Time to move on and so we top up our water tanks and prepare to set sails for the 20 nautical mile trip across the bay to the outlying island group of Hallands Väderö.

On the way out of the harbour, we had a better chance to look around and noted how different it looked in broad daylight. When we came in here in the pitch black the other night, it was more or less via blind faith. We merely followed in a cargo ship, figuring that if he could fit through, so could we. There was so many different lights shining that it had been hard to sort out which were lighthouses or buoys and which were just harbour lights. Very confusing at the time, but so much clearer today. Of course a decent scale chart might have helped, too. I must ask Lasse about that.

The sail across was strange - the seas constantly changed directions, the sun shone then disappeared behind swirling clouds, the wind was flaky and couldn't make up it's mind whether to blow or not. We faced a constant battle to increase sail, decrease sail, start the motor, stop the motor, sail straight, try tacking etc that it became quite a battle. Fiona is also sailing very slowly at the moment, so we really are going to have to check her bottom for barnacle growth. Let's hope we will have a warm day tomorrow so I can nominate Lars-Göran to dive under and check the hull.

I was really nervous as we approached the island group and sought shelter as these islands are full of reefs, but we took it slowly, used the chart on our GPS and soon found ourselves in a popular bay with several other boats - all foreign!




Hallands Väderö, despite its name lies not in Halland, but rather in north west Skåne. It's possible that back in the mists of time when this was Danish territory, this area was also part of Halland. No-one really remembers the reason for that name anymore. The island is 3.2 km long and only 650 meters wide and has quite a varied terrain, being made up of woods, marshland, open pasture and rocky beaches. There are a couple of sand beaches on the other side of the island, which we hope to explore - wind permitting. The other added advantage of being out here is that very little rain falls and it has the second highest average temperature in Sweden.




Because the winds are blowing from the north west today, we are in Kappelhamn, on the south east corner of the island. I'd really like to visit the lighthouse, which of course is furthest away from where we are. Still, it's only just over 3 kilometres to walk - far less than what we had to do in Falkenberg!

It is lovely and warm today and more and more boats arrive from Torekov, on the mainland. Many of those are daytrippers and the traffic going past is almost constant. We have set up shelter and the birds are sunning themselves and sqawking at the passing boats, which is a real hit with the kids. Lars-Göran did dive under the boat and reports that, as we expected, there is quite a lot of growth on the hull. He scraped some of it away, but it looks like she will need to be hauled out to really clean her properly.

The next day, the early morning forecast predicted that the wind would turn to the south west, so before breakfast, we moved the boat around to Sandhamn. We decided to take the zodiac into land after Lars-Göran looked through his binoculars and spotted a kiosk on the island - and that means ICECREAM.

We bought his precious icecream and followed the well marked trail around to the lighthouse. It was a fascinating walk, taking us through the woods, along the coast, over marshes and across open grassland. As it was a hot day and poor Lambi is really feeling the heat in her old age, we enjoyed the shady woods the best. They were full of wood anemones and small groups of grazing sheep. We also ran into a group of very curious horses.




They were really eager to investigate Lambi. Obviously they had never seen a fluffy white dog before and they were utterly fascinated, following her and staring really closely and intently, which freaked her out a bit. Luckily, pappa was there to pick her up and protect her from the horses. What a softie he is!

After a long, hot trudge, we came to the north west corner of the island and saw the lovely red cottage that used to be the lighthouse keeper's home. This was surrounded by a herd of contentedly grazing cows. The lighthouse was manned from 1887 until 1965 and the keeper and his family lived here all year round. Today has been converted into small apartments that are rented out to summer guests. What a fabulous location and a beautiful view.




A mere 250m further along was the lighthouse itself, sitting on Bagganäsan and pointing out across the waters of Kattegatt. When you look at the calm, summer waters you can hardly believe that a lighthouse would be needed here. But in fact, during a severe storm in 1884, five ships went down off this coast with the loss of all lives and this tragedy was the catalyst for the erection of a lighthouse. A thirteen meter iron structure was built in Stockholm, then shipped here to this isolated, windswept spot in pieces and bolted together.




As with the lighthouses at Nord Koster, Måseskär and Nidingen which we passed earlier in the summer, Hallands Väderö is another weather station mentioned in the daily wind reports we get on our VHF, thanks to our subscription to Stockholm Radio. It's been interesting to visit all of these places and put a "face to a name" so to speak.




We took a different route back to the zodiac and this brought us out onto a sandy beach which was packed with summer guests. Many of them streamed over on ferries from the mainland, loaded down with picnic baskets, kids, dogs and even strollers. I'd never seen anyone pushing a stroller on the beach before. Fiona is one of the boats moored happily in the bay.




It really is an outstanding view from the island, looking across the water to the mainland. The coastline you can see is Hallandsåsen, an imposing 200m high ridge that dominates the border area between the provinces of Halland and Skåne. It is a unique landscape in Sweden, so unlike anything I've seen here to date. I could almost believe that we are in another country. The air is really warm, the breeze is balmy and the water is warm. No wonder it is such a popular place for family holidays.




The final stretch through the flower filled woods was like stepping into another world - a real, storybook forest. I looked around expecting to see Goldilocks come skipping by on her way to the bears' home or perhaps Little Red Riding Hood stopping to pick a bunch of wildflowers on her way to see her grandma. Quite beautiful.

We returned to the boat quite rejuvenated and sat outside sunning ourselves and looking at some of the boats around us. One Danish boat made us laugh as the crew sat on these ridiculous seats built in to the aft of the boat. We called them "knob chairs" as they looked like a couple of idiots sitting high up surveying the peasants around them. Though in this pose, she looks like she's on the loo - it reminded me of the strange medieval toilet we saw at Läckö Slott.




We don't normally bitch about those around us, but these two were among the most thoughtless, selfish people I have come across. Every day they started their motor in order to charge their batteries. Quite why you would need to do that every day is something of a mystery - were they growing dope in there? Anyway, as soon as they started the motor, they hopped in their dinghy and went to land where they stayed for three or four hours, leaving the engine running. I guess they didn't want to be annoyed by the noise and the diesel fumes - what a pity that the other dozen boats moored around them had to put up with it. Talk about completely clueless! What a pity this wasn't somewhere in the Med where trheives would have stolen the boat as soon as they were out of sight. By day three, even I was sorely tempted....

Next day, the wind shifted back to north, so we nipped around the corner back to the bay at Kappelhamn where the waters were calm and still. This time we went for a walk around this part of the island, which was more marshy than the northern part.




The wind sweeps across these more open plains and the fields were dotted with grazing animals. It was quite a contrast to the woods we saw yesterday and also to the more rocky beaches. It is easy to understand why they call this place "Skåne's west coast archipelago in minature" - it really is it's own little world.

Several of the rocky islands offshore are in a seal protection zone and apparently support about 400 seals, though I didn't see any of them while we were here. We did however see several types of birds, including one of our favourites - sädesärla (pied wagtail).




