Yep, sailing again this weekend after yet another busy, hectic week. This weekend we have a guest onboard - Lars-Göran's eldest daughter Madde, who was keen to come out for a couple of days sailing before going away. In two weeks time she is off to Enkokidongoi in Kenya for the next seven months investigating the setting up of health clinics in one of the Masai villages. This means that she will be away from Sweden for Midsummer, her granny's 80th birthday as well as Christmas, so she wanted to get a taste of Swedish summer with us before she goes away. And what could be more of a Swedish summer experience than sailing to a pretty bay and grilling on the cliffs. Luckily the weather opted to co-operate with a glorious Saturday morning.




As with last weekend, the winds again favoured a northerly route, so we consulted the charts and chose a pretty, sheltered bay that lies at the end of a long sound between the islands of Ålö and Rånö where they meet at the southern tip of Utö.




This is called Ryssviken (the Russian Bay), so named as it was here that many of the Russian naval troops were based during the raids on the region. In 1719 the Russians had crossed the Baltic on the orders of Peter the Great. Their mission was to burn and destroy as much as they could, in revenge for the fact that Sweden was unwilling to sign a peace treaty after the Swedish King Karl XII lost a war against Russia. It was a grim time and many islands never recovered.

That was all far from our minds today as we set off. One crew member (the decorative rather than useful crew member) was absolutely beside herself with joy as Madde stepped onboard.




We again had brisk winds and Fiona coasted along easily at close to seven knots, making short work of the crossing to the northern tip of Nåttarö, where we eased eastwards carefully through a rocky, narrow, shallow channel and turned northwards again to negotiate the sound between Rånö and Ålö. The sun was shining and everyone on board was relaxed and soaking up the ambience.




This area is accessible from Nynäshamn using one of the normal Waxholmsbolaget archipelago passenger boats. These islands are very popular in summer as they have camping grounds, cottages to hire, fine, sandy, sunny beaches and a couple of well-known restaurants which serve freshly-caught fish from the area. As we made our way along the channel we watched the Waxholms boat criss cross in front of us, dropping off guests at the Ålö fish smokery and restaurant.




We anchored in a scenic bay enclosed by a pasture, woodland and skerries. Again the birds were out in force and we saw more of the graceful herons flying through the air and grebes swimming close to the boat.




On the small rocky islets, white swans sunbathed, tiny terns sat and waited impatiently for the fish to swim by, gulls whirled in the breeze and those lovely, shy little coots were busy in their nests. It really is a quiet oasis of peace here.




To the south of Ryssviken, at the northern end of the island of Nåttarö, is a very popular bay called Östermarsfladen. In this bay on a fine summer's weekend, you regularly get between 70-100 boats mooring. We are far happier to be here where there are no other boats, no people and no kids in motorised dunghies tearing around night and day. The birds are perfect company.

In the late afternoon it was gin and tonic time, so Lars-Göran and Madde relaxed in the cockpit enjoying their drinks and nibbles.




After cocktails, we took out the dinghy and went for a tour around another narrow channel between Ålö and Utö, stopping to wander along a trail which led through the forest.




Everything was cool, damp and green with the sun dappling the ground through tiny shafts of light. We saw lingons and blueberries starting to bud and a little way along we came to an area of open meadows and pastureland, with a pretty farmhouse nestled in the trees overlooking the water. The fields were dotted with wandering flocks of sheep and lambs happily grazing. We stopped to look at them and they in turn seemed to be fascinated by Lambi.




As soon as we started to leave, the sheep followed us, bleating at Lambi as though she really belonged there with them. Hmmm.....now that's a tempting thought....

The walk had really whetted our appetites so we set about preparing the grill. It is a very Swedish thing to take one of these disposable grills and cook out on a cliff in the archipelago - no matter the weather. Lars-Göran heartily hates this and I confess to being a little puzzled as to its apparent joys. In Australia, a barbeque is a very social thing, with the men gathered around the barbie, beer in hand, supervising the cooking and simultaneously solving all of the world's problems in a rare display of multitasking and mateship.

A Swedish bbq on the other hand, is quite another beast. You see the men up on the cliffs all alone, tending their little bbq, while the women and children remain onboard the boats. Even if there are a group of men there, they don't seem to talk to one another or even stay close, preferring to keep their distance and look after their own little bbq upon which there are generally a few hot dog type snags (think Footy Franks) cooking. It all looks rather lonely and a bit pointless, but funnily enough Swedes look forward to the time of the year when they can cook on an outside grill. Whatever rocks your boat, I guess.

Anyway, we chose a site on the shore offering a view across the little bay and out to the boat which was moored in the middle.




As Madde is vegetarian, we had a grill with a difference - everything on it was meat-free. I made marinated haloumi slices, kebabs of vegetables threaded on skewers, little "meatballs" made from quorn and corn cobs which happily cooked away on our little disposable bbq and looked both colourful and appetising.




The smell was lovely and we all kept a close eye on the cooking while I set up the salads (tabouli, chickpea/red onion/pesto salad, rice salad and a Greek peasant salad) along with fresh crusty French bread, eating utensils and drinks. We were all waiting anxiously for it to all be ready.




Soon enought I declared that the hot food was cooked through and we all loaded up our plates, while I put on "seconds" to cook and we sat on the steps of an old boat shed in the gentle evening snshine to enjoy our food. It was delicious and the more so for eating outside in the fresh air.




After eating some of us were too full to move, so they relaxed and soaked up the last of the sun's rays while they digested dinner - a bit like a reptile on a rock. Not everyone approved of this blatant attempt to avoid cleaning up, especially when he muttered things about not wanting to get involved in "secret women's business".




The evening disappeared as we discussed Madde's upcoming trip to Africa and her feelings about the work she is setting out to do as well as her future ambitions. It's great when you see someone so dedicated to helping out others. I hope she enjoys her experiences.

Sunday mporning was the epitome of a perfect Swedish summer day and Madde was able to have breakfast outside and relax and read in the glorious sunshine. I hope this is a portent for the rest of summer. If so, I can hardly wait!




Around lunchtime we headed back to civilasion as it is Mother's Day in Sweden today and we all went up to Stockholm to visit Lars-Göran's mum and ate dinner out at a local Italian restaurant with the rest of the family. It was a great end to a lovely weekend.

As hard to believe as it seems (at least to me), five years have now gone by since Lars-Göran and I married. Five years wed to a wonderful, caring and understanding man.




We celebrated by returning to , the restaurant boat in Nynäshamn harbour where we had our wedding reception five years ago. We had a lovely meal, sitting by the window and enjoying the view of the nearby islands on this warm, light summer evening. The meal was delicious and very relaxing.




I just want to say here on this space that I love my dear husband and I’m excited about what the future holds for both of us. Together, of course. I thank you for sharing with me, for laughing with me, and most of all for loving me!

I love you darling.

Friday was forecast to be a rainy day, so we had not planned to go out sailing again this weekend. However, it dawned sunny and bright, so we decided to take a chance and go off somewhere nearby to enjoy the emerging spring. There were brisk southerly winds, so it seemed smart to take advantage of them and head northwards to see what took our fancy. It was fast sailing in the sunshine, with Fiona coasting along nicely at between 4 and nearly 7 knots. After a couple of hours, we looked at our charts and remembered how lovely it had been last autumn in Rånöhamn, so we thought it would be interesting to seeit again in the spring. It is a narrow but deep bay, providing good shelter from the forecast winds and while Saturday going to be wet and grey, Sunday promised sunshine, so I couldn't think of a nicer place to be in those conditions.

During the night a big yacht (Hallberg-Rassy 54), came in and anchored behind us. While we were having a late breakfast in the cockpit (I LOVE the cockpit tent!!), we saw that they were having a problem taking up the anchor, even though they had an electric windlass. On a closer look (yes, of course we snooped with the binoculars) we saw that their anchor had snagged on an underwater electrical cable.




Oops.......

It was raining and windy and you could tell that they were anxious to leave, but the anchor was well and truly caught fast. They attempted to free it by lowering and raising it again at another angle but all to no avail. In the end, after half an hour or so of discussions, reaching over with boathooks and cursing, they were forced to pump up their inflatable rowing boat and then one of them engined around and manually unhooked the cable in order to free the boat. It was raining even harder by now. I can just imagine how they felt. Nothing is worse than everything suddenly going spectacularly wrong like that.




I was really happy that we were staying put today, anchored safely and firmly in this sheltered bay as the weather was quite a mixed bag with mostly cloud, rain and a fleeting few patches of sun. As I said, much as expected. We spent the day lazing inside, cosily wrapped in a soft, furry blanket, nibbling on goodies, drinking wine and reading. Except for HRH Lambi who slept the entire day away. Talk about a charmed life.




Sunday as promised dawned bright and sunny again, if still somewhat windy. It seemed a good day to rug up well, take out the dinghy and motor around to see the emerging spring. One thing that still takes me by surprise every year is the literal explosion that characterises spring in Sweden. In Australia, spring is a much more gradual process where days become slowly warmer, carefully planted bulbs begin to peek out from the damp soil, blossoms and leaves start to appear in an orderly, civilised fashion. There is no such finesse about Swedish spring. One day everything looks completely dead and bare, as though the earth has been touched by a never-ending nuclear winter chill. Then literally overnight the temperature rises considerably and the leaves and blossoms burst forth prolifically - as if some power has waved a magic wand. It is truly wonderful.




One of the first things we saw was a carpet of pretty native viola poking up through a crack in the rocky shore - such beauty in such a harsh place. The trees were also exploding in blossoms that shone in the early morning sunlight.




And across the fields circled by stately ancient oak trees, the meadows were alive with a multi-coloured, varied carpet of new spring grass and blooms. When people speak here about the miracle of spring, it is easy to understand their belief in a greater power controlling things and some of the traditions and superstitions surrounding the seasons here in the far north start to make a kind of sense.




It was not only the plant world that was coming to life. The migratory birds are slowly reappearing from their winter homes in the southern climates and looking for mates. The variety of sea birds with new hatchlings here in this small island was astounding. I saw dozens of herons nesting and fishing in the reed banks by the shore.




One rarely catches sight of these majestic but very shy birds, so I was extremely surprised and happy to see them out today and at such close range. We had elected to row rather than use the outboard motor so that we didn't disturb the bird and animal life. I am fascinated by watching herons fish - they stand as still as a statue for the longest time before expertly spearing a fish in the waters below. Their precision and patience is quite astounding.




And there is nothing more impressive than a heron in flight. They have such immaculate grace and poise, it is like an aerial ballet.




As well as the herons, we saw several grebes swimming and diving for food. These gentle, expert swimmers are Lars-Göran's favourite sea bird and he always enjoys watching them dive and swim and play with each other. One family of hatchlings even managed to score a free piggy back ride from mum (or maybe from dad - this is Sweden after all!)




Another of our absolute favourites (the tern) was also out in force today, darting and divebombing in it's search for fish. It is incredible to see them beating their wings so quickly that they hover perfectly still over the water, then plummet from the heights straight down underwater to emerge with their catch (which then had to be protected from the scavenging gulls). I've even seen them take on the much bigger cormorants and steal fish straight out of their beaks before they can swallow. They really are amazing, fiesty, tiny birds.




One of the more charming sights was a nest in the reeds containing baby coots. They are such sweet little birds and this is the very first time that I've been close to one of their nests.




They are usually very shy, gentle birds and it is a joy to see them return each spring to the archipelago. They nest in the reed banks in protected bays such as this one, venturing out and quietly feeding among the more noisy and pushy ducks and geese around Nynäshamn. They have to be among my favourite birds, though I do laugh at their enormous, untidy almost prehistoric feet that somehow look completely out of place on such a small, neat looking bird.

Today it really is like a bird paradise out here with the rocks filled with nesting seagulls, terns and grebes.




Not to be outdone, the forest birds are twittering madly in the trees, though they are so fast that it is impossible to photograph them easily. I can even hear the unmistakable call of the elusive gök or cuckoo. And let me tell yo that they really do say "cuckoo". This came as a total surprise to me the first time I heard them, much to Lars-Göran's amusement. While I had naturally seen cuckoo clocks in Australia, usually brought back from Europe by visiting relatives, it never seriously occurred to me that the little bird in the clock was actually based on anything in reality. It seemed a bit ludicrous that a bird would say "cuckoo", but it does. I still haven't seen one, though, so it could still just be Lars-Göran tricking me.

The other birds that are here in abundance today are the elegant eider duck colonies.




They are found on many of the local islands, living in enormous groups with one or two adults taking care of a large number of swimming youngsters. They are always a really charming sight as they float along with an almost grumbling, muttering noise that is so unmistakable. And so amusing to listen to.

Sadly, it is time to head home as the sky begins to cloud over and the winds pick up again. It should be a fast and furious ten nautical mile trip back to the pier after a couple of relaxing and enjoyable days out in nature. It gives us a boost to get us over the next working week and a wonderful taste of the long, lazy weeks of summer we will be spending on board Fiona. Bring on Midsummer and the holidays!

It feels as though the last few weeks have been all work and no play, so we decided to take advantage of the sunny weather and take a short trip to our club island, Lacka, just for a change of scene. It is really sunny, but still rather chilly in the wind, so we were well rugged up for the sail across a very wavy Mysingen.

The little horseshoe bay on the western side of the island where we tied up was in lee, so the waters were still and calm and we hopped on to land to have a look around. It is beautiful in the late spring, with everything looking so fresh and green and extremely lush. We even found the first lingonberries for the season, glistening in the bright sunshine.




Lingonberry translates into English as cowberry. It is not a berry that I was at all familiar with before I came to Sweden. It is most commonly picked and made into a rather tart jam, that can also be served with savoury dishes as can it's cousin the cranberry. People also make it into a cordial or juice. They grow in abundance on the forest floors and it is great fun in July/August to wander around and pick buckets of them just for jam making.

As I said, the wind was really cold, so we sought some respite in the club house high on the windward side, facing Mysingen.




Lambi enjoys the warmth and cosiness of being inside and I love to watch the wild seas crash into the rocks below us. There were no other boats out today, so after a short time we ventured out into the cold wind and back to the shelter of the bay where it was calm, peaceful and the water showed no signs of the violence on the other side. It really is like a whole other world.




With the sun glittering off the water, the fresh newly sprouted leaves on the birch trees letting in the dappled sunshine just adds to the picture of tranquility. A little later another sailing boat came into the bay and moored on the other side.




Dinner, a good night's sleep and a lazy motor home helped to recharge our batteries again for the week ahead.

Ah, yes.....

Does anyone else remember that 1960's show Green Acres? From what I remember of it, there was a successful New York businessman who moved from Manhattan to live in the countryside. He loved the life on the farm, but his feather-boa-and-stiletto wearing socialite wife longed to go back to the city. I guess it was the usual fish-out-of-water story and the episodes were lighthearted and dealt with the city slickers trying to adapt to the great outdoors.

Well we had our own version of that today, starring Lambi in the role made famous by one of the Gabor sisters (Eva Gabor I think, but don't quote me).

It all began when we decided to go for a drive in the beautiful spring sunshine. We didn't want to go too far, so I suggested the nearby peninsula of Käringboda.




It began well as we cruised down the road towards the sea, with the fields full of spring flowers and dotted with vitsippor (wood anemone), carpeting the ground like confetti. The trees are still rather bare, though the first signs of green shoots are beginning to show. It's amazing how short the growing season is so far north.




At one point we came to a field of bright, happy buttercups and Lars-Göran leapt out of the car with joy and snapped a shot of the new life returning to the landscape. His enthusiasm for the season was infectious and we both laughed and revelled in the warmth and colour.




In the end, it was all too much, so we parked the car, determined to go for a walk through the beautiful countryside, inhaling the fresh air and taking in the new life around us. So we parked our little car by the side of the road and discussed whether we should head up into the hills or towards the glittering sea.




Hmmm.... decisions, decisions. Lars-Göran jumped out of the car, drawing in deep breaths and waxing lyrical about the joys of a country stroll. He reached in and gathered his trusty dog to join him out in nature. Lambi, in pure princess style, took one look at the countryside and started scratching at the car door to be let back inside. Lars-Göran was stunned. He moved her a little way off to get her started, sure that she would be happy to be running free in the sunshine. But again, she made a beeline for the car and scratched to be let inside, where she curled up on the velour car seats and went to sleep.




She much prefers her nature from the comfort of mummy's arms. So we gave up the idea of a walk and instead drove slowly around the area, totally alone and free to watch the new calves playing in the fields, overlooking the sea and the first sailing boat for the season out on Nynäsviken.




In Lambi's words: