Fall sailing

While the kids loved Mariestad and wanted to stay there for a year (or forever!), we were ready to move on. Hans and I have been looking forward to sailing around the islands on the west coast of Sweden, not to mention possible lobstering and Hans promises cod dinner every night! It has been fun to be tied up to the city dock in a small town, within walking distance to basically everything we need, but I much prefer to wild anchorages at uninhabited islands. Not to mention the fact that we need to get out of the middle of Sweden before it starts to get too cold. And icy.

The first 2/3 of our trip across Sweden was through the Göta Canal; the second half will take us through the Trollhätten Canal. Much more commercial than the Göta Canal, and open year-round. After Hans had been back on the boat for a few days, we broke the news to the kids that we were leaving Mariestad. We promised them uninhabited islands, castles, and a big science museum in Gothenburg. 

One last fika in Mariestad.

With the kids somewhat placated, we sailed basically due west from Mariestad to the Lurö Skärgård. The sail was a little more intense than we had hoped for, especially as we are helping the kids get used to the fact that their home moves and it's not always comfortable. As seems to be the case more often than not, the wind was blowing from the exact direction we wanted to go. The boat dug in though, and Hans and I had a great sail. It was cold, but fun, and every time we go sailing we are impressed with how well-balanced the boat is and relatively comfortable. Relatively, because the kids absolutely do not think that 15 degrees of heel is comfortable. However, they each found their own comfortable place and were settled for the four-hour sail. As we got closer to the islands, the wind started shifting more to the north, likely because it was affected by the land, so we turned the engine on and motored the last 30 minutes. We wove our way between small granite and pine tree islands, and dropped anchor in a small cove with protection from west and north winds. Unfortunately not enough protection, but that was a problem for another day.

Beating west. We rigged the code zero because we'd hoped for off-wind sailing, but

 that wasn't in the cards.

Matilda's new favorite spot underway. She wedged herself in this corner, listened to her playlist on Spotify, and mastered her fidget spinner.

The archipelago was absolutely serene. We were surrounded by small islands, there was no development anywhere near us--no roads, no docks, no marinas, no houses--we were the only people around for miles. The kids immediately wanted to go to shore so Hans lowered the dinghy and engine into the water and we all jumped in for some island exploration. The island they chose had a wooden structure at its highest point; it didn't have any lights so we think it was some kind of identifying mark. The kids immediately designated it as the kids-only fort. 

We spent hours there the next day. The kids set up their headquarters and I found a sheltered sunny spot on the other end of the island from them. I had a short meditation, ate my lunch, and read. I kept taking breaks from my book however to absorb where I was. Absolutely silent and there were quite a few ducks and shore birds that were unperturbed by my presence. I walked around the island, at one point spooking a deer that was in the brush. We weren't too far from the mainland and the islands are so close together that we think the deer must swim from island to island. Hans spent the day fishing, unfortunately unsuccessfully. Sailing and boating in Sweden seems to shut down in September. We didn't see any other boats for days and all of the marinas are shutting down for winter. The docks still have electricity, but most have turned off or are about to turn off their water. We get off-season rates for the docks, and sometimes the docks are free because there isn't a paybox and no one is around. It's cold out, but the fall colors and brilliant, crisp air are worth bundling up for.

That evening, after the kids had gone to bed and I was snuggled in the vee-berth reading, Hans called for me to go into the cockpit. It better be worth it, was all I could think as the temperature was dipping near freezing. Astounding. The sky was crystal clear. We could see the Milky Way, satellites, shooting stars, and we even saw a meteor shoot across the southwest sky. There was absolutely no wind and the stars were reflected in the glassy calm water. I've never seen anything like that before. 

The wind picked up in the middle of the night and we also learned that there must be rocks scattered across the lake bed. We spent the night waking up hearing waves lapping the hull and then a sputtering, grinding noise as the chain dragged across the lake bed, stumbling over rocks. Every now and then one of us would get up and check that we weren't dragging. We weren't. The holding was fantastic, just disconcerting with the chain dragging over rock noise.

The wind was blowing steadily out of the north and while we thought we'd have more protection, a good chop had built up. We had looked forward to another day of peace and tranquility, but it was time to move on. We weighed anchor (easily, thank goodness. I was worried that our chain may have wrapped around a rock at the bottom.), and had a beautiful downwind run to the southern end of Lake Vännern.