These busy, delicate little birds, instantly recognisable with their bold black, grey and white plumage and long, frequently wagged tail are always a joy to watch. They approach quite close as well and we even have them visiting the boat and resting on the rails. They were not the only visitors we had. Lambi managed to collect no less than FIVE ticks while she was walking on land, which is unbelievable. I thank god that she is white, so the little buggers are easy to spot before they get a grip on her. *shudder*




We have enjoyed three restful days on this enchanted island, walking around, breathing in the clean, fresh air and marvelling at the beautiful surroundings. This will be the last island group we can visit until we get to Blekinge on the east coast. From now onwards, down the 400 kilometres of sandy beaches which makes up the coast of Skåne we will have to stay in harbours. While I will miss the freedom of being able to lie by anchor in my own little world, I am looking forward to seeing some of the towns in southern Sweden. All being well, we set sail tomorrow towards Kullen lighthouse and beyond.

Denial is such a wonderful thing, isn't it?

Last night, in the spirit of that superb sunset and the appearance of the most spectacular full moon, we relaxed with a glass of wine and only listened with half a mind to the weather forecast. They had promised a windshift to south east, which would send waves across the bay and straight to where were were moored out in the open. "But it's only going to be four metres per second" we thought. "We'll be fine".

Famous last words or what?

By 1.30am we were rocking violently in the increasing waves. They don't call this place Little Biscay for nothing. I thought we were going to be thrown out of bed, so in the pitch black we had to get up, batten down the hatches, secure the bird cage and prepare to head in to a sheltered harbour. Our first pyjamas åkning!

This was perhaps not the best time to discover that we were missing one chart - number 923 to be specific. You know..... the one for this bit of coastline. We had loaned our charts last year to a friend who was picking up a boat in Göteborg and I hadn't checked them thoroughly to see whether they were all there when he returned them. Oops.....

The chart would have given us a detailed map of the harbour at Halmstad. We were moored between Grötvik and Halmstad, so the waves were sweeping across the whole bay to just this point. We have an electronic chart of the area and a ship's pilot guide with a black and white line drawing of the harbour area, so I hauled them up into the cockpit to look at them and started the motor while Lars-Göran went to the fore to draw up the anchor.

It wasn't cold, though the wind was starting to blow strongly. We had discussed the way we were going to do this as it required team work and you know, it went without a hitch and soon we were loose and I was driving towards the lights of the harbour (not easy to pick out among all of the other lights in the town!). Lars-Göran hurried back to the cockpit and took over the driving, assuring me that it was "a piece of cake" to get into the harbour (Hamnen är lätt att hitta även utan navigationshjälpmedel)

Hmmm..... where have I heard that before?

We found the shipping channel and turned towards land, scanning the shore for the harbour's leading light. I had noticed a boat behind us (at 2am??) and saw that it was gaining rapidly, so I mentioned it to Lars-Göran. He hadn't seen it at all as he was so intent on driving and trying to find the entrance and he got a shock when he turned and saw an enormous cargo ship bearing down on us. He made a large turn to get out of the way and as it passed, I couldn't resist saying "Follow that ship!" as it would of course lead us straight into the harbour. Which it did.

We had no idea where anything was in this harbour, so we found a temporary spot near the mast crane and tied up for the night, awakening the next day to this view.




What a fabulous contrast between the old and the new, with the grain silos and timber piled up on the piers and these elegant sailing ships gliding by. In daylight, we could see the harbour really well and we moved the boat to a bay near the boat club, exactly opposite this pier and dropped anchor. I thought after the crazy night we had, a lazy day would be in order, so I stripped the beds and washed the sheets, towels etc setting them up to dry in the warm sunshine. I had planned to spend the day reading my book (Dai Sijie's Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress), lazing on the deck under my umbrella with a cool drink. But that was interrupted when another gorgeous sailing ship came into view.




WE both wondered what was going on up river. I looked at my guest harbour guide and saw that this week, Halmstad was hosting the international Baltic Sail Festival which featured several of these gracious old sailing vessels. Well, we had to go and see what it was all about, didn't we?

We put the motor on the zodiac and motored up the Nissan River and into Halmstad itself, where the festival was in full swing. The boats are often chartered out during the day, so many of them were headed out into the bay with paying guests on board. We thought we may have a look at the town again while we were here and while the weather held.

This lovely town dates back to the thirteenth century and had lovely wide streets and boulevards. I believe that in the middle ages it was the biggest town on the west coast, though today, with 90,000 inhabitants it is no longer a metropolis. There are some beautiful buildings on the river, including the castle (now the tourist bureau, no less) built in the 17th century by King Christian IV of Denmark.




I love the warm colours of this building and the towers with their interesting curved rooftops pointing up into the clear blue sky. In the main square, where the weekly market was in full swing lies the beautiful medieval church of St Nikolai. A devestating fire in 1619 razed most of Halmstad and this church was one of few buildings that survived the fire.




The town was really buzzing today, with many, many visitors crowding the streets and squares and sounds of eating, drinking and laughter echoing around the many cafés and restaurants. It is a happy place and there is a great, friendly atmosphere here. Neither of us particularly likes crowded, stressful places but we felt quite at ease in Halmstad. People were smiling and friendly and the pace was fast, but not pushy and frantic like it can be in Stockholm.




We had been to Halmstad in November five years ago on our journey home with "Fiona". We came here to escape a huge autumn storm that was about to hit and stayed several days on that occasion. While we were here, we had bought some waterproof gloves and warm boots for me (badly needed and much appreciated) and we had been impressed with the town and all that it offers.

In the main shopping street, we noticed that every shoe shop was having a sale. Could we possibly buy more shoes here? We spent an enjoyable afternoon looking at the shops (yes, we bought shoes!), checking out the books on sale at the Salvo's shop (what a bargain!), finding some decent sunglasses for Lars-Göran (not before time!), buying and writing postcards and eating icecream. We tramped all over town and returned, loaded up with parcels, to our zodiac which was tied up to a ledge on the river bank.




We were tired, but very happy with today's haul and thought we could come back up the river in the morning to see some more of the boats.

The following day, it was overcast and drizzly and we spent the morning onboard making plans and enjoying the parade of fine sailing ships that went past us at regular intervals. I think we must have had the best seat in the house!




The boats were from several different countries and we noticed flags from Holland, Germany, Denmark, Lithuania, Poland as well as the blue and gold of Sweden. The schooners simply glided past so gracefully that it was a pleasure to sit there and admire them.




When they came back into port in the afternoon, we cranked up the zodiac again and went up the river to see them all lined along the bank, with the timber masts arranged like a big forest of trees. People were visiting the boats and reading their history from plaques that were arranged on boards at each morring place. Most of them began life as working boats - tug boats, cargo ships, herring luggers etc and have been lovingly restored by their owners and used these days as pleasure boats. I read on a couple of the boards that they even had a jacuzzi!




On the opposite bank, right outside of the tourist office, the beautiful old school ship "Najaden", lies berthed. She is a permanent fixture here in Halmstad. She was built as a training ship by the Swedish navy in Karlskrona and launched in 1897. She was used as a fully rigged training ship until 1938 and afterwards was bought by a Halmstad businessman and used as a tourist attraction for the city.




Even though it was cool and overcast, the view looking down the river towards the harbour was lovely. We have the busy guest harbour in the foreground, the sight of the awe inspiring sailing ships behind them and far in the distance, the storage silos, which can be seen from far out at sea, like skyscrapers rising from the landscape. It is a study in contrasts from various ages.




