WHITE NIGHTS AND ISLAND HOPPING

Howard Letty

The sun was shining on the sea

Shining with all its might,

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

Lewis Carroll

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Fondue left Lymington on 26 May 1994 and arrived back on 22 August, 3500 miles later, after what must be the perfect three month cruise from England. The seed had been sewn as long ago as the 1950s when a diplomat friend in West Africa, whose previous posting had been Stockholm, eulogised about the Swedish islands in summer -- the barbecues on remote rocks, swims in a warm tideless sea ... and the friendliness met with everywhere.

Islands have a perennial fascination: like sirens they lure by challenging. To cruise amongst the thousands of islands in the Swedish and Finnish archipelagos was our first objective. The second was to go north to see the midnight sun, to be north of the Arctic Circle on the longest day of the year, to watch the sun never set -- I'm not sure why, except that we've always been sun worshippers. Somewhere, back in the mists of time, our genes must have danced round a maypole in permanent sunshine and never forgotten the joy!

All the planning of times and dates and crew changes revolved around these two objectives. We later decided to visit St Petersburg and Tallinn as well. To have the maximum time in the warm midriff of the Baltic we needed to spend as little time as possible on the trips out and back. The prospect of two fast passages was the icing on the cake.

Lucky with the winds (but not with rain and fog) Martyn Wheatley, OCC, and I arrived in the centre of Stockholm on 4 June, 1030 miles from Lymington. Margot and Dee joined us the following day.

North up the West Coast of Finland

We left a cold grey Stockholm to cruise north through the ﾏland Islands and up the west coast of Finland, before crossing to Umea in Sweden to hire a car for the last part of the journey to the Arctic Circle. No customs to clear in Stockholm, but as we neared the tiny island of Enskar on the western fringe of ﾏland the cockpit speaker crackled: "Hello, British Yacht Fondue! Yes, we can see you. We have been following you on our radar for the last half hour!" Such was the response to our VHF call to the Frontier Guard.

In our first warm sunshine of the cruise and dressed only in shorts and T-shirts, we met the two young guards quartered on this otherwise uninhabited island. We completed the form filling in a few minutes before chatting to the lads, who were anxious to practice their English. This was our first contact with Finland and we were impressed by both the efficiency and the courtesy, a view only reinforced in the weeks that followed.

Kristinested, West Finland, Wednesday 15 June

An immaculate old seafaring town with a lovely red timber church and noble 18th century Town Hall. In the church's cemetery there are rows of small grave stones, each accompanied by a bouquet of flowers, in memory of those who died fighting the Soviet Union in the last war ... a very moving reminder of Finland's history of conflict with her overpowering neighbour and how brilliantly she has walked the tightrope between east and west in the post-war years.

In the centre of this sleepy town there is a maritime museum which is well worth a visit and, nearby, a new information centre and restaurant. In the centre of the restaurant is a beautiful 30ft model of one of the town's famous square-riggers. Opposite is a bank. I needed some cash and went inside to ask whether my cash card was acceptable. The kind lady gave me a slightly despairing look, as though I had just arrived from the country, and showed me the outside dispenser by the front door. In went my card and after a second the TV-size screen lit up and asked me in English how much money I wanted. A few seconds later, when I had received a fist-full of Finnmarks, it hoped I would `Have a nice day'. And we thought we were in the middle of nowhere!

When we studied the chart we decided against going all the way to Vasa as the channel to and from is twenty miles long -- a bit much, we thought, for an overnight stay. Instead we found an uninhabited island half way to Umea with an abandoned jetty. Well really the husband of the charming lady in the information office found it and told us about it. "He's a sailor. He'll know. I'll give him a ring!" What a wonderful country we were getting to know!

Jokkmokk, in the Arctic Circle, Monday 20 June

The longest day of the year. Martyn is on the hotel phone from the adjoining room: "The sky is clearing a little. What do you think?" We agree to try again. The previous night had been a flop with far too much cloud about. We drive up the nearby hill outside Jokkmokk to watch and wait. There is a small log cabin with hot coffee and cakes but it is not cold and there are few midges about. In silence we stand amongst the pines, the gorgeous smell of burning wood filtering through the slowly curling smoke, and watch the burning ball of fire dip towards the distant horizon and then, slowly, almost hesitatingly, climb again into the cloudless sky. No setting sun. Only, due north, that dance of fire.

A gale was waiting for us in Umea and delayed our trip south by two days. Throughout Sweden and Finland, the Mid-summer Bank Holiday falls on the weekend following the longest day of the year. Everyone goes to the country and in every village or inhabited island there seems to be a Maypole, richly decorated with leaves and coloured streamers, which is the focus of the revelries. To be in an attractive little harbour, instead of the rather grotty marina nextto Umea's huge ferry terminal, was obviously important if we were to enjoy ourselves.

