Getting to know Stockholm from the water side - part 1
Earlier this year in summer, I was very lucky to have gone out on boat trips twice in the Stockholm archipelago. It was also the first time I had been in Sweden for summer in 8 years, and I felt slightly emotional thinking about it, because I had not expected to be away for so long.
Sweden has the largest number of islands in the world. It’s unsurprising that the Vikings were known for their boat making skills.
Almost every Swede I know has access to a boat, whether it’s in the family, or owned by a friend. It’s almost a national right to enjoy the waters in summer on a boat. Not surprisingly, many people like fishing. After asking a few people what they enjoyed the most about fishing, it because clear that the best part was actually the sitting and waiting, enjoying the moment on the water, and oftentimes, the intimacy of the conversations with your fishing companion. Fishing is a container for that connection to happen.
First boat trip out - Spontaneous test run
A few days after I arrived in Stockholm, Ken and I spontaneously decided take the boat out. We were on our way to the second hand shop (my go-to for any clothes I do not have, on this nomadic life), and the weather was so nice we u-turned and went home to pack up a picnic and sleeping things. A subway and bus ride later, we were at the wharf where the boat was. We cleaned the boat a little and loaded up the ice box with our picnic, and off we went.
Except the old boat didn’t start so easily. Ken looked at me as he continued trying to start the motor, “It’ll start.” He had conviction in his voice and eyes. A few minutes later, the boat was still struggling. I internally noted that Ken would probably excel at projecting calmness in an otherwise panicky situation.
Finally, the motor rumbled into a purr and we pulled out of the harbour. It is so easy to feel carefree when you are on a boat in calm waters. Everyone should try it. There were many other boats around, lots more fancy than ours. Just like cars, there can be a bit of a penis-measuring culture amongst certain boat owners. Case in point, we passed some outdoor boat showrooms with 1 million SEK price tags displayed prominently. What’s the difference, when you’re out on the water and the sun on your face and gentle breeze in your hair. We rolled along at about 6 knots per hour, a very leisurely pace.
“We could go faster, but I like this pace. I feel this is my comfortable pace. It’s also not so nice to create big waves for other boats by going too fast.”
We stopped by a marine gas station to fill up on gasoline. Ken had to sort of parallel park the boat and he wanted me to throw a length of rope to the teen who was manning the station. Turns out he did not need the rope at all, and because I did not understand what was going on, what ensued was a hilarious moment. I threw the rope at him, he did not catch it, but it hit his face and he just batted it away like it was a nuisance. I was deterring him from doing his job. He grabbed the sides of the boat and pulled it in to help us park. He didn’t have any visible reaction to being hit on the head with a length of rope by a confused woman. I noted the absence of snarkiness, which is nice.
After about 3 hours, we decided to stop at a little island in the more open waters. There was a natural harbour and the waters were calm. There would not be too much movement during the night - ideal for sleeping. It took more than a while to anchor the boat however, as Ken only gave me vague instructions the first time round about throwing down the anchor. When we started the motor to draw the anchor a little on the seabed, the rope got caught in the propeller. Ken spent a good amount of time and creativity getting us out of that situation, involving another length of rope and lying belly-down on the tiny platform near the motor.
This is what I’ve learnt about anchoring a boat.
You could do it alone, but it is much easier with a partner
You throw the anchor down about 10m away from your intended final resting point, drive straight slowly, and then get off the boat and onto land with a length of rope and pull the boat slowly in while the other person manages the slack on the anchor-side rope. Basically it’s two people working to align the boat with two anchor points - front and back.
When you have finally gotten the boat in the exact position you want - try not to have it near rocks, which we didn’t exactly manage - anchor land-side by tie the rope to a tree or a rock. We did it around a huge rock.
The hard work of anchoring done, we went exploring a little. Delightfully, there were smultrons* - Swedish woodland strawberries. These are really tiny, smaller than a fingernail, and super sweet. Ken showed me how to collect them. You skewer them on a reed or a piece of grass. I had collected a handful of them by this time and was too lazy to skewer them, so I just stuffed all of them in to my mouth to get an explosion of strawberry juice.
*I also discovered that Smultron is a text editor for macOS that is designed for both beginners and advanced users, named after the Swedish word for the woodland strawberry.
We got back to the boat, made the bed and had a lovely dinner while I let my gaze soften on the shimmering water. We’d brought a speaker but I never felt the desire to turn it on. The sound of birds and water lapping on the rocks, the occasional creaking of the boat, and a soft velvety silence was far more satisfying. I did find myself humming and singing a little sometimes. We fell asleep looking up at the sky, which only darkened for a while between 11 pm and 3 am. I woke up at 4 am for the forth time in a row since arriving, but we snoozed till 7 am. Breakfast was a soygurt bowl with fruit and granola, and I cut a passionfruit in half and scooped the insides out to top the bowl - this I picked up from another friend.
While on the ride back, I took over steering for a while. It is not that difficult, and I am so happy that I have found another vehicle that I can drive without a driver’s license (the others are: small scooter like Scoopy, and a golf cart in Siem Reap). I always feel like a liability on road trips (the few I have been on), because I cannot help drive and let the other driver rest. But I can with a boat! The rules in Sweden are quite relaxed and based on personal responsibility, which only works when everyone takes it seriously. You don’t need a license to drive a boat, but need to ensure that you are sufficiently skilled to not be a danger to yourself or others.
These are some things I learnt about steering a boat.
Keep a visual target in the distance in the direction you’re heading in. The further away this is, the smoother the ride there.
When you want to turn, you have to anticipate and start turning the steering wheel far earlier than you think. This depends on how fast you’re going as well. It gets easier and more intuitive with practice.
When meeting oncoming traffic - another boat - pass them on the right. They will also probably wave hello and look sunburnt.
All day, I found myself yawning a lot, even though I have rested a lot. Ken laughed.
“You are so used to being busy that when you’re relaxed, your body feels tired.”
I don’t know if that is true, but certainly I am happiest when I have some work! In Sweden, apparently people have so much vacation they don’t know what to do with it. I would probably just find more work - maybe unpaid. That’s kind of what I did back in summer 2015. I was here on exchange, ended my research project in May, and had a gig lined up for summer. I had seen a post in the Facebook group for Singaporeans in Sweden about a bespoke learning experience company (Skillseed) looking for someone in Stockholm to help organise a weeklong programme for Beijing high school students on a trip to Sweden, around the theme of public policy and education. That was my very first learning experience gig, I suppose. I’d never have imagined that 7 years later, I’d work as an actual learning experience designer combining storytelling, worldbuilding, teaching and technology integration skills. While traveling and learning. This life can be wild.
Just before we got back into the wharf, I insisted on swimming, because we didn’t get to do that at the island. We put the anchor down and I jumped in. The water was about 18 degrees, not freezing nor super warm. Just Swedish. It was awesome. Then Ken tried getting in, but he lowered his legs in and tried to go in slowly, and that was enough time for his body to tap out. His body still remembers the pain from our ice bathing in January in Boden. According to him, ice bathing for men is a lot more painful - it feels like a knife slicing through your balls and emanates throughout your body. Gotta suffer for them balls, I guess. When