The Dutch ships were particularly dominant and seemed to go out with passengers more often than the others. The shore was lined with enthusiasts waiting to watch the passing parade and we never tired of seeing these boats go by. What a stroke of luck to have been here while this festival was going on. It has fired us with real enthusiasm for the Tall Ship's festival to be held in Stockholm next year. Remember Bethy, we are tying up to your lovely boat on Strandvägen for that!




What a lovely, restful and fun couple of days we have had in Halmstad. We are thinking of leaving in the morning and heading for a small island group out off the edge of this bay. You just can't keep us away from islands, can you? The only slightly worrying thing is that we have no paper chart for the area. We have an overview chart, that you need a strong magnifying glass to see in detail, though we do have the electronic chart. I shouldn't worry, but I like to see the paper chart and be able to plot the course and see the rocks. But Lars-Göran is confident and declares it "a piece of cake".

Oh dear.....

It is another glorious summer morning with hardly a breeze inside the harbour area. We had an early night last night, so we found ourselves wide awake at sparrow's fart. Nothing was stirring, not even the moat monster, as we sat in the cockpit eating our breakfast and contemplating the day ahead while the sun rose in a clear blue sky. I love this time of day, having been a morning person from way back. I always bounce out of bed, ready for the day, bright and chirpy. This often throws poor Lars-Göran who needs a slow start and several jolts of pure caffeine before his brain engages.

Fortunately, we filled up with water and diesel last night, so all we have to make up our minds about is whether we will shop here then continue down the Halland coast, or sail first, then shop at our next stop. I studied the guides and coastal register we have onboard, measured distances, listened to the forecast (nice, hot day with bugger all wind) and decided that Falkenberg seemed to be the obvious next port. As our guide described it as having a small town's charm and the guest harbour was apparently up a river close to centrum and they appeared to have a large supermarket and booze shop it was perfect for our needs. Lars-Göran, who was still half asleep agreed readily, thinking that the trip would give him a bit of time to wake up.

The coastline around here is aften seen as a boring transport stretch, with no archipelago, miles and miles of open beaches, few harbours and where Kattegatt's waves come crashing towards you from all directions. I should explain that the North Sea changes names from Skagerrak to Kattegatt just south of Göteborg as you can see on this map.




How it came to have this name is probably not a story for polite company, but then I'm sure you won't be offended if I tell you. Just don't tell Sister Margaret that you heard it from me! Kattegat apparently derives from the Dutch words Kat (cat) and Gat (hole). It began in medieval times, where sea captains spoke disparagingly of this area as being "as narrow as a cat's hole". I guess they were possibly referring to the area around Helsingborg, which is a very narrow passage, at just a tad under four kilometres wide. Sailors are well-known for their use of, shall we say, "colourful language", so one might paraphrase them and announce that the Kattegat is considered the anus of the Baltic. In this, they are similar to the port of Melbourne, which my uncles who were fishermen in the area, always referred to as "the arsehole of Australia", because of the shape of Port Phillip Bay (among other reasons...)

We began the day driving by motor, but a little later a breeze arrived and we could sail a perfect course towards Falkenberg, which lay around 25 nautical miles to our south. It was a tough day for everyone on board *grin*




We were lucky enough to have sufficent wind to sail up the river Ätran, right to the guest harbour. It was late in the afternoon when we finally arrived and we set off for town straight away despite the heat. While supermarkets stay open until quite late in the evening, the grog shop would shut at 6pm. Now according to the guide I had, the shopping area was described as being "på promenadavstånd" (walking distance) from the guest harbour. Well, perhaps it might be if your name was Robert Korzeniowski! But for us mere mortals, it turned into a nightmare trip.

To begin with, it was around a kilometre and a half just to get to the bridge in order to cross the river.




Lambi found the 30C heat far too much and we had to make frequent stops to give her water and let her rest in the shade, even taking turns to carry her. Once over bridge, we came to the older part of town with lovely wooden houses dating from the mid eighteenth century. Under normal circumstances we would have loved to stop and admire them, but we were pressed for time and thought we may quickly shop and then take an evening stroll later on and admire the surroundings.




The main part of town was starting to come into view and we walked another kilometre along the streets, which were an interesting blend of old and new, but we could see no sign of a supermarket nor of systemet and time was ticking on. In the main drag, there were shops selling every conceivable thing except food and wine! We were getting hot, tired and annoyed as each minute passed and muttered curses at the people who had written in the guest harbour guides that centrum was "nearby". Obviously nearby can mean anything from a few metres up till five kilometres.




Eventually we asked someone where these shops might be hiding. They explained the complicated way to get to the wine shop and I left Lars-Göran to extract the rest of the information while I dashed there before closing time. We met outside and he said that apparently there were no supermarkets in centrum (the first time I've struck this in Sweden) and so we would have to walk another kilometre or two out into the suburbs to shop. Poor Lambi was melting by this stage, so I suggested he go back with her to the boat and I'd shop myself and join them later, but he thought it wasn't a good idea and so we went on together. As it turned out, that was wise as I would never have found the place myself as it was very well hidden!

I bought everything I needed, loaded up my trusty granny-trolley and we set off for the boat. Lars-Göran, in a fit of male stupidity, was sure there must be a shorter way and proceeded to lead us on a very scenic but LONG route back to the river, along the bank, up side streets, past barriers that had been set up for a jazz festival etc. By this time I was ready to drop on the spot and die, but somehow we managed to stagger back on board - at nearly 8pm!




I had already prepared most of dinner and it finished cooking while I stood under a welcome shower and washed the dust from my poor weary body and Lars-Göran enjoyed a cold beer. Needless to say, there was no casual evening walk.

The following day was also hot and clear with no wind, but we had had enough of the joys of Falkenberg and set off bright and early. Like yesterday, we went by motor at forst, then we were able to raise the sails as the breeze picked up and we glided by the shore, enjoying the pretty coastline.




After weeks of looking at the bare rocks of Bohuslän, the coastline of Halland with its rich agricultural land dotted with lighthouses, wind power stations and tilled fields makes a lovely change. There is a gentleness about the landscape that contrasts with the rugged coastline north of here, though looks can be deceptive and this area of Sweden has been subject to violent wars during its history.




The pretty windmill in this photo is called Särdals kvarn and lies just above the harbour of Skallkroken. It was a working grain mill until the late 1960s, though now it is a listed building and houses an outlet specialising in local produce. It is also a wonderful sea marker.




It is even warmer today than it was yesterday and the beaches are packed with people. From our boat, they look like colourful pebbles on the shore and when I look at them through my binoculars, it teems like a colony of ants. It is interesting to see the beaches from this angle, with the wheatfields in the background and cows grazing in the meadows. It reminded me of the countryside around the beaches on the south coast of Adelaide like Willunga and Aldinga.




We passed the hotel at Tylösand and they seemed to be enjoying a bumper season, with people lining the shores and frolicking in the water as well as skiing and hang gliding. Tylösand has been a well known beach paradise since the nineteenth century and boasts 7 kilometers of beautiful sandy beaches as well as rocks for the sunworshippers to bake themselves brown and the blue, foaming waters as a backdrop. As you can see, on fine summer days the beach below Hotel Tylösand can be as crowded as any around the Mediterranean. The "in-crowd" apparently dominate the area, and during summer afternoons they go in to the Hotel for their famous "After Beach". Sounds like a place to avoid, if you ask me.