In superb reaching conditions we covered thirty-two miles in the middle four hour watch and the whole sixty miles to Trysunda in exactly eight. I don't think any of us had ever made a faster passage. As we entered the enchanting little bay round which the tiny village nestles, the sun peeped out. By the evening there was not a ripple to disturb the water -- except those caused by a family of ducks going, no doubt, to their own party.

Trysunda, Saturday 24 June

I remember only two things about our party, or rather its aftermath: the first is that one of the smoked herring lost its head completely and was still asleep in the bilge this morning! Second, pirates arrived at breakfast-time to kidnap the lovely girl who had just become engaged to one of the lads on the boat alongside us. There were blood curdling yells and a battle of swords and cutlasses on the foredeck before she was whisked away by motor boat to screams of delight. Who says Swedes have no sense of humour?

All the Swedes we met in Trysunda seemed to come from nearby towns and cities and rarely cruised outside the hundreds of islands and bays in the area of Ulvoarna -- and who can blame them! Most sail in small yachts and enjoy a sailing-picnic-barbecue routine, with a huge choice of places to go. Everywhere we stopped there were stone circles for barbecues, built to minimise the risk of fire. No problems in finding wood in Scandinavia. Always, too, there were places for rubbish and usually a hut for a sauna (bastu in Swedish) if you were prepared to chop some wood.

We would have loved to stay longer in Trysunda but the urge to explore in the shortened time available after the gale proved too strong. We stopped for lunch at Mjolten Island, a nature reserve which has the highest peak in the whole area -- a giddy 236 metres -- which of course had to be climbed. For as far as one could see there were islands... We stayed the night at Bonhamn, twelve miles south and even prettier than Trysunda, and from here reluctantly set off for Nortalje near Stockholm. We could have spent much more time meandering, but we had a deadline to meet for a crew change.

Nortalje, Monday 27 June

After a damp night of fog, the skies were clear blue as we searched for the mark at the entrance to the channel which would lead us through the islands towards Nortalje. Oh the joy of warm sun on our faces and crystal clear air! We creamed along under full sail through breath-taking scenery.

Shortly after we had tied up at the charming marina next to a public garden a yachtsman told me: "Two boats were lost last week. Worst gales that I can remember -- 25 metres a second!" And then he added, "Summer began yesterday." (My calculator tells me that 25 metres a second is almost 50 knots.)

We did not know then that we were to enjoy the finest summer in the archipelagos that anyone could remember.

Island Hopping to Helsinki

Mariehamn is the capital of the ﾏland Islands -- and the only town. Although part of Finland, it has its own Parliament. It is an elegant town with much modern architecture and sculpture, parks and wide tree-lined streets, a total surprise after our trip through the northern ﾏland Islands a month earlier. The ferry terminal is large and the traffic with Helsinki and Stockholm considerable. There is a large Maritime Museum to remind one of Mariehamn's extraordinary achievements in world shipping in the 19th century. The marina is in the shadow of the old four-masted barque Pommern and has a superb sauna and restaurant. Charge: œ8 a night.

From the sophisticated delights of ﾏland's capital city we sailed to the remote outlying islands where permanent residents numbered three in one case and only one in another. Every day the sun shone and the seas sparkled and our smiles and sun-tans grew. Pilotage required our full attention and we often had to stop to make sense of the puzzle. Going east it was often impossible, even with help of binoculars, to distinguish one mark from another as they were all in silhouette and had no distinguishing marks, only coloured bands which could not be seen against the sun.

The breezes would start to fill in at about 1100 or 1130 and die away at about 2000. In the next five days we averaged only twenty-five miles a day, but the superb sailing will remain forever engraved on our memories.

Thursday 7 July

Warm gentle breezes. At 1445 we reach Bursto in the Finnish Archipelago. Stern anchor over the side: we are experts now. Only a few boats are in and we like to be early to explore. Smoke is curling upwards from the smokery by the wooden boathouses which are built so that the fishing boats can be lifted above the ice in winter.

A Finn, with round beer-belly and rumbling laugh, and his lovely wife with glistening red hair, help Eddie Volgesang (OCC) -- who with his wife Ica had joined us in Nortalje -- to negotiate our dinner of delicious smoked white fish, and then show us round the lovely old Folkboat that they have sailed from Helsinki. They advise us to avoid Hanko at the weekend because of the annual regatta and to go to Ekenas instead by way of Helsingholm, (for the best fish of all).

Each island has its own personality. At Helsingholm, Eddie earned his passage by negotiating the purchase of two delicious bass, chosen alive from one of the sheds, and gutted and prepared by the woman in charge -- all for œ1.00! On Jurmo, we were told that the two permanent residents never spoke to each other and lived in a state of perpetual war. On Sottunga, we met the owner of the island who looks after the interests of 120 people, rather like a feudal lord. He seemed a much harrassed chap.

