The task of preparing the boat for winter is well underway. The mast is taken care of and now carefully stored away in the mast shed. It took over a week's work to get it all ready.



First, one must clean it thoroughly with an automotive cutting paste to remove the oxide from the aluminium. It is very time-consuming, dirty and fiddly work. The particular product we use leaves a water-repelling film to protect the metal from tarnishing and oxidation. Later I applied a thick coating of parrafin oil to also help avoid any water damage over winter.

While I did that, Lars-Göran was busy covering the boat with tarpaulins over a frame to protect it from snow and rain as well as working on the sanding of the hull. Of course, it wasn't all work and no play!



It's quite a relief to have that part of the work over and done with.

You know, if someone told me that I would be eating and enjoying fruit soup after living here for a while, I would have laughed at them. To me, fruit was pretty much the dessert part of a meal. Sure, I could almost accept Duck á L'Orange or Apricot Chicken at a stretch and I did eat grilled pineapple with my hawaian steaks and even applesauce with the roast pork. But soup consisted of things like chicken noodle (NOT available in Sweden and greatly missed), minestrone, pea and ham, tom-yum etc.

When we were staying with Lars-Göran's family at the summer house we were feeling a bit peckish one afternoon and my sister-in-law said (well, I thought she said) "How about if I make up some Nippon soup?" Okay, that's a new one on me, but I was curious. Nippon soup? Something Japanese? Was it perhaps some kind of miso?

I couldn't have been more wrong. When Mille suggested that she'd make some up and we could have it with icecream, I quickly asked her to repeat the name again. What she said was nyponsoppa, which translates as rose hip soup. And it is delicious. Served either hot or cold as a snack or as a normal soup. It has become one of my favourite soups.

So I was quite excited this morning when I spotted this in our back garden:



Fresh rose hips just begging to be made into soup. The rose hips can be dried and kept to use as the base for the soup. This time of the year there are plenty of them about as the rosa rugosa is a very common variety in Sweden and you are allowed to collect the fruit from plants on public property.

There seem to be a large number of autumn berries around this year. I've never seen such a profusion. Our town is full of rönnbär trees. That means rowanberry in English and they look like this:



This is one growing near the library, but there are countless trees everywhere in Nynäshamn. These are the berries of the European mountain ash (Sorbus aucuparia), which is a plant that I'm not familiar with. I believe that you can make a type of sauce not unlike cranberry sauce from them. They are a very popular winter food for those birds who are silly enough to stay in Sweden over the winter. At the moment, they are very bitter, but apparently freezing them helps to sweeten them and when you make the sauce, you are supposed to freeze them first. Most people here leave them for the birds.

Lars-Göran was upset to see so many berries. For him, it's a superstitious sign that we are in for a long, hard winter when nature provides a bounty of winter berries. He thinks that the ground containing the usual grass seeds will be frozen longer, so the birds will need the winter berries.

He was further anguished to spot an abundance kråkbär or crowberries on these bushes at the guest harbour.



Again, this is a berry that only improves with freezing, so it looks like there will be plenty of food this winter for the birdies. Perhaps people won't need to supplement their natural food sources with extra food. It's very common here for people to leave out food for wild animals. At first I saw this as interfering with nature, but now I can see that a harsh, cold, snowy winter kills many wild birds and animals, so perhaps there is an argument for leaving out a little extra for them.

It's another glorious sunny, crisp autumn day. And the town looks beautiful.



I hope it keeps up for a while longer. It is getting steadily darker and darker now, so we need all of the sunshine we get. The prospect of those grey November days don't thrill me. But that is still ahead of us. I'm going out to enjoy today as it is.

I know that Joseph may have had his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat, but in Sweden he would be laughed out of the room. One coat? Is that all you have? For each season you have only the one coat? Don't make me laugh!

That was pretty much the reaction I got from Lars-Göran the day I arrived in Sweden, as I showed him my so-called winter clothes and shoes from Australia. He thought I was having him on when I showed him my collection of heeled court shoes, my winter boots and my only coat.

To be fair to me, it was 42C when I left Adelaide that fateful December day. It can be pretty hard to get in the winter spirit under those conditions. How was I to know that it would be a slightly cooler -6C in Sweden. Is there a temperature below +10C? I'd never experienced it!