By now, the wind had died completely, so we looked at the chart to try and find somewhere close by for the night. We are quite close to Halmstad, though we don't really want to go all of the way into the deep bay (Laholms bukten) to get there. As there is no wind, we drop anchor nearby on the northern shore of the bay and watch the passing traffic.




This returning fisherman seems to be very popular with the local seagull population. I can't tell you what a joy it is to see bird life again after missing their joyful cries all summer. In the distance you can see the high cliffs that make up the southern shore (Hallandsåsen) of this bay and you can also see that there is barely a ripple on the water.

We enjoy our evening gin and tonic and a light dinner of smoked fish and salad while enjoying the beautiful display of clouds and setting sun. I love these long, summer evenings especially when we are gently rocking on the boat in a quiet bay.




Can there be a more perfect end to a summer's day?



We have a really soft spot for Halmstad as we found people to be invariably friendly and helpful on our last visit here, so we are thinking that we might mosey on up the river in the morning and visit the town just for old time's sake. There is rain forecast, but that won't put a dampener on our mood as we will welcome a little cloud cover after the last days of blazing sunshine. It is a reminder, too that although there are many golden days still to come, it will not be long before autumn makes an appearance.

This morning we are feeling really torn about what to do. It has taken quite an effort and a not inconsiderable amount of money (for us, anyway) to get this far and it seems too early to be heading home already. On the other hand, we haven't really enjoyed the trip as much as we'd expected to. We've talked a bit about why that is so and have found no real answer. We've not had any major problems with the boat, we still enjoy being onboard but there seems to be too many days when we are simply doing transport stretches of sailing, rather than the sort of weaving here and there and exploring that we like to do. Neither of us had any idea that those opportunities would be so restricted on the west coast. We also had no idea that there would be so many people sailing here and so few decent anchorages because of the prevailing winds and waves.

We decide that for today, we are not going to put in the long and tiring 35 to 40 nautical mile stretches we have been doing lately and instead, we'll take it easy and perhaps pop just across to the ten islands which makes up the northern archipelago. I had previously been fascinated by seeing tiny communities with narrow lanes and pretty pastel wooden houses with fancy carpentry.




The day begins well and soon we are heading into the main strait between the islands of Björkö and Öckerö. About 12,000 people live on these islands, which have a car ferry service direct to Göteborg. This makes it a popular place to live - you can get the best of both worlds with a calm, peaceful environment and the sea being so close by, plus good access to "the big smoke". The Norwegian boats have not been in evidence today, but they have been replaced by an army of boats from Germany and Denmark (with a few hardy Brits and Dutchmen thrown into the mixture). It is a lovely day for sailing.




We have winds directly on the nose again, so we have to tack and this is not always easy in a busy strait with weekend traffic in all shapes and sizes buzzing around us. We have also noticed that Fiona seems to be a little sluggish in the water. She is not sailing with her usual strong, wave-splitting motion and we think that her hull must have a lot of barnacle growth after being in the salty North Sea. We use ant fouling paint on the underwater sections of the boat to help to prevent the buildup of barnacles and other organisms, which in turn reduces the drag on the hull and makes her faster. As the very effective paints are highly toxic to marine life, they have been banned in Sweden since the early 1990's, so we have to use quite useless paint which the barnacles seem to love. Lars-Göran thinks he might take a dive under the hull while the weather is still warm and check out what is happening.




The combination of adverse winds, heavy boat traffic and the sluggish sailing of the boat starts to grate on Lars-Göran, so I suggest that perhaps, yet again, it is not the day for such a trip, so we head out to sea at a convenient opening between the islands and sail towards the southern archipelago instead.

Along the way, we pass the very distinctive sea markers at the island of Vinga.




This is also a place we would have liked to visit, especially as it has become famous as the childhood home of one of Sweden's best loved singers, Evert Taube. It also has a lot of historical significence as the previous border between Norway and Denmark was here and with the main harbour at Göteborg in the distance and the bare, windswept rocks it looked a really fascinating island. Unfortunately for us, there is no decent night harbour here. There is a deep bay which faces west, so it can only be used in stable weather with winds from the east. Even so, huge cargo ships pass by almost constantly and the swell from these can be driven into the unprotected bay. So on we go, out into the ever increasing waves, looking for some shelter.





We crossed the main shipping lanes into Gothenburg, with their huge bright red and green buoys and just south-east of Vinga, we looked at a horseshoe-shaped island (Stora Rävholmen) as a possible anchorage. However, it was also quite open to the west and the strong surf was rolling in. By this time, we were almost resigned to going back to the mainland and had even thought of mooring at the wharf where we picked up the boat five years ago. But, on the spur of the moment, we decided to just try a narrow, shallow opening that appeared to lead into some sheltered waters. I also recalled that SKX had a buoy in the area, but knew that it was unlikely to be free at this time of the year.

By now, it was after 6pm and on the way into the inner bay, I counted 30 or boats moored to the cliffs. However, right inside where we wanted to be there were only a few boats and the buoy was available, so we quickly snaffled it and congratulated ourselves on this turn of luck as a big blow was forecast for later. As the wind picked up, it sorted out those inadequately moored, with some retiring to sea and others heading towards our bay. We had a good night with only light winds stirring our bay.




We explored the island in the morning. It is formed from rugged convoluted granite, much veined with quartz and covered with patches of springy turf, supporting a small flock of recently shorn sheep. I was glad to find the sheep as I could have sworn that I heard bleating overnight but didn't say anything in case I was going insane and starting to hear things. There was even a discrete hut with toilets and rubbish collection facilities. It was hot again (30C) in the morning, so the noble ideas of some boat maintenance quickly evaporated, and as we were in a lazy mood, we decided to stay another night. The wind howled and blew strongly and we even had a wind shift, so we re-anchored a little further into the bay and relaxed in the sunshine with a good book and a glass of wine.




This has been one of the nicest places that we have stayed on the west coast. We discuss perhaps spending a little time in this island group, but a quick look at the chart shows us that there are very few places that we could use as a harbour and really, while it's nice here, it's nothing to rip your nightie over, if you get my drift. So we'll have to just bite the bullet and start heading southwards. We pass several fishing towns, like the one on Dönsö. This time they really are genuine fishing harbours, rather than the tarted up tourist fishing harbours we have seen further north. These islands all have ferry links to Göteborg, so you can live here and have a half hour commute over the water for work. It sounds like an idyllic life.




Today we have half-wind sailing, so it is fast and smooth at around 6 knots. The sun is shining and now that we have made the decision to just keep going down the coast, it feels as though a weight has been lifted from my mind. We know that the islands end here and that we have to face staying at harbours behind seawalls for now onwards but it still feels good to be headed towards home. We savour the last few glimpses of islands before we reach open water. There is a brisk wind, so we hope we can make Varberg by this evening. Yes, I know, another 40 nautical mile day.