Going east, and leaving early in the day, the low sun presented problems. South of Hanko I mistook one mark for another. We were sure where we were -- had identified the mark ahead, though it seemed further away than it should have been -- when `BONG', the keel scraped over a rock. A horrible moment. Throttle back: then a slow tight turn to the reciprocal to get away from danger and to sort out how we could possibly have got out of the channel. The confusion of lines on the chart, so much more difficult to read than the Swedish charts, had led us astray. We had been heading for the correct mark, but the wrong side of a rock.

Only cosmetic damage was done to the keel but my pride took a nasty knock. I was grateful for our shallow draft and that the rocks were glacier smooth.

The outer islands are low lying and often devoid of trees. As one nears the mainland shore, the trees become thicker and the islands completely wooded. Everywhere there are leading marks, sometimes in such profusion that they are confusing. Particularly confusing are the cardinals which have no triangles on their tops -- against the low sun, even with binoculars, it is often impossible to distinguish north from south or east or west. We often had to stop to sort ourselves out. On every sail, often only a few metres from the rocks, everyone was fully involved. It was enormous fun.

After dinner was usually the time for our daily walk. Jungle juice kept most of the mosquitoes away and we were rarely bitten. The views across the islands from the highest vantage points, often washed with a brilliant orange or red, were breathtaking. We would stroll back to the boat in clear daylight as the clock approached midnight. No wonder the Russians speak of the month of White Nights.

From Helsinki we went by Finnish train -- The Sibelius -- to enjoy the magic of St Petersburg and then by ferry to Tallinn, the lovely old Hansetic League city and capital of Estonia. Both cities deserve articles to themselves, as do Helsinki and Stockholm where we enjoyed many museums, concerts and restaurants. We were exploring new worlds and loved every minute of it.

The warm weather continued for our return, easier now with the sun behind us. Daily swims, Caribbean style, were enjoyed until we were a day's sail from the Keil Canal, when driving rain and a gale greeted us.

The cruise had been full of surprises: the almost mystical beauty of the islands, the speed with which the water heated up in July, the moderate prices of moorings including -- of course -- a sauna, the friendliness everywhere. We had chosen a wonderful summer, but any year the siren's call from the islands would have us back. During our ten weeks in the Baltic we had seen only four British yachts. The Gulf of Bothnia and the Archipelagos must be cruising's best kept secret.

Notes and Comments

1. FONDUE is 38ft LOA, 11.3ft beam, 5.3ft draft with a Tandem Wing Keel, built of red cedar and Mahogany by the WEST system. Maximum range under engine is 500 miles in still conditions.

2. DISTANCES: We covered 3500 miles, and were on the move for fifty-five days and in port for thirty-four, which included twelve days in the Stockholm area, twelve in Helsinki (for St Petersburg and Tallinn) and a week in Umea when we visited the Arctic Circle.

3. ENGINE: Engine hours totalled 340, including battery charging, and accounted for 40-45 percent of the distance covered even though we sailed at every opportunity. The only days when we did not sail at all were traversing the canals, in the Stockholm archipelago (both ways), through the ﾏland islands, and approaching Umea, Helsinki and Helgoland.

4. CHARTS: We used Admiralty charts for the passages to and from Holtenau and in the south-west Baltic. Even if you plan to sail direct to and from Kiel, the weather may have other ideas and a complete set of Dutch inland waterway charts as well as the Friesland islands is required. Swedish and Finnish charts are essential.

5. PILOTAGE: All the islands are low-lying and one relies on identifying marks -- often difficult to spot -- rather than rocks. According to the UK Hydrographic Office, both Swedish and Finnish charts are expocted to change to WGS84 datum by 1997. At present they do not record the horizontal datum shift as the Admiralty charts do, so care is required before plotting any GPS derived position.

6. GUIDES: The Imray-RCC guide is a splendid general introduction to the area and includes useful information on English weather forecasts. The detailed guides by the Swedish and Finnish Cruising Clubs are not translated into English and are only available to members. However most people speak excellent English and everyone offers help.

7. ANCHORING: Nearly always bows-to, either with a stern buoy or to an anchor (we carried a 7.5kg Bruce and a reel of nylon braid). A bow step-ladder is very useful.

8. GAS: We took four Camping Gaz bottles. After Keil we found only one place (in Stockholm) where they could be exchanged, so it is important to be self-reliant unless one wants to buy new Swedish bottles.

9. FUEL: No problem anywhere.

®IP0,4¯10. FOOD: Supermarkets are full of good things at prices similar to ours, except for out-of-season vegetables and liquor. We bought aquavit to drink with the fish and took plenty of duty-paid beer and wine.

11. LANGUAGE: No problems. Seemingly everyone everywhere was fluent in English, and all were incredibly helpful.

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