One thing you hear a lot in Sweden is the saying "There's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing". I rolled my eyes, but it IS true. I now look at the assorted collection outer wear I have accumulated and I realise that living in this climate, you become a real connoisseur of coats and accessories.

So, what does Marie own?

First there is the summer jacket.

*Pause while those in Adelaide pick themselves up off the floor*

Finished laughing?

Yes, I have a summer jacket. When you realise that even in "summer", it never gets above the mid twenties, you'll understand that I need something like this. It's for those days when it's sunny, but there is still a chill in the air (most summer days). The jacket is lightweight and shower proof (just in case!). You've seen me wear it here.

Next we have the rain jacket.

That is for those days when it's really damp outside. I brought this one with me from Australia. I used to wear it to watch the winter soccer games. It is a lightweight, waterproof fabric and worn with a nice thick wooly jumper underneath, it is perfect to stay dry. I used to wear it in the snow when I first came to Sweden as you see here.

Number three is the in-between jacket.

This is a heavier weight, furry fabric. It's lined as well for extra warmth and ideal to keep out cold winds and make sure you are cosy and warm. It also has big, roomy pockets to hold everything I need to bring with me. I commonly wear this in late summer/early autumn and in late spring. I'm wearing it here.

Now we have the winter jacket.

This is my my heavy duty, industrial strength, now it's really winter coat. It is mid-thigh length, well-padded, with a fur-lined hood that comes forward enough to protect my glasses and face from the snow. Ideal for shopping at the
christmas markets.

I do also have a more formal winter coat. It is almost as warm and cosy as the winter jacket, but has no hood, is lined with fur and is a pale sand coloured suede. I don't wear it that much as it's not a practical colour for a dog owner. Those muddy, wet paws leave stains!

And I also have the wet weather, windproof sailing jacket.

Quite a collection!

Moving on to the accessories. I have lightweight woven gloves, which I find perfect for cold days. I wear them about the same time I wear the in-between jacket. I also have my lovely thermal lined leather gloves. Very warm and toasty for my poor frozen pinkies. On the boat, I wear warm ski-ing gloves to break the wind and protect my hands when steering. I did bring a pair of knitted gloves from Australia, but they were laughingly inadequate for the industrial strength cold Sweden can turn on.

Hat wise, I have my faithful orange cap. That's the most common one I wear. I have a ski-ing style fitted cap that I wear under my hooded winter jacket when it gets arctic. For those freezing days when I still have to go out, I have a fur hat. Yes, real fur. I know it's politically incorrect and all that, but it was a gift from my mother-in-law and I have to admit that it is much warmer than I could have ever believed.

Scarf wise, I have a lightweight, but toasty warm orange pashmina, an orange woolen scarf and a collection of lightweight silk scarves.

Yes, I am that woman for all seasons.

You Are Fall! Thoughtful Expressive Creative Poetic Smart What Season Are You? Take This Quiz :-) Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

Yeah! All right, so I massaged the results to get the correct one to fit this post. I'll admit I was winter, if that makes anybody happier. I just wasn't ready to post that for a few months yet :)


It's only 3.7C outside. Brr… It's not exactly grey, but definitely not sunny. I think it’s time to break out the furry hat and gloves (if only I could remember where I put them).

There are some consolations to this crisp weather, though. The lovely ivy on the buildings and retaining walls are turning deep red, the maples are just starting to show off their orange, red and green hues and the birch are turning green and gold (just wannabe Aussies, those birch trees!).

Check out the colours of Sweden in autumn. My friend Carolyn took this wonderful picture just outside of her apartment. I love autumn leaves.




I really do enjoy autumn as a season. The colours are so vibrant and amazing that it still takes my breath away. We don’t have anything quite like this back in Australia, certainly not in the part where I come from. Deciduous trees are pretty thin on the ground there, unless you make a special trip to some place like the Mount Lofty Botanic Gardens for a visit. All of our street trees were natives (kurrajongs or jacaranda) which stay green all year, so this is all very exotic for me. As is the crispness of the cold, the faint smell of wood smoke. Perhaps this is not as exotic for those less fortunate people from the crappy parts of Australia, but to me it is quite new.

