The following map will give you an idea of just how close we are to home. Oxelösund is marked with a star and you can see that Nynäshamn is not too much further north of there. If we take the inner route, it is only 35 nautical miles away - a day's sailing if you want to really push it.




This realisation gives us a boost - we are certainly in home waters again. The morning is sunny and clear and from the early morning temperature I can tell that it will be a hot day. What a contrast to the ghastly grey and drizzle of Skåne and Blekinge last month. I can't believe that we have missed a whole summer of these dream conditions.

We are looking forward to seeing Björn, who has promised to show us around the pilot station as well as let us use his private buoy there. We look westwards to the mainland and I have to say that the sight of the steelworks is just as awful as I remembered it, even on a clear day.




As I said to Lars-Göran, if it wasn't for Björn, I would quite happily give the whole place a miss. We set off for a leisurely sail in the sunshine, weaving along the islands to the main harbour, checking out the commercial port, the boat club and the guest harbour before heading over to the area known as Gamla Oxelösund or the old part of town and it is quite a contrast to the nearby, modern steelworks.




Back in the days when this was simply a fishing port, there were a series of beacons that were kept lit on hills along the coastline when there was a sighting of warships heading in to shore. This was such a spot and later on a pilot station was established here as well as homes for those who manned the pilot boats.

As has happened all over Sweden in the 1960s, many of these beautiful old homes were torn down in favour of "practical" and exceedingly ugly concrete apartment blocks. Oxelösund has more than a fair share of those unfortunate architectural monstrosities, but this little bit of the old town has been preserved and thrives as a reminder of a past age. And right in the heart of the old town harbour, we moored our boat to Björn's buoy - quiet, private and really secure.




Björn greeted us warmly and showed us over the pilot station and explained a bit about the sort of work they do there. One thing that amazed me was the sheer volume of commercial traffic in the Baltic and around on the west coast. He showed us the computer tracking system used by the Swedish Maritime Administration to keep an eye on shipping. There are many areas along this rocky coastline where ships over a certain length and weight are required to have a pilot to negotiate through local waters. I looked at the little dots on the screen and asked if it was a chart of the last week or month, but he said that it was an actual picture of what was in the water right now.

We couldn't believe there was so much shipping - it was everywhere! He then took the mouse and hovered over a dot on the east side of Gotland and a message appeared, noting the ship's name, home port, call sign, course and speed. There is no hiding from these guys. He also said that we had been seen crossing Bråviken yesterday - a lone, tiny dot on their screen. He then laid the mouse over a dot far out at sea and said that this boat was heading in to Oxelösund and had ordered a pilot for later in the afternoon. Would we like to come out in the boat and see how it all works?




Wow. What could we say but a big "Yes!" So we went back and locked up the boat, fetched Lambi some water and made our way down to the pilot boat. Oh, look, my shirt matches the boat.

Björn's job is to drive the pilots out to the ship coming in to port or conversely collect them from an outgoing ship. On board were Björn to drive the boat, another man to help out with the transfer and of course the pilot. Björn is pictured here, driving out of the harbour and turning out to sea. He looks a bit grumpy in the picture, but in reality he is a teddy bear and the gruff expression is because he was concentrating on the job at hand.




Björn offered to let me sit in the other seat next to the driver, but I left that for Lars-Göran, so they could chat about engines, performance, speed and other boring men's business. Lambi and I sat behind Björn in our own little private space, with a perfect view of the passing scenery out of the window. Lambi is safe and secure in her backpack and having a ball.




We also chatted with the pilot, a lovely man who has been doing this job for over 25 years and still loves it. He travels all over Sweden, wherever he is needed but is mostly based right here in Oxelösund. It is his job to steer the ships in and out of the harbour. He directs the speed and course of the ship as he has specialised knowledge of the wind, tides, the shoals, current and weather that is typical in this location. I asked him if it was scary to hop on and off the ships, especially in bad weather, with all boats rocking, the ladder slippery and wind and snow or rain pelting down, but he seemed non-plussed and said it was all part of the job - one that he loves.

Outside of the islands, Björn floored it and the boat raced along at its top speed of 24 knots, leaving a huge, foamy wake behind it.




When we are sailing and one of these guys passes, we would normally curse as they throw up big waves which toss the boat around, so it was interesting to be on the other side today. I had always thought that it must be really noisy in one of these boats, but was astonished at how well insulated we were from engine noise. We could all chat normally without raising our voices.

Soon, the ship came into view and the pilot went outside and prepared to board. This was a Finnish boat coming in to collect steel from the mill. Björn said they were one of the regulars. Neither the pilot boat nor the ship stop for the handover. The ship slows its speed to around fourteen knots and Björn eases the pilot boat alongside to the point where the ladder is situated.




The crew of the ship stand by to help the pilot board and the extra man on board our boat is also there to ensure it all goes smoothly. Remember that all of this is taking place while both ships are still moving along. It takes quite a bit of careful driving to keep at the same pace as the ship. Today, the seas are calm, the sky is blue and it is sunny. The slick professionalism makes it all look so easy and the changeover only takes less than a minute. I couldn't help but wonder how difficult it all was in the middle of the night or during a storm when the seas were heaving.




We were then in for an extra treat. I had thought that we would be returning to the station, but while we were driving out, Björn had received a message that he was to stay out and wait to pick up a pilot who was about to leave port on a Russian ship. We had an hour and a half to wait, so Björn made a call and told us we would all be going to Hävringe, a charming settlement on an isolated island group, for afternoon tea.




We had wanted to visit this lighthouse community since we read about it being opened to the public. We saw an article about the island in a boating magazine and they said that it had been completely off limits to all but the householders, who used to chase visiting boats away. Last year, for the first time, the new managers of the island wanted to try having guest boats come in and moor. This sounded good, though when we read the line "and the cottage owners have been notified of the change" it made us feel a little uneasy. It was as though they were being forced to accept visitors against their will. Of course I had become melodramatic about it, imagining a creepy community not unlike those in the movie Deliverance, where we as outsiders would be hunted down and murdered. My more sensible husband dismissed my scenario as ludicrous and was more concerned that we may be intruding on their privacy. What can I say, he has no imagination and doesn't pay enough attention to Forensic Detectives? *grin*




Anyway, here we were with Björn to protect us, so I felt safe and happy as he eased the pilot boat through the narrow opening of the seawall and into the surprisingly tight, tiny harbour. I was glad to come here with someone else's boat first as it gave us a picture of the lie of the land without risk. As we looked to the north, we saw the Finnish boat coasting along towards the harbour, now being guided by the pilot we had dropped off.




Above the harbour, there were about 15 little cottages spread out in a higgeldy-piggeldy fashion, snaking up a hill towards the beacon. They were all painted in traditional falu red, giving it an air of a place where time has stood still for over a hundred years.




From the top of the hill, you could look back to the tiny harbour area, surrounded by cottages and framing the view across the glittering waters and rocks. In the very far distance, you can catch a momentary glimpse of the mainland approximately 10 kilometres away. What a wonderful location for a summer house!




Up by the beacon, we found a group of birdwatchers loaded down with some serious camera equipment, binoculars and an equally impressive and remarkably well stocked bar! I always wondered what orthinologists did to while away the long hours between bird sightings... It appears that this island is well known to local birding enthusiasts as a regular stopping place for birds migrating to the continent and they were hoping to see some rare species. We chatted with them briefly, wished them good luch, then followed Björn along the path to a pretty cottage on the eastern side of the island where we met up with his fellow worker and good friend, Ulf. He proved to be a genial, happy, talkative and outgoing character and he made us laugh by scolding Björn for not giving him a little more notice so that he could have baked a cake.




I took it as a joke and laughed heartily, recalling that this was the same phrase uttered by a male friend in Adelaide who couldn't even boil water and who invariably never had a morsel of food in his house. However, Ulf was quite serious. He loved to bake and if Björn had rung him while we were still at the station, he would have been ready with home baked goodies. He was charmed by Lambi and he bustled about making sure that there was a bowl of fresh water and some dog treats ready for "the young lady". Naturally, he has made a friend for life. While he was setting up afternoon tea in the garden we went up on the rocks and looked over at a lonely, isolated cottage out on the point.




Ulf then shepherded us to the table set out in the sunshine and offered us coffee and shop-bought biscuits, for which he apologised profusely and scolded Björn a second time. It was rather funny. We asked about the house out on the point and he told us that it was the old lighthousekeeper's home (built in 1891), which today is still used in the summer by the descendants of that family. The lighthouse that was attached to it has long gone. The house that Ulf leased was the old pilot's home and was used as such until the station was moved to Oxelösund in 1986. He had a wealth of knowledge about life out on the island and the history of the settlement, pointing out various points of interest, including the new lighthouse which was virtually in his back garden.




It was a delightful afternoon of chatting, warmth, laughter and hospitality that I found quite touching. We were strangers to him, but he talked to us as animatedy as if we were old and valued friends.

I asked questions about the beacon and the houses on the island and he told us that there had been a beacon here for hundreds of years, but the one we could see today, just across from his garden was built in 1753, making it over 250 years old. The 22 meter high, six sided beacon has a timber frame, covered by red and white painted wooden panels. Apparently inside there is a staircase that leads up to a room at the top with windows all around. It was from here that the pilots used to keep watch for boats that needed their help. It provided an easily recognisable seamarker for ships going to the ports of Nyköping, Norrköping and later even Oxelösund. In the early 1900s the pilot station next to the beacon was built, with a lookout in the roof.




Even before that time, there were people who lived out on the island in the summer months. These were mostly local fishermen and seal hunters who worked the waters and some of the small cottages close to the harbour would have originally been the summer homes for these men. Today the cottages on the island are owned by the Swedish Maritime Authority and are rented out to families of the old pilots and lighthouse keeping personnel.

All too soon, Björn was called back to duty and we said goodbye to Ulf, who pressed his mobile phone number on to us and insisted that we were always welcome to visit at any time we chose. Just give him a call and if he was on the island, he'd be down to greet us and if not, he'd make sure that one of his other friends there could take care of us. You couldn't get a warmer or more open invitation than that and we are now confident and happy to add Hävringe to our list of favoured stops on the east coast. Okay, okay, I may have been wrong about the Deliverance scenario.

We sped along the water to pick up the pilot from the Russian cargo boat. The crew on the boat looked so young that it was hard to resist the urge to ask them if their mum knew they were not at school! Such baby-faced boys they were.




After the pickup we return to the base at Oxelösund where we leave Björn to continue his shift and we return to the boat to pour over the voting papers. Björn has very kindly offered us the use of his car while he works tomorrow and has provided a map of the area so we can take a look at the town and of the nearby town of Nyköping. I think I'll do the laundry before we leave in the morning as it looks as though it will be a sunny day again. That way we can come back in the afternoon to fresh, clean sheets which I love. We have also asked Björn to join us for dinner tomorrow, so I must prepare for that as well.

It's been a busy day, but so rewarding. I can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring.