nightly mooring place. It will be interesting to observe how this all operates over here. We have been warned that popular spots are taken very early in the day, but hopefully we will still be able to find a spot, particularly as we like to lie by anchor and to search out the more unusual places to moor.

Today there are many more boats out on the water and we know that the holiday season is about to heat up. There is a sense of high expectation mixed with apprehension as we gradually nose our way out past the last few rocks in the fjord and at the edge of Lyr we swing northwards and prepare to tackle the dreaded "E6" of the west coast. The route apparently resembles a crowded motorway come July, so we will need to approach it with care. We could of course avoid the crowds by sailing offshore and avoiding the popular harbours, fishing villages and bays but then that this the whole reason we are here. We'll search for the balance we need between peace and seeing what the coastline has to offer.





It is very beautiful here today, with wind and sunshine contributing to our feeling of goodwill and happiness. These red granite rocks are only found on the west coast, having been smoothly shaped by the ice thousands of years ago. I am still amazed at the lack of vegetation on the cliffs, but have to admit that they look stunning as they reflect the morning sun.

In no time at all, we come to a picturesque fishing village nestled on the rocks under the watchful eye of a windmill. A look at the charts confirms that we are at Mollösund, a tiny settlement off the west coast of Orust.




This village, which dates back to the fifteenth century, is possibly the oldest fishing harbour in Sweden still operating today. The brightly-painted wooden houses sprawl in tight formation around a small harbour, framed by the ever present granite hills. The shoals of herring which brought boom years to this area in the 18th and 19th centuries are long gone, as are the elegant, wooden cutter rigged fishing boats that pursued them into the North Sea, but echoes of those days remain.

On a hill overlooking the harbour, there is a life-size wooden statue of a woman gazing out to sea, with her hand shading her eyes from the setting sun, in a poignant reminder of the many men who went out into the North Sea and never returned. In a tiny cemetery at the foot of that hill, there is a memorial bearing the image of a sailing ship and the names of 50 seamen lost at sea. In one year alone, a single family lost three men. But today, everything look peaceful, if a little crowded.




Life used to be very hard out here on the exposed coast, governed by the whim of the sea which had the power to both sustain life as well as to take it away. Now the sea brings in the summer tourists to help supplement income from the small scale fishing that still goes on in Mollösund today. When you look at the houses, it is easy to step back in time. As we pass by the harbour, looking at the lonely maypole and the fine wooden boat moored nearby, I think about what it may have been like a couple of hundred years ago with the men setting off in stormy weather to follow the elusive herring while the women and children waited anxiously back at the village.




And to think that they had to sail in these treacherous waters in all weathers, without the luxury of an engine, with no electronic navigation devices, very few lighthouses and almost no hope of rescue if something went badly wrong. It sends shivers down my spine to think about it. As we sail out of the narrow sund and into open water again, I catch sight of Måseskär lighthouse, standing proudly out in the distance, facing west with its back to Sweden. I immediately thought of the coastal weather reports we get twice daily on the VHF. The Swedish coast is broken up into sections for the forecast and Måseskär marks one of the boundaries. It made us smile to see a place that we hear about every day during the summer.




It looks peaceful and calm today and it is hard to believe that this is one of the stormiest places in Sweden. Low pressure systems regularly play over the North Sea and the nearest land to the west is actually Scotland, so you don't need much imagination to guess the sort of waves that can pound this coastline. Storms of near hurricane strength lash the area, sending giant waves splashing right over the island. I'm certain that I don't want to be caught in this area in any kind of strong westerly winds. But it hopefully won't be a problem, because the beauty of sailing in Bohuslän is that it can be as thrilling or as tranquil as you want it, depending if you choose a route over the open sea or opt for the sheltered channels. At this stage, the inner route seems the most appealing, even if it is busy. And our choice is immediately rewarded when I spot my first seal for the summer.




What a little cutie it was, sunning itself on a rocky ledge and watching the passing parade of boats out on the fairway. This is is the Swedish knubbsäl (known as a "harbour seal" I believe) and used to be very common in these waters. In the 1970's and 1980's around 60% of the animals died out here as a result of toxic pollution in the water, but happily that trend has been reversed as environmental awareness increased and their numbers are on the rise again.

The seal was not the only creature in the archipelago having a lazy day. Just a few hundred metres north, we entered another tight, ground filled passage next to the island nature reserve at Härmanö and saw a group of cows casually draped over a rocky headland sunning themselves. You really have to admire their laid back attitude.




See what we would miss if we sailed offshore? It really has been an outstanding day's sailing and just when we wonder if it can possibly get any better, we round a tight corner and are confronted with yet another gorgeous town, this time it is Gullholmen. This community, which dates back to the thirteenth century is one of the largest in the area and certainly the most densely packed.