Even a simple walk in the ´hood is breathtaking.



I also love to watch those lively little birds stocking up for the winter. I have a real soft spot for the tiny sparrows who are so charming. I do feel sorry for them, though, when the crows come along. I saw some sparrows outside pecking at a piece of discarded bread crust the other day. It looked so cute (I couldn’t take a picture as the camera is still not back!) Anyway, they were making those sweet little peeping noises and busily hopping here and there nibbling at the crust.

Then “the big boys” arrived. A group of three thug crows descended and swaggered over like schoolyard bullies. You could almost here them say “Clear off!” to the little birds. Of course the sparrows scattered and the crows argued among themselves for the spoils. There really is something quite creepy about crows. Last year, I took a picture of a group of them in late autumn, sitting atop a tree in the park:



I’ve just looked up what a collective group of crows is called and that creeps me out even more. Would you believe that it’s a murder of crows? Very apt, I think. Combine that description with the picture and it makes me believe that perhaps Daphne Du Maurier was on to something. Maybe the birds are taking over! After the visitations we had over the summer, I think I need to check out the situation with Bruce and Sheila - who have already taken over our apartment!



You will notice that I have pictures in this post. Does that mean we have a digital camera again? Sure does!

So what was wrong with our dear Canon a40? Buggered if I know. It's been a couple of weeks since we put it in to see what is wrong, but no word so far. So how am I taking photos? Well... err... ummm... would you believe that we were suffering from withdrawal symptoms and bought another one.

It's not as reckless and frivolous as it sounds. Lars-Göran always wanted an Olympus mju400, attracted by the 4 megapixels and the weatherproof case (a bonus on a damp environment like a boat). However, it was well outside of our price range. But today, we were walking in centrum when I ran into my old Swedish teacher just outside of the tiny mall we have.

We stopped and chatted about what we did in summer and Lars-Göran, being slightly bored looked at the window display and gasped. There was the camera he wanted for a ridiculously low price at our local electronics shop. It seemes that Olympus have brought out a new model with a few cosmetic changes, so the "old" model was being sold off cheaply to make room.

We decided that it would be worth having at that price regardless of what Canon tell us about our camera. Maybe if they fix it we can sell it. Or keep it. Who knows. But we have a camera again. And that makes us really happy.

And so I can show you another picture of that terrible place I live:



I've really got to get out of here.

NOT!

Our PC has been infected with spyware. God I hate that stuff and I really resent the time I have to spend running anti-virus programs, adware and spybot removal, installing firewalls, updating all of this every few days and STILL find that despite all of these precautions, we have been invaded.

I'm sure there is a special corner of Hell reserved for those who write and distribute this stuff. Right next to those who send out SPAM!

While reading up about what to do, I came across this article.

The current time your average unprotected PC running Windows XP, fresh out of the box, will last uninfected once it's connected to the internet is only 20 minutes! That figure is half that of what it was a year ago.

As the SANS Institute notes, 20 minutes is not long enough to update your Windows PC before it is too late. If you take a new PC out of the box, power it up then connect it to the Internet, only a few people will know enough to immediately head over to Windows Update and get the latest patches from Microsoft. Then reboot. Oh, and don't leave out the latest anti-virus updates either. Gotta have those. And don't forget Windows XP Service Pack 2.

And users are supposed to download all this in less than 20 minutes?

Forget it. We all know what really happens. Most people start up their computer and begin reading email.

And soon enough, that new Windows computer is spewing out email ads for offshore casinos, and SUPERLOW!!! mortgage rates, and \/1@gra and (1@li5, and God knows what else.

And it took just 20 minutes.

Well, we've rebotted, manually cleaned the stuff individually and spent countless hours trying to fight it, but have to admit defeat. It is only getting worse and now our computer had been hijacked by some stupid site that has crippled it and won't let me go to any other sites.

We had to call in expert help. I won't bore you with the details, but after finding half a dozen trojan horses and 850 infected files, he has nuked the machine and re-installed Windows XP again. Plus beefed up the security.

It's not been a happy experience.

And our digital camera is still AWOL.

And it's windy and rainy.

Not happy!