There are a lot of family groups out walking on the islands. Many of them come across from the mainland in small motor boats, so they are able to moor in the shallow waters and enjoy a welcome day in the sunshine by the sea. We approach the lighthouse at Valö and know that this marks the end of the archipelago and that we won't see another one until we reach Blenkinge on the east coast.




Once past the fringe of islands, the sea is rougher, but we also have room to move and feel free because we no longer have to watch out for shoals, just set a course and sail. There is surprisingly little boat traffic now and that also adds to our feeling of euphoria. After weeks and weeks of dodging boats we are all alone. Or almost. Very occasionally a bot passes by, heading northwards. One of the most striking was this superb wooden boat from Germany - what a beauty!




As we are far out from land in order to keep to our course, the view is not all that fascinating until we get to the lighthouse at Nidingen. For those who listen to the VHF weather, you'd know this lighthouse as one of the boundaries of coast stretches they report. It is built on a reef about five nautical miles offshore and its name speaks for itself - Niding (meaning vandal or hooligan) is a dangerous place, a real ship's graveyard with over 700 wrecks literring the waters. It was thought that in the past, bands of "nidingar" lured the ships onto the reef in order to plunder them.




The island itself is only a kilometre long and a few hundred metres wide. You can't mistake the unique twin towers, which was constructed like that so it could be easily distinguished from the light at Skagen. There were no sign of nidingar today and we passed by without incident. Had it been a little earlier in the day and the weather a little more calm we may have anchored and taken a walk around, but it was no place to try and stay the night as it was so exposed.

Late in the evening, the powerful fortress at Varberg came into view and we started our engine and headed into the harbour, past the magnificent building, constructed between 1287-1300 by Count Jacob Nielsen as protection against the Danish king, who had declared him an outlaw after the murder of King Eric V of Denmark. Don't you love these royal squabbles?




Apparently this summer some people started a rumour that the moat has it's own "moat monster" - a brown, furless creature that has been witnessed emerging from the water and eating a duck! Hmmm... I notice that this was reported in the sensationalist afternoon rag Aftonbladet, so it's probably not true. Or the witnesses were well and truly sloshed. Or maybe both! I only know that if I mention this to Lars-Göran as something I saw on an Aftonbladet newsboard, he'll look at me with contempt.

(edited to add later - It has even spread to the mainstream media)




The other striking building you can see in front of the harbour is the Kallbadhus, which was built in the 1820's when Varberg was a fashionable spa resort where the idle rich came to "take the waters" in the belief that it could cure all kinds of ailments. I think it has a bit of an oriental look - can't you picture it in some Indian palace?




Of course the guest harbour was jammed with boats and there was not one spare place to moor. This is what I was afraid we would meet by returning so early in the season, but we are going to have to grin and bear it as there are no other options. A boat club in a nearby bay at Getterön had space to take Fiona, so we managed to take Lambi to land, buy an icecream and enjoy the warm summer evening. I'd like to do a little shopping in the next day or two, so I hope that may be here in Varberg, which looks an interesting town. And I'd like to see if I can spot that moat monster. I didn't have any luck spotting Nessie when I visited Scotland a few years back, so I figure I'm due for some good fortune. Do you think it eats toy poodles?

I can’t wait to leave in the morning. I find this scenery so depressing that I long to be somewhere that there is a little life. We pack up quickly and make our way gingerly out through Kråksundsgap. The wind is quite strong again today and once out of the protection of the islands, the sea is still somewhat rough.




Apparently in the 1970s a large cargo ship was tossed up onto these rocks in a storm, so one can’t be too careful. For smaller boats, there is a tiny, winding inner passage, but it is considered much more macho to go through the gap (“Är du karl så tar du Gapet”). Lars-Göran puts on his very best Clint Eastwood/Dirty Harry face and quips “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do!” so the gap it is! Luckily this display of male pride went without a hitch. I was reading about a guy in the nineteenth century who made the same remark when he was sailing home in a small skiff with his brand new bride and her dowry (a fine milking cow). The skiff overturned in the rough water of "the gap" and all three of them had to swim to land. I bet he got an earful when they came ashore!




Just past "the gap", we come again to the pretty town of Mollösund – another place on my wish list. While it is touted as a genuine fishing village, the truth is that the fish have pretty much died out in this stretch of the coast and the fishing nets strung here and there are more for decoration these days. Any fresh fish on sale more than likely arrived here via truck from Norway. It buzzes in the summer, full to the brim with visiting boats from Norway, Denmark, Germany and Holland and a glance at the guest harbour shows us that yet again we will have to give it a miss.




You really can’t even fit a rowboat into that mess. This is another disappointment as the older part of the town, far away from the pubs and cafés crowded around the harbour, with the pretty church and old fishing sheds look very inviting.




Much of the genuine old environment has been retained, with boatsheds, fishermen’s houses and piers. The old wooden houses with pretty leadlight windows crowd together along the narrow cobblestone streets and on top of the hill, the old windmill looks down on the town. There are also quite a few of the large wooden racks for drying fish. Here ling fish was treated with lye, to become the popular Christmas dish of lutfisk. Don't laugh, but I quite like lutfisk, though I cook it in a very unSwedish way, with onion, garlic, tomatoes, black olives, lemon juice and lashings of tabasco sauce and served on a mound of polenta. Yum, I am making myself hungry again.




I would also have liked to visit Mollö island, just across the water, as it is known for its cows. Every year cows are sent over by boat from the mainland to graze. These famous ecological Mollö cows are left to wander freely around the island all summer, before being ferried back to the mainland in the autumn. Sometimes apparently, the cows get bored and simply swim across the strait and head home themselves! The grass always being greener on the other side and all of that.... There proves to be nowhere to anchor, so we head on again.

This time, we decide to take the narrow inner route through Kyrkesund. We come to a tiny channel formed by a gully between two high cliffs. High above us, perched rather precariously on the smooth granite rocks we saw a flock of sheep.




I was worried that they might slip on the smooth shiny rocks, but they trotted around very confidently. The boat traffic was again very tight and it was quite stressful to be forced to do these acrobatic twists and turns around marker buoys while at the same time trying to avoid big, wide sailing and motor boats heading in both directions.




On shore, being a fine Sunday in July, the place was packed with people who arrived by boat and ferry and were lining up in the cafés and restaurants, outside the summer houses or just walking along the piers watching the sailing boats go by.




Apparently, this is nothing compared to the crowd they get here when the big boat race Tjörn Runt takes place in July. One cannot move that weekend for the crowd. I’m glad I’ll be missing that!

Yes, it is narrow and tight and very busy, but on a clear summer’s day, it is still very picturesque with the sun shining on the water and reflecting off the cliffs and the shore lined with former seamen’s cottages now renovated into summer homes.




As we were sailing at a nice, easy pace we could linger a little and look more closely at the homes on the shore. On front of many of the homes were private piers, with all kinds of boats bobbing in the water. Each section of the sound had its own unique character and there was a big variety of house size and types which made it quite interesting.




Among my favourites were the tiny little homes, some no more than a small room, but each built on the water with a fabulous view of the passing parade of boats all summer long. Mind you, I did wonder what it would be like here on a cold, dark autumn or winter day, though today, thoughts of that time of the year were far away as people fired up their bbq and set the table for a sunny lunch.




