After our look around Kättilö, I had settled down to get ready for the evening when I saw that Lars-Göran was looking at the charts restlessly. I guessed that he wanted to move on, but as it was late in the day he hesitated to suggest it. I swear that you have to be a mind reader being married to this man!

So I broached the subject and suggested that we could easily move elsewhere. The forecast for the next day was appalling, so we would either have to be out in the rain or stay here another day and I think we both wanted to see a new view as the days left before turning for our new home are dwindling fast. With this on-again-off-again summer, it seems as though we really haven't got into our usual swing yet.

So we upped anchor and followed the islands southwards for a few nautical miles, choosing to stay at one of the Swedish Cruising Club buoys at their St Anna district harbour in Stugvik on Stora Ålö. Considering it is nearly mid-August, there are a surprising number of boats still out in the archipelago. Certainly many of them are foreign yachts heading home and among those tied up here were boats from Germany, Holland, Denmark, Switzerland and Great Britain. But there were still a decent number of Swedish boats as well.

It was one of those golden summer evenings and we could enjoy dinner out in the cockpit, soaking up the warmth and I hung out some washing hoping that the forecast was wrong.




Unfortunately, they weren't wrong. But looking on the bright side, the washing got a good rinse. Boy did it rain overnight - a real, solid downpour without letting up at all. Poor Lars-Göran was up half the night shutting the portlights, then opening them when a shower passed, only to have to leap up and shut them again as the next downpour arrived. You can always tell that the rain is coming as the wind picks up, like a prophet predicting the coming of a more potent god – rain. This was not just plain old pitter-patter little showers, but a full bore tropical style deluge that went on for hours.

The following day was awful - foggy and raining all day, so we bunkered down and sat it out in Stugvik. I know how much Lars-Göran wants to sail, but it seems like this is not a good year for a boating holiday. In fact it has been the worst summer weatherwise in the nearly seven years I've lived in Sweden.

When Saturday dawned bright and sunny, we knew it was time to head out and explore further. I had been looking at what lay in this area and I suggested that we go and have a look at the town of Valdermarsvik, which lies at the end of the east coast's only fjord - a narrow, deep ten nautical mile long waterway.




I had seen a back route around past Lilla Ålö, so we took that way and enjoyed being in a quiet and very pretty island area. Both of us were intrigued by a little bay we glimpsed through the trees just as we were about to join the main fjord but decided to press on and leave it for another day.

It was so good to be out in the warm sunshine again and we sat back as the boat glided gently up the fjord. There were areas with summer houses on the northern shore, but most of the southern shore was farmland with a few traditional wooden cottages at the water's edge.




One reason that we decided to have a look at this area was that one of our good friends was born and brought up in Valdermarsvik and we thought it would be interesting to see where he lived. We have often passed the opening of the route to Valdermarsvik, but never before have we had the right winds to tackle it.

In many places the fjord was enclosed by high, barren cliffs - it is certainly very different to any other place I've seen along the east coast. At times, the height of the cliffs blocked out the wind completely, so we motored through those spots or we might still be there, totally becalmed.




At one stage, we sat and watched an osprey (fiskgjuse) come swooping down just in front of our prow and fly off with it's catch firmly grasped in its talons. It was really fascinating to see the technique - the bird flew in a very tight circle, folded it's wings and dove confidently into the water. It rose with the fish, paused in midair to shake water from its plumage and to arrange fish with head pointed forward (which apparently reduces its resistance to air) and flew off, ignoring us completely.




We arrived in Valdermarsvik in the afternoon and spent some time walking around this very windy and hilly town. Unfortunately it clouded over and we could not get any decent shots of it. I would have liked to take a look in better weather and debated the pros and cons of staying the night and looking again in the morning.

However, we thought that it was not an ideal place to spend the night because it was so windy and the fact that the pier was already full of some of the Saturday night drunks. We got enough of that when we lived in Nynäshamn and there was no way I was going to pay a harbour fee to be kept awake all night. Added to that, our nearest boat neighbour was a bit of a creep and made me feel uneasy. He kept standing on the pier, arms to his side just staring at us as though we were Martians. I have no idea why and we were further puzzled when he put up a huge sheet in his cockpit and hid behind it. What a fruitcake! So instead, we filled up with diesel and water (watched intently by Mr Creepy), I took some rubbish to the bins (followed by Mr Creepy - I was seriously tempted to turn around and confront him, but in the end I couldn't be bothered). We went to the local kiosk and bought some lovely hot chips (that we ate doused in vinegar (inside the boat rather than give Mr Creepy something else to stare at) and then we left and motored a few nautical miles away, anchoring in a little bay behind an island, with the local cows for company. Much preferable to Mr Creepy.




On Sunday we retraced our way back along the fjord and decided to take a look in the little bay we had seen in passing the day before. The chart showed that there was also a shallow opening through to another larger bay and I hunted through our books and found a sketch of it in our 1970's nature harbour guide. It seemed worth a try, so we carefully eased the boat through the grounds, with one eye on the depth metre and me up the front of the boat checking for grounds. We were rewarded by coming into a lovely large, very protected pond-like bay. It was beautiful, with a gracious manor house on one shore, surrounded by extensive grounds, fluffy sheep and deep, deep silence.

We decided to tie the boat up to land Swedish style among the trees and wildflowers on a little rocky islet opposite the manor house. We were the only boat here and we loved it.




The weather was overcast, but we still enjoyed being there, watching the clouds sweep along the sky, the fish jumping in and out of the crystal clear water and the very busy bees rolling themselves joyfully in the blooms near the boat. Life seemed perfect and I was looking forward to planning where we could spend our last ten or so days out on the water.




However, in the morning, Lars-Göran seemed very subdued and when I pressed him for details, he admitted that he was really worried as a finger on one of hands had began to itch the day before. Oh no! Remember this? I couldn't believe that after all the care and treatment that this pesky eczema was making a comeback. My poor man!

Of course, this poses another problem. From here, it is at least three days solid sailing to get home and I remember that this condition does not respond to damp, onboard conditions. It means we will have to abandon plans to sail further and head home immediately. Our priority is to get Fiona safely to her new home and to do so before the eczema gets any worse.

He was feeling quite down, so I took charge. Fortunately I always have his steroid cream on hand, so I made him smother his hands and pop them in cotton gloves. I then hauled out the charts and measured the distance to Mem, where we would need to be by tonight - 35 nautical miles. Quite do-able in seven hours if we motor at 5 knots all of the way. He tried to make a fuss about the cost of diesel, but I was adamant that his health was my first priority and that he was to take it easy and leave the decisions to me.

So I guess that means we are homeward bound. And where is home now? Well, you'll just have to stay tuned and find out.