Hey! Who turned off the warmth? Did someone leave the fridge door open or forget to pay the heating bills or something? Whatever the reason, suddenly summer is well and truly over. Damn! Even the leaves are turning yellow. I'm not sure I'm quite ready for this just yet.

This week has been really busy. We've stripped the boat, taken off her mast, raised her on land and started the process of treating her for the osmosis. *sigh*

It was a lot of work. We've had Fiona for three years now and as she's a second home to us, we've manged to accumulate the usual paraphernalia that one gathers around oneself. What the hell is all this crap? To add to the problem, we don't have a car, so everything had to be hauled back home on numerous trolley trips. As the temperatures will fall well below zero in the coming months, absolutely everything had to be removed (mostly to guard against moisture damage or mould developing).

Once it was home, we came to the "Where will we store it?" dilemma, as we only live in a tiny apartment. So now all of our storage spaces are crammed full, the matresses from the boat are stacked up in our living room, the wind generator is sitting on the desk and yesterday I discovered that the deflated dinghy was laid out on my kitchen table!



Fortunately that was not to be a permanent thing. Lars-Göran just needed room to roll it up to fit in it's storage bag. Thank goodness.

The other amazing thing I've discovered is just how many ropes my sea dog of a husband has managed to squirrel away. There were several hundred kilos of them. All shapes and sizes. They were stored away in boxes in the cock-pit area and even under the matresses in the sleeping areas. I admit I was getting rather worried that he was some kind of closet rope fetishist. Even he admits that maybe it is a little excessive and he promises me that he'll weed out the extras over winter.

Then it was time to take off the mast. I don't have a picture of our mast being removed, but this one we took of another boat will give you the idea.



It takes a few people to get these monsters on land. We were so lucky to have our friend Ulf to help us. He is very efficent, knows what he is doing and above all - he's really calm! But boy was it heavy. Even he was surprised that our mast weighed so much more than his, despite being 4m shorter. One of the previous owners of the boat worked for the mast manufacturer and he had changed the original mast for a special re-inforced type. The mast steps also add to the weight.

Then it was time to take her up on land, where the full extent of the damage became apparent. We had sort of half hoped that we had been wrong when we first saw the blisters back in May. Isn't denial a wonderful thing? But there was no mistaking it now.



Fortunately, it was still in the early stages and not too deep. We had been researching the best method of treating the problem and most people agree that the first step is to open up these blisters and let the fluid inside them drain. The best method for that was sandblasting the hull. This is very specialised work as the gelcoat layer is only 1mm thick. If you go too deep, you can risk damaging the laminate underneath.

After asking around and getting quotes (several of those expensive enough to make your eyes water), we chose a firm to come out and do it. We were all set to document it when our digital camera decided to die. What bad timing! We tried everything, but not a spark of life was evident. Luckily, Ulf came to the rescue again and loaned us his camera for the day. We took ours down to the local dealer who is sending it to Canon. We should hear back in a week or so about what is wrong with it. A week without a camera! Will we survive?

Anyway, bright and early on a crisp autumn Monday, the guy arrived and set to work. If you look carefully at the picture, you can just see him (he unfortunately is wearing a jumper the same colour red as the hull!)



It took quite a few hours of steady work to get her clean strip away the paint and gelcoat. She still has to be hand sanded back a bit then left to dry out for winter. We are arranging for someone to come and measure the moisture level in the hull and make sure it's completely dry before adding the epoxy next spring. She looks so lonely all by herself on the wharf.



But it won't be long before the other boats join her on land. Meanwhile we have to treat and store the mast, conserve the engine with ant-freeze and empty out the water systems. That ought to keep us busy for a bit.

This is a little sad, as we go out for our last sailing this year. We usually stay in the water all year and this is the first time we’ve hauled her out. Why? We have osmosis (called böldpest here in Sweden) in the hull. It looks like little blisters on the area under the waterline. These can cause serious damage to the fibreglass if left too long, so we have decided to repair her before it is too serious.

But before then, we go out on a last sailing trip to farewell the local waters until next summer. First stop was one of our favourite islands of Utö. It was lovely sailing up there in these familiar waters. Sunshine and strong winds makes it a fast trip. We don't like the main guest harbour, so we decided to head in a couple of nautical miles south of there and drop anchor in the little bay by the church. On this map, the main harbour is marked by a green dot, with the church's bay a little further south is marked by an anchor.