There are also some quite large homes and I dread to think what one of these might cost. I can't believe that these homes, worth many millions are only used in the summer. In winter these days, this is a ghost town. In previous years, this whole area was a busy fishing and cargo port as the high island provided shelter from the ever present westerly winds. It all looks so peaceful here that it's hard to believe that on the other side of the island, the North Sea sweeps in against the shore.




We saw quite a bit of criss crossing at one particular point in the sound and discovered that many people were trying to moor outside of a pier restaurant, which apparently has a high reputation. Magasinet was built in an old grain and fish storehouse dating from the mid nineteenth which has been renovated. It looked really busy today as boats jostled to get a good mooring place. What an outstanding location.




All too soon, we were through the sound and back in the open water, sailing steadily along the island of Tjörn. We have previously visited the island by car and loved all of the tiny communities there. We drove along small roads to these fishing villages and stood on the cliffs looking out at the sea with the bare islands in the distance and made a vow to ourselves to come here one day and sail our own boat. That was five years ago and here we are - though it is not as much fun to be actually in the sea as it was looking at it all from land. One of my very favourite towns on Tjörn is the beautiful, rocky harbour at Skärhamn.




This town has about 3,000 permanent inhabitants and many, many thousand more in the summer. The harbour was packed and the boat traffic was really intensive as we .... yes you guessed it.... passed by. It would have been insane to have tried and squeeze in today. I kept thinking back five years to that cool, quiet day in late September when we sat at a waterfront café for lunch and enjoyed the peace and tranquility of the town. We then went for a walk to the cliffs and looked across the water at the fairytale island of Åstol and wondered what it would be like on a summer's day. Well, we have our answer! Insane. Another illusion bites the dust.

The rest of the day, we sail to the west of Marstrand, looking for a place to drop anchor for the night. The choices are few and far between. Around Marstrand itself, enormous boats full of young men, all well lubricated with beer have taken over the guest harbours so we give that a wide berth. There are several bays on the nature reserve of Klåverön, just south of Marstrand, but they are completely open to the south west (the prevailing wind direction) so they are not suitable for a night harbour.

We find ourselves heading further and further south in our quest. One possible bay, Utkäften, must have had at least 40 boats moored with more heading in - and it wasn't even a very big place! When I asked Lars-Göran why everyone would cram themselves into the same bay, he answered "Well, what other choices are there around here?" And that was very true. The mainland just to the east was shallow and quite open to the sea and there were very few islands. The island groups between here and Göteborg were all built up with holiday homes, private piers and nowhere to moor. In the end, we went back to the same place (Stora Hästholmen) where we stayed the first night we spent in Göteborg.




It's peaceful here. We do see some boats passing in the distance, but it seems that this area is not so popular and we are quite alone. I can't believe how far south we've had to come and we talk a little about where to go from here. I feel as though we have barely touched the places we wanted to see, but I can see that July is not the time to do it. I think that we hadn't expected to be back at this point until mid August, so we feel a little dissatisfied and at a loose end. Should we try and head north again tomorrow or just forget about it and look at the Göteborg archipelago instead. Perhaps it may be less crowded than Bohuslän.



I guess we'll sleep on it.

After last night’s “It’s just for the night” scene, we woke up early, determined to put a bright slant on things and find something fun to do. Last year we had a ball island hopping in the Stockholm archipelago – just going a few nautical miles here and there, dropping anchor, taking our bikes to land and riding around, having picnics and enjoying the surroundings. We have missed being able to do that this year, so today I want to change that.

The forecast is for north westerly winds – still at 20-25 knots but at least in a direction that will give us easy downwind sailing with just the foresail up. I had a look at the chart and pointed to the island of Hållö, a popular nature harbour just outside of Smögen as a place I was really curious to visit. I noticed a few cows grazing this morning on the opposite shore, so I saw that as a good sign for the future. I really do love cows.




Coming out of the protection of the fjord and into the open water we found that the sea was still pounding into the coastline, but this time we were going with the waves which made our trip a little more comfortable. At least the skies were a beautiful cobalt blue and the sun was shining.

Having successfully negotiated Sotekanalen a few weeks ago, we though we might take that route again. The previous trip had been in drizzling rain and so we wanted to see it in sunshine while we were here. The waterways were busy with all kinds of boats out enjoying the day and we have become a little more used to the sheer volume of traffic here. Each small crack in the cliffs is filled with boats and the towns we pass with guest harbours are doing a roaring trade. Hunnebostrand seemed to be bursting at the seams.




I remember reading that this town is a a popular holiday spot with a good harbour, fine swimming beaches and lots of street life in summer. It is also one of Bohuslän’s oldest coastal towns, with a history going back to the 13th century. It grew considerably during the big herring fishing period lasting from 1556 to 1589. When the quarrying industry got underway in the 1860s the population boomed and for decades the sound of the hammers echoed from the quarries. Today it is the summer tourists who rule.

Just south of Hunnebostrand is the canal. We were expecting it to be busy, but even we hadn’t expected the traffic jam we met, with long lines of boats “bumper to bumper” in both directions.




There was a long wait for the bridge to open and that was quite tense as boats drifted here and there trying to keep in line. It is easy waiting in a queue in a car as it stays in one place. A boat is constantly moving and you are always on alert both for your boat as well as those around you. A Norwegian boat decided to suddenly stop in the middle of the canal as the bridge opened and came close to causing a major chain collision of boats behind him. We were two boats back and saw what he was about to do, but as we had boats behind us as well as in front and next to us, we felt helpless and feared hearing the crunch as we all collided. Fortunately, the boat in front of us was a tour boat and he blew his horn and screamed at the Norwegians to keep moving. It was only then that the clueless Norwegians looked back at the panic they were causing behind them as 20 or more boats tried to turn here and there to avoid collision. It looked not unlike a Dodge-em car track with boats lying at all kinds of crazy angles. It was a very close thing and we came out of the canal literally shaking.




Not even the rural scene around us could cheer us up. After that near miss, we felt it would be madness to take the narrow, twisting inner route into Smögen. Who knows how many more idiots there might be out today. Every boat was going that way, so we chose to head out to sea instead and take our chances with the waves and rocks.




At least they are more predictable. It was lovely out there on the outside of the islands in relative peace and quiet. In a couple of hours, we came in through the rocks and saw the back view of Smögen high on the cliffs.




The rocks in this area are the beautiful, smooth, flat red granite, so loved of the former stonemasons. This part of the coast has not been quarried, so you can see what the rest of the surroundings should have looked like. They are very popular with swimmers and sunbathers and nearly every “shelf” was full of people, lying in lee and toasting themselves.




Smögen is one of the most famous coastal towns in Bohuslän – a popular destination for sun worshippers, sport fishermen, divers, sailors and lovers of the good life. It might not be Bohuslän’s oldest fishing village, but the atmosphere and the unique building style has been well maintained. The big attraction is the 600 metre long quay lined with shops and cafés, one of the province’s most famous tourist destinations. As you would expect, there is lively boat traffic and the guest harbour was unbelievably crowded with even more boats trying to squeeze in. There was absolutely no way we could possibly even begin to moor there.