I was very impressed by this charming place. The waters are quiet and very protected in the sound, though the sheer number of boats jostling for a spot in the cramped guest harbour was staggering. Ignoring that circus, however, you can concentrate on this hamlet of traditional cottages and boat sheds around the inlet. They look like fantastic gingerbread cottages with their soft pastel colours shining like icing. I expected Hansel and Gretel to pop out at any minute. The town is made up of narrow lanes bordered by white fences, with every window being a work of art with their displays of model boats, lighthouses and wooden seagulls framed by lace curtains. Many of the houses are built right over the water.




These ones pictured above are boat sheds and are particularly picturesque lined up along the shore, with their tiny rooms and private piers in front. These would have originally been storage sheds for local fishermen where spare nets and tools were kept. In winter, the fishing boat would have also been stored here. Nowadays they have been converted into minature summerhouses. Don't be fooled by the size of the house. Despite them being not much bigger than a shoebox, the enviable waterfront location guarantees that these places sell for millions of crowns - as much as it costs for a decent sized villa in the better areas of Stockholm! So you'd better have deepnpockets if you are thinking of buying anything here.





The sea is still glittering, the sky is clear and blue with the sun shining brightly, so we continue along the coast and past some more of these colourful little villages in the distance, with the houses clinging on to the rocks in front of the steep cliffs. One such place is Grundsund, which was made famous here in Sweden a couple of years ago when the popular mini-series Saltön (which was about the interaction between a group of people living on a small idyllic island), was filmed here.




Again the sheer number of boats fighting for room in the narrow harbour area is reason enough to avoid going in, but I hope it will be less hectic when we return this way as I think the town looks really interesting. Of course, as Lars-Göran points out, the name Grundsund means "shallow sound", so that may make for interesting navigation. Maybe a boat this size is the way to go.




The towns are coming thick and fast now. From the waters just outside of Grundsund, I can see the unmistakable church tower of Lysekil. There are a lot of boats out today and I see that the coastguard are out in full force patrolling the area. There are a few idiots out in motor boats today, but most people seem to be sensible. We both commented on the large number of motor boats here on the west coast. They create a lot of swell and a lot of noise which somewhat distracts from the enjoyment of the day. A sailing boat must always make adjustments in course because of them and we sometimes invent games that involve motor boats and torpedoes....




As we approach Lysekil, you can see that the church really dominates the town, almost as though it is a cathederal up on the hill. The Gothic style church was designed by the well known church architect Adrian Peterson and completed in 1901. At that time it was felt that Lysekil would expand to be a major town, with fine homes built in local stone, so a sufficiently impressive cathederal was needed. Alas, Lysekil did not grow into a huge city, so today it looks a little out of scale with the rest of the town. The local granite with which it was built was hewn by hand and winched up into place. The imposing tower stands 63 metres high and the spire rises up to 95 metres above sea level, which means that the strategically placed church also functions as a fantastic navigation mark. We use the church in Nynäshamn for the same purpose.





The town itself is an old fishing, trade and shipping harbour. At one time in the nineteenth century it was also a rather posh spa resort and the older part of town contains many fine homes from that era.

Just around the corner we came across Stångehuvud nature reserve, a place of immesurable beauty with it's smooth, reg granite rocks reflecting the warmth of the sun's rays. We are fortunate to be able to enjoy this today and in a large part this was due to the foresight of one of the doctor's at the spa, Carl Curman. He and his wife Calla realised that this granite was highly sought after by stone cutters and that there was a real possibility that they would blast these cliffs for the stone, as had happened in other nearby areas. Over a period of time they purchased a great deal of this land and in 1925 it was gifted to the people of Sweden and protected for all time.




I think we can all be thankful for that! How sad to think that this stone, formed over 920 million years ago and sculptured into these fabulous slabs by the retreating glaciers of the last ice age could have ended up as street gutters! How much more beautiful to have it here so that everyone can enjoy it. As you can guess, this is a popular place for those seeking a place to work on their tans




Bohuslän is said to be described best by the three s'es of "sill, sten och solsken", meaning herring, stone and sunshine. These beaches along Skagerrak, fashioned of large granite slabs really seem to be made just for sunbathing after a refreshing dive in the sea. Which is exactly what thousands of tourists from Sweden and abroad do every summer.

Well, it has been a full day for us, but ever so satisfying. We have covered nearly thirty nautical miles in our journey and seen a great deal. Now it is time to look for a night harbour and we slip into a deep crack in Långö, just south of the main route into Kungshamn/Smögen.




One is hardly aware of the nearby towns as the views across the water to the many islands around here are stunning. We sit outside, warmed by the sun, overlooking the horizon in the distance, reading a book and taking a moment to close our eyes, listening to the singing of the sea gulls. This is living.

Instead of mooring like the other boats who have a bow-line in to the shore and a stern anchor aft, we choose to lay anchored in the bay, swinging freely all by ourselves. The strange thing is that this type of anchoring, common in the rest of the world, is very seldom used in Sweden. Most people seem to want to be tied to land and be able to climb down and then walk ashore with a barbecue, for the inevitable evening grillning på klippan.

Not our cup of tea at all!