Why am I crapping on about this? Well, because today we saw a prime example of sloppy seamanship by a couple of boats out on the water with us. And these were big, expensive boats. As I said, we were NOT going to the guest harbour. So as we turned off the main route, we were rather surprised to see these two boats behind us turn off at the same time. Where were they going? Nobody (apart from us) ever anchors in Kyrkviken and there certainly wasnt room for all of us in there. This was a bit annoying and stressful as we had to try and keep an eye on them as well as the depth meter and the surroundings in the tight, shallow route.

They followed us all the way there and looked really confused when they saw the church and watched us anchor. It was then that they realised that they were not where they thought they should be. As I said, expensive, well equipped boats with plotters, gps and all modern navigation instruments. Were they looking at them? Or just following us? Who knows. I know that I could never be out on the water and not know where I was at all times - even when we only had paper charts and no instruments.

Anyway, in the end we had the bay and the little church all to ourselves.



It's a really pretty little place that we discovered soon after we moved to this part of Sweden and we love the whole community here. In the morning, it was misty and guess what? We had more birds come to visit! This is all starting to sound a bit Alfred Hitchcock, isn't it? I was waiting for Tippi Hedren to appear out of the woods. But she didn't - there were only the birds.



We've never had them roost on the boat before we had our own birds onboard. While it was lovely at the time to listen to them chatter, we were less than impressed by the mess they left. After cleaning up, we head to another of our favourite spots, Östermarsfladen on the island of Nåttarö. It is cloudy today, but still the sky looks magnificent as we head southwards.



It is fairly quiet here, so we come in and moor at the pier near the beach. Normally this is quite crowded and we prefer the solitude of lying by anchor, but there are only two other boats here so we decide it will be quiet enough.



It fascinates me that you can choose a spot to anchor at in a big place like this, then another boat will come into the bay and tie up right next to you. If I'm in that position, I choose a place far away so that we can all have peace and privacy. I've discussed this with friends here and their theory is that the person arriving second thinks that you've already cased out the place, worked out the best spot in terms of sunshine, protection from wind, waves etc and tied up in that prime position. They want to be as close as possible to "the best spot".

So, they told us their strategy when faced with this situation. My friend (Stina) strips off her top and goes up on deck. This causes a bit of a dilemma for the other boat. Especially if it's a couple in the other boat. The woman will think that her man will be staring at Stina going around topless on their boat. Meanwhile, the guy is scared that his wife will get upset if he even looks at the other boat. While this is happening, our friend Douglas pops his head up and looks around. So the guy on the other boat has to also worry that Douglas won't like him looking over towards Stina. They decide that it's all a bit too much and so go off and moor somewhere else. They assure us that it works every time.

Hmm... while it seemed a good idea while we sat sitting on their boat one summer evening eating home grown strawberries and drinking rosé, in practice I just somehow can't see myself doing it. Actually, if I went about the boat topless, I think I could clear the whole archipelago.

We went for a walk over to the other side of the island, with it's view over the open waters of Östersjön.



The plants that grow here reflect the barren, windswept nature of the place. It looks like heather clinging for dear life to the rocks and moss.



THe wind is coming from the east today, driving the waves into the rocks on the outside of the bay, While it is still and lake like inside, you can hear the roar of the water from the outside. It's quite a soothing sound to listen to as you drift off to sleep. And it always looks great to see the waves crashing to the shore.



In the morning, we head west to our club island of Lacka, where we have arranged to meet up with some people who have the same boat type as ours. We all belong to a club - the OE Yacht Club of Scandinavia. The OE in the name refers to the initials of the boat's designer Olle Enderlein. While passing by the industrial harbour at Nynäshamn, we spotted a group of boats racing along the main fairway. When the Olympics were held in Stockholm in 1912, the sailing events took place here, so racing here has quite a long tradition.