I could see Hållö in the distance and hoped that it would be quieter there. I am disappointed to be missing out on seeing these towns. I am interested in the atmosphere of these places and would like to take a closer look, but they are so crowded that it is no fun to even try and be there. I’d like to come back when things are quieter and look around, but we won’t be here during a quieter time. Each day, it is a matter of “now or never” and unfortunately “never” seems to be winning every time. It has taken the shine off the trip and I am resigned to simply bypassing everything. Somehow, this wasn’t the vacation I’d had in mind.

Hållö, with its lighthouse that reminds me so much of our beloved Landsort, is by contrast very quiet.




As we approached, we could see why. The waves were rolling straight in to the cliffs and there was no way to moor there without risking damaging the boat. I really wanted to walk around and look at this unusual scenery on this nature reserve, the smooth granite rocks sanded smooth by glaciers with nary a tree in sight, but yet again, it was not to be. The only mooring places faced the waves and today it was too rough. We thought about trying to find a protected place nearby and hope for better conditions tomorrow, but we were not hopeful, so reluctantly we went out to sea again.

We wanted to stay out at sea and come in at Måseskär, but it was quite rough tacking in those waves, Lambi was unhappy, so we came in at Gullholmen and took our chances with the madmen again. At least the views were worthwhile and the water was much calmer.




We passed several small communities, but after a while each group of white houses perched on a cliff above the sea, exposed to the elements starts to look like every other place and it can be hard to tell them apart.




Everywhere we look there are boats sailing. We have books outlining nature harbours, but few of them are facing the right direction in order to give us protection. Again we start weaving here and there looking for somewhere good to anchor for the night. What a contrast to the east coast, where you sail for as long as you like, then simply select somewhere close by to tie up. It rarely takes more than one or two tries to find something perfect. Here we are spending hours looking and in the end selecting something we hate out of pure desperation. Hundreds of others are also in the same area doing the same thing.




Today is a good illustration of what I mean. Rough seas and overcrowded harbours have ruled out the possible choices we made this morning. As we sail south, I scan the charts and look at bays that may provide shelter, only to find even the most ugly places jam packed. Other places are impossibly full of shoals and only suitable for shallow draughts. Other places have stone as the bottom and the anchor will not grip. Some places look so inviting and ideal to take a tour around in our dinghy (eg around Härmanö), only they are so exposed and the wind is howling through the place! Most of the guidw books describe places as ideal and worth visiting, bar the disclaimer “dock inte i västlig vind, då havet rullar på rackt in”. Who are they kidding? It’s always westerly winds here! You just can’t win. In the end we do find somewhere.




“It’s just for the night” Lars-Göran assures me as I look around at this desolate moonscape. Now where have I heard that before? It’s not even like this place is protected. No, there are no waves as we are far inland, but it is too much to hope to be able to get both wave AND wind shelter on the west coast. Without the welcome windbreak provided by trees, det blåser som attan här!

It’s soul destroying and I am beginning to hate it here so much I could cry.

Dear west wind,

It was really nice of you to come out and play, but now can you just GO AWAY!

Thankyou,

The crew of S/Y Fiona

The last few days have seen the wind strength go from the sublime to the ridiculous and I can tell you that it is very wearing on the temper, especially if you are thrown together on a small, tight boat. Sudden violent deluges followed by strong gales for days on end have forced us to be inside the boat, hiding out in bays where we don’t want to be, while waiting for the sea to subside enough for us to venture out again. What a contrast to the peace and calm of the weather we had at Väderöarna.

As I have said before, we watch the weather carefully, choosing mooring places and directions to sail depending on wind strength and direction. The bay we were moored in was totally open to the north, so when the forecast was predicting winds from just that point on the compass, we knew it was time to leave. That proved to be easier said than done as the wind was blowing from behind us and made maneuvering to loosen all of the ropes a hazardous affair. Poor Lars-Göran had to free the ropes from high up the narrow cliff face, while the dinghy kept perversely insisting on pretending to be a giant fender and inserting itself between the boat and the cliff. In the end, using a boat hook, brute strength and a lot of colourful language, we managed to free ourselves and take off. All of this was carried out with a full audience of rubber necking boat owners on top of the cliff face – none of whom offered to help out, I might add. So much for the myth of the friendly west coast people. As you can imagine, this somewhat bruised Lars-Göran’s male pride and provided another nail in the coffin of his self esteem and belief in his sailing abilities and put a dampener on our trip back to the mainland.

Just when I thought that things couldn’t get worse, they did. I could see that Lars-Göran was in no mood to fight for a place at the overcrowded pier at Fjällbacka, which was our tentative goal for the day. I thought it was better to spend a day at a nice nature harbour, maybe take the dinghy to land and walk around a little and just disconnect and recharge our emotional batteries, then tackle the town the next day.

It was a great plan on paper. Our first goal was to find somewhere to moor. I had hoped to just take one of the first places we came to, even though they had the rather gruesome names of Kyrkogårdsön (The Cemetery Island) and Galgeberget (The Gallows Hill). Charming! Apparently, their names do refer to their former uses – one as a burial place for sailors lost at sea who were washed up on the shores and the other as an execution place, where the bodies hung high on the hill as a warning to others. Lars-Göran pointed out that this part of the country was in Danish hands at the time (1600s) and that was the sort of barbaric behaviour you’d expect from Danes (joke!). Anyway, neither of the islands was suitable – one had bays open to the north, the other was tightly packed with boats.

Just a little further north, we dropped anchor in a tiny bay in Vedholmen as it seemed to offer protection from wind and waves. Today really wasn’t our day at all – not only would the anchor refuse to grip because of the sea grass on the bottom, but even though we had a belt of skerries on the outside of the island and a deep headland in front of us, the waves still managed to come around and we bounced up and down with the swell. We were exhausted by now, so we thought we’d have afternoon tea, listen to the forecast on the VHF and choose somewhere else once we knew what the weather was going to do. Who knows, maybe the wind would ease. Nope, gales and rain forecast for the next few days.

Damn!

So off we went again. Lars-Göran is a sweetie really. When he chooses a bay, he tries to select somewhere with calm water, protection from the wind and a great view. In other words, he wants us to have it all. I tend to think that he puts himself under too much pressure to achieve this, but I’ve learned to keep quiet and let him go rather than suggest a compromise “just for the night”. The next place he chose seemed to fit all of these criteria and he carefully anchored, dug in the anchor well and seemed ready to relax and switch off. The view was perfect, too.




A few hours later as we were preparing to eat dinner, there was a knock on our hull and Lars-Göran peeped out to find a fisherman in a dinghy clinging to the hull, telling us that the boat was dragging. And boy, was it dragging at a great rate!

Damn, again!

There was a lot of cursing and somewhat of a panic to start the engine, pull in the anchor and keep the boat off the shoals. Neither of us could understand how this had happened as we had backed in the anchor properly and it was disheartening and frustrating to find that our knowledge and experience in handling the boat just didn’t help. Frigging west coast! I tell you, if I could teleport myself home to the calm of the Stockholm archipelago this instant, I’d happily do so.

