Well, after a hectic time everything was packed up and ready for us to move out on June 16th. The extraordinary thing about packing up early is that in an effort to leave the objects one uses the most, you realise how much you really don't need.

For instance:

Why do I have two staple removers? Why do I even have one? Why can't I use my fingernail? In fact, I do use my fingernail! I didn't even know I owned a staple remover...

The apartment felt so empty and different with the books in boxes and the furniture in pieces awaiting the arrival of Joppe and Annelie who were helping us to move.




Everything went really smoothly, though we worked like slaves from early Saturday morning until late in the evening before it was all loaded into the new apartment and we were back in Nynäshamn for the last couple of days to finalise the handing over of our old apartment to the young woman who has bought it from us.

The next days were filled from dawn to dusk with provisioning the boat for summer, signing contracts at the bank, handing over the keys and saying goodbye to friends here - a much harder and more emotional experience than we expected. We've been in Nynäshamn for just over six years now and several friends will be sorely missed. Yes, we will still keep in touch, but without the daily contact things will never be quite the same again.

By Tuesday we were more than ready to cast off and head southwards towards the Östgötaskärgård where we are going to spend a few days with Lars-Göran's mother, brother and sister-in-law. The weather was....well, Swedish summer weather. That is.... RAIN. Just before we left Nynäshamn, we got some junk mail from one of the big sport clothing chains with this picture on the front cover:




The text reads "Dressed for Swedish summer". Can you imagine that picture accompanying a text saying "Dressed for Australian summer"? No, I thought not. I remember when I took Swedish classes and one of the earlier lessons was about the seasons. In one of the exercises, we were given pictures of Sweden at different times of the year and we had to write what season was in each picture and some words to describe that season. Some were quite straightforward, but one had me stumped. It was a picture of four people dressed in rain gear, huddled under umbrellas while seated around a foldable picnic table with eskies under their feet. The rain was pelting down. It reminded me of several rained out Easter Oakbank picnics, so I guessed that it was probably autumn, though it could also have been spring. Imagine my surprise when the teacher said that it was SUMMER! I thought he must have been joking, but no, he was quite serious. At the time I had just lived through my first industrial strength northern winter, so the news that summer meant rain was not exactly welcome. Of course, it is sunny as well in summer, but rain is a feature, especially afternoon showers which can be quite heavy.

This all came to mind as we sought a bay in which to spend midsummer. The forecast was for rain (surprise, surprise) and strong easterly winds. No sunshine, even though it was meant to be midsummer! We found a likely mooring site on the charts and we were delighted with the view from the boat.




We had come here from the northern side of the island and had no clue that there would be a house here, only that the bay appeared to offer the protection we needed. The view of the farmhouse was a bonus. At one time there must have been people living here fulltime making a living from a mixture of fishing, hunting, piloting, tending a few animals as well as growing potatoes and other root vegetables. These days, the islands are mostly inhabited only in the summer months. What a beautiful outlook for them, surrounded as they are by the sea dotted with small islets, nesting seabirds and a steady parade of passing boats.

We were not alone here, though we were the only boat anchored out in the middle of the bay. The others chose to be tied up to land and just in case you thought I was joking about the Swedes eating outdoors under umbrellas in the rain, here is a picture of a group of people from two of the boats moored to land.




I can't say that it looked a particularly inviting way to spend midsummer. Brrrrr...... I guess I'm no viking.

We opted to be slightly more civilised (or wimpy, depending on your interpretation) and set up the tent in the cockpit, added cushions, pillows, books, wine and nibbles and enjoyed watching the passing clouds and the birds at play on the island.




Kalvholmen/Griskär is a really beautiful little group of islands and if the weather fines up we are keen to explore some of the islets around us. The low smooth rocks look very inviting and easy to walk around on - even for a lazy little dog like Lambi. Midsummer eve weather was much like last year - cold, wet and windy. But unlike the place where we stayed on the west coast, we were in shelter behind the rocks and trees while it blew on the other side of the islands. The sun peeped out briefly in the middle of the day - long enough to raise the midsummer pole and for people to gather around the table to eat.




We ate our meal onboard a little later - four kinds of marinaded herring, freshly boiled new potatoes, chopped onions, a butter/chive sauce, crispbread and beer. It's simple food, but delicious especially as it was a season first for us. And festive food is always a joy when you share it with friends and loved ones.




We have a long haul ahead of us tomorrow in order to cross over our least favourite stretch of water (Bråviken - 8NM of misery!) and then to weave our way through the stony St Anna archipelago into the southern area of Yxlö to where we are meeting up with the family for a few days. I hope the winds and rain ease.

Despite the less than stellar weather, the wildlife here is wonderful. Today I saw what I thought was a mini Canada goose, but consulting my trusty bird book, I saw that it was in fact called vitkindad gås in Swedish and Barnacle goose in English. You can see the similarity to the Canada goose, though these are much smaller and less intrusive.




I've never seen one of these birds before and from reading the entry in the bird book, it seems that they usually are much more at home in the higher arctic regions, with breeding grounds in cold, desolate places like Svalbard. This pair were obviously not into ice and snow and have chosen to nest in the milder climate of Sweden, all alone on this tiny islet. Their fluffy little chick was adorable and both parents guarded the islet fiercely, chasing off terns, gulls, ducks and feeding their little one around the clock. It was a touching sight.




The winds seem to be abating somewhat, which is promising for tomorrow. The trouble with agreeing to be in a certain place at a certain time, is that you feel obliged to keep moving forward. Normally we might choose to wait for better winds, but if we want to be in Mon on Sunday, we need to get cracking. This is not ideal as we are promised fog and showers to add to the winds - another pressure in these rocky waters where you need to stay vigilant at all times.

Still, it will be great to spend some time with everyone before we all disperse for the summer holidays and I know that a certain fluffy little dog will be beside herself with joy at the prospect of unlimited patting and copious treats from granny. So tomorrow, rain or shine, it's southward bound for us.