We had really strong southerly winds today and we reached Lacka in only 50 minutes, which is very good, fast sailing. It was quite exhilarating to literally surf along on our 7 ton surfboard. And being the first there we grabbed "the best spot" *grin*

As other boats arrived, we all pitched in and helped them moor along side of us (don't worry, I kept my top on!) Here you can see the last ones to arrive being squeezed in between the other boats.



As you can see there were quite a few boats at the pier. I normally don't like such close contact, but in this case we know the people here quite well and everyone is interesting and fun to be with. These sorts of meetings are a chance for all of us to get together and swap information about our boats.



It looks really nice to see them all lined up together. It is a very peaceful outlook we have over the water towards Muskö. We discussed sailing around there. Even though it's so close to Nynäshamn, we've never really explored the area because a lot of the area is a no go zone, being owned by the Swedish navy. The charts are full of areas that are "Entry Prohibited" so we thought there was no way in for a boat our size. However, we learned that there is one narrow passage in, which our friend Björn marked on the chart for us, along with a few bays that he liked to visit. He painted such a great picture for us, that we decide we'll have to go there before we take the boat up.



In the afternoon we all go boat-hopping, checking out the other boats and discussing what we liked/didn't like about our boats and sharing knowledge. I love to do this. the OE-36 is a self built boat, not a factory produced one, so every interior is different. I've yet to see any two alike. Ours is unusual in that we have a mahogony interior wheras teak was much more common. Later, we all get together for a shared dinner, drinking and chatting long into the night. Check out the cask wine! Yes, we had Aussie wines there.



We made some new friends there, Bo and Anne who live not that far away at Tyresö. They have not owned their boat long and we had a long and very funny chat with them about the joys and frustrations of changing from a small sailing boat to a ship. They were a lovely, friendly couple and shared similar feelings about their boat. Both Bo and Lars-Göran are in love with their boats. Anne and I tease them a bit about "the other woman". We also swapped stories about mooring and steering disasters we have had. Our former boat was 6.8m long, weighed 1 ton and had a little outboard motor. She was easily steered and very light. The OE-36 on the other hand at just over 11m, weighing 7 tons and with a 38hp inboard motor is quite a different beast. (I know Lars-Göran is going to tell the boat I called her a beast). I joked with Anne that with our old boat, moving the tiller amounted to issuing an order and she obeyed instantly. With the OE-36, it's more a case of making a request, which she will think about and get back to you. Eventually. Maybe.



The other thing we spoke about was trying to get the men to see reson when it came to spending money on the boat. If we girls want something new, it's always "We can't afford it." But if the boat needs a new toy, well money is no option! The men think we are exaggerating and told each other they they may be the captains, but we women were the admirals when it came to the opening of the wallet! It was a lot of fun to get together for a weekend and we all swapped contact details (once we had sobered up) and then set off.



Heading back, we saw that it was Archipelago Day and there were a few boats at the harbour visiting - including a submarine from the nearby base at Muskö. So we set off to see what the area was like. On the following map, you can see the island of Yxlö in the botton left hand corner. It was here that we entered the main fjärd.



The line you see extending from Yxlö to Muskö is the main road. It doesn't pass over the water, but under the water, through a tunnel. We've been this way a couple of times. It was funny to know that while we were sailing by, cars were driving underneath us.

The next sight I saw looked like something out of a James Bond film:



I couldn't believe my eyes. Actual holes blasted in the mountainside. I'm sure the Swedish navy saw that on a Bond film. The submarine fleet is housed inside these mountain harbours and apparently there is a whole underground city there. Obviously you aren't allowed to get too close and there are many areas that are forbidden to enter, but we found quite a large area to explore and enjoy.



WE spent the night at a bay called Bukvarken (which translates as "stomach ache"). What a strange name for such a pretty little bay.

It was with a heavy heart that we finally returned to Nynäshamn knowing that we'd have to empty the boat, take off the mast and have her put in dry dock for the winter. We have had a nice sailing season, all things considered. With Lars-Göran's hands being do sore, it was looking doubtful that we would be able to go anywhere, so we were happy that we managed to do just over 500 NM this year. Maybe not such a great distance but we still had fun.

Next season (I can't believe I'm already dreaming of next season - I have been in Sweden too long!) we are hoping to get to Höga Kusten and across to Finland. But first we have to fix the boat!