You know, some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed in the morning. And this is rapidly turning into one of those nightmare days. We did manage to find a spot nearby on the east of Gåsön (The Goose Island – but we didn’t see any geese), though I had trouble relaxing as I was really worried that we’d drag again. Over dinner, I told Lars-Göran to skip going to Fjällbacka and just let us get the hell out of this crazy, crowded west coast, but he calmed me and said that we ought to try and see what we could as we had come so far. He was hopeful that the strong winds would abate tomorrow and we could go and have a day on land.

Yeah, right!

It was a sleepless night for both of us as we worried that we’d drag again and we listened as the wind howled outside and the sea swell began to come in to our bay as the wind shifted to the south west and increased to a near storm strength. By 4 am we had both had enough, so I made a quick breakfast and we drew up the anchor, thinking we could go more inland and perhaps drop anchor in the bay opposite Fjällbacka. We only had up a tiny storm sail, but we made over 5 knots of speed, which was a bit hairy in the rock filled channels. Just as we came to the town, an enormous cloudburst hit – it poured and poured solidly for around half an hour and because we were traveling downwind, it drove straight into us drenching everything in the cockpit.

Förbannelse!

Time and time again we selected a mooring place from the chart, only to arrive there and find that it was not suitable. The winds were now more westerly, so this whole area was nothing but trouble. In the crappy weather, dripping wet in the torrential rain, I pointed in desperation to a small, protected looking bay a little way north next to the island of Veddö. On the chart, it was marked as Långsjö and I recalled that the cruising club had a buoy there. It looked a little closed in for our tastes, but in these conditions we could ill afford to be fussy, so off we went.




What a pleasant surprise. We squeezed in through a narrow headland and found ourselves in a deep, lake like bay, full of boats lying by anchor and shores lined with homes, summer houses and even a caravan park and camping ground. The SKX buoy was available as well, so we gratefully tied up the boat and collapsed into bed to recover.

We ended up having to stay here for three nights because the winds continued to be at gale strength from the south west. Most of the time we were forced to be on the boat as it was simply too windy to take the dinghy out and go to land. There were a lot of boats moored here, though few of them moved during the time we were in the bay. Only a couple of fishing boats and the inevitable boat taxis braved the rough seas outside of the headland. We caught up on some reading and writing and discussed what we would do when the weather abated.




On the final day we were here, we took the dinghy to land and walked around the lee side of the island where the camping grounds were situated. It’s not so much fun to walk through a place like this with a persistently inquisitive dog. It was close to lunchtime and Lambi could smell food everywhere, so she kept straining at her leash to go inside of every caravan and tent she could see. I know it’s not her fault, but I found it really annoying and was sorry I had bothered to come ashore. After a time, I began to notice that several people were openly staring at me, so I asked Lars-Göran what I was doing to attract this unwanted attention. He laughed and said “Check out what you are wearing” I protested that I only had on fairly ordinary clothes – long pants, furry jacket, boat shoes – all quite innocuous. “Now, look at what they are wearing” he said and it was then I noticed that everyone was wearing halter tops, shorts, bathers etc. Hmmm….after all these years I still feel cold, even in July *grin*




The caravan park stretched right across the island to a small horseshoe shaped bay which offered a nice sandy beach, ideal for children and good protection from the south west winds. Mind you, it would be the pits in a northerly gale!

There was a small grocery shop as well, so I wandered in and bought some fresh salad vegetables and smoked fish, while the bikini-clad checkout chick stared at me rugged up in my warm jacket. Can I help it if she is in total denial? Believe me, it was quite fresh in the wind.

Finally, we were tired of waiting and even though the winds continued to be strong, we decided that we would perhaps have a go at trying to move a little further south. It had begun to feel like we’d never leave and would have to stay trapped in this place for the rest of our lives. I had no idea that gales could go on so long, even if the weather was sunny. Our little bay was reasonably sheltered, but we could see that outside in the fairway, the waters were quite wild.




We are confident that the boat could handle the conditions, but I was less sure about my own ability to cope. I really didn’t travel all this way in order to struggle and fight every day though I could see that a change of scene would be a good idea. Naturally the forecast wind direction bore no resemblance to reality, so we found ourselves having to tack in a zigzag course through the rough water down to Fjällbacka. We had looked at information about several towns in this region and this is the one that had most appealed to us. We came into the bay where the town lay before us, winding its way up the cliff.




The church tower is unfortunately covered for renovation, but you can see it is still an appealing place to visit. The lovely town of Fjällbacka is associated with the actresses Ingrid Bergman. I’ve mentioned before that she spent her summers at Dannholmen in the Fjällbacka archipelago. It wasn’t just for that reason that I wanted to come here. There is apparently a magnificent view from the top of the 76m high hill behind the town (Vetteberget) as well as a huge opening (Kungsklyftan) in the massive stone cliff in the middle of Fjällbacka, where parts of Astrid Lindgren’s film ”Ronja the Robber’s Daughter” were filmed. I had been looking forward to simply strolling among the old boathouses by the harbour and walking through the winding narrow streets looking at the pretty, tightly packed houses. However, one look at the guest harbour dashed our hopes.




The boats were packed at the piers like sardines. They lay nine boats deep in places! Can you imagine having to tie up to the outside and clamber over nine other boats just to get to the pier (and pay 200kr for the privilege!). I had expected it to be popular, but not in my wildest nightmares had I expected anything like this. Sadly, we had to pass by and I felt really disappointed and a little worried about how bad it would be further south. Certainly there was a lot of boats out sailing today, all looking for a mooring place to protect them from the strong winds.

Even though it was windy, the day was sunny and bright and when we sailed in lee of the strong waves, it was really lovely.




We saw several tiny settlements like this one, consisting of fishermen’s cottages lining a tiny piece of flat ground at the foot of a high rockface. There were a lot of people out enjoying the sunshine and we even ran into a sailing school being held in one of the sounds. I am so impressed by the skill of these young children handling these tiny boats, though we were a little worried sailing past them, keeping a close watch to make sure we were well away from their path.




Sailing further southwards through the outer islands brought some further surprises, like this lovely summer home, complete with a lush, green lawn. The sight of such growth was startling when compared to the normal environment of stark, red granite rocks. I wonder how they managed to get it to grow so well in this harsh, windswept, salty place?




By contrast,just around the corner, the area is dominated by these smooth, almost sculptured stone slabs which gives the place a real feel of being in the outer archipelago.




All of this co-exists with large areas that have sadly been exploited by previous generations and a lot of the archipelago looks like a scrapheap in a quarry, with the beautiful stone slabs blasted away and granite blocks lying around, unwanted, forgotten and a little forlorn looking.




As well as being used domestically, a lot of the stone quarried here in Bohuslän was exported in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries as part of the industrialisation and urbanising programs. Red granite was used for cobblestoned streets and town squares, piers, bridges in places as far away as Argentina. I think it is sad to see the aftermath of all of this activity in the form of big blocks, half finished, complete with drill holes lying strewn around the islands. There is also a lot of rusty wires, cables and remains of rails left there.

We bypassed Heestrand, the little town where we stayed a couple of weeks ago and decided to cross over the open waters down towards the town of Bovallstrand. The waters were foaming and angry as the waves swept in from the west crashing over rocks and skerries. The boat handled the conditions really well, so we were happy.