Spring sailing through the west coast islands

Ecstatic to be out cruising!

 
After a solid week of small boat projects and re-provisioning, including a short-haul to change the zincs and reassure ourselves that there was no ice damage, we were ready to break from the dock and start cruising. 

High and dry!

The weather was still cold (reportedly the coldest and wettest May on record in Sweden), but since we had been sailing in freezing temperatures in January, the cool spring weather seemed downright balmy. We started close to our Swedish boating home of Smögen and with Hans's parents on board, we motored the grueling 1 (one!) nautical mile to the island of Hållö, home to a nature reserve, lighthouse, small museum, and, most importantly, a cafe. We hiked to the southern end of the island where there are huge, perfectly cylindrical holes in the rock caused by gasses (don't ask me for more technical details!). The majority of the island was a perfect example of the pink-hued granite found in this specific area of the west coast. It's fascinating--you can clearly see how the rock was heated and cooled and pushed together during the ice age, leaving behind a visual history of how the island was formed. A lot of the islands in the area have been quarried over the years for their granite, but Hållö has always been protected from quarrying and they ways the water and ice have gently eroded and smoothed the rocks is gorgeous. 

 
We spent the rest of the weekend at Smögenbryggan (the main harbor and dock on the island) which was completely transformed from what we had known. We arrived in November and for three months the harbor was almost completely empty of any other pleasure boats. The shops and cafes were all closed and the only foot traffic was people exercising. Summer at Smögenbryggan is chock-a-block with boats and people. All the shops and restaurants are open and vacation spirit is in the air.

Crabs for dinner, delicious and a big hit with everyone!

Reading and relaxing, waiting for Farmor and Farfar.

 

After a few days of that high level people, noise, and boat traffic, we were ready to find our own secluded spot. We stocked up on groceries and sailed north to the archipelago around Fjällbacka. There are thousands of islands to explore, and it's hard to make a bad choice. We had to pay attention to wind and weather, of course, and ended up anchoring the first couple nights. 

So many islands! Always possible to find protection from the predominant wind direction.

 

Covid-safe sailing. Joking. Sun safe sailing. 3 years in Florida sun and 3 years in south Texas did a number on my skin and while it's difficult to reverse sun damage, I'm working much harder to protect myself. Part vanity, part health. Added bonus, my hair isn't tangled after a day out sailing!

18+ hours of daylight allows for long, spectacular sunsets.
(Presumably sunrises also, but we never see those!)

 
It's fun to tie up to the rocks, for ease of getting on and off the boat, especially for the kids as it gives them autonomy to come and go as they please, but being at anchor provides a special kind of peace and quiet, and a real "boat" feeling. Gently bobbing on the waves, swinging at anchor with the breeze, being on our own private island, etc. Add any romantic notions you'd like, they're all true. 

Spring flowers are bursting through the cracks, adding softness and life to the rugged landscape of these outer islands. The pollen count is insane, like nothing I've ever seen. Our boat is constantly coated with yellow powder and there is a layer of pollen on the surface of the water.

 

All snuggled in for a night ashore. Unfortunately, after an hour or so the tea spilled out of the thermos and we got a call on the Vhf: Um, my quilt is completely soaked with tea. Can you come pick us up? I bet they'll try again in warmer weather.

It's a hard life, but someone has to do it.

Sweet Matilda, picked flowers for me and made an arrangement in the cockpit.

 

Ashore, we found a herd of sheep, a nesting duck, and the ruins of an old farm. On the other side of the island we also found a few apple trees in full bloom, a labyrinth, and a massive cairn at the top of the island. Historically, the cairns were used as signalling stations along the west coast. They were placed every 12 km or so and a message could be sent from Gothenburg to Strömstad (approximately 200km) in a couple days. Now it seems that every high point on every island has a little cairn placed by hikers. The big cairn in Fjällbacka also marks a viking grave, and I wonder if the cairn on Dannemark is also a gravesite since it was so massive.

After a few days the winds moderated and we motored around the corner to an island right on the edge of the sea where we could tie up to the rocks. There are numerous eye bolts on most of the islands, but our boat is substantially bigger than a lot of the classic plastic sailboats that Swedes vacation on every summer. It's hard to find the right spot that seems deep enough at the rock edge and also deep enough all the way around the boat. We've bumped more than a few times. Slowly, gently, but it makes my stomach turn and my heart race. Once we get settled with extra lines to prevent swinging, it's always worth it and the kids run on and off the boat at will, usually setting up a fort or secret hideout on land and getting fully absorbed in their own fantasy worlds. We have space on the foredeck for my yoga mat, but it's pretty stellar to find a spot in nature to spread out my mat for a yoga session.

And to cap off our first week, our friends Malin & Joel on s/v Grandiosa joined us for the weekend and of course we ate oysters and drank champagne while watching the sun gradually dip below the horizon. Standards are high!

 

A few scenes from the more developed parts of the archipelago. In and around Fjällbacka.

We never found snails or slugs in Florida and Texas and the girls are always thrilled by them. I remember, more than once, petting my cat as a kid and finding a slug in her thick fur.
They never cease to gross me out.

It was blissful to be a in a forest after over a week on rocky islands where the only plant life was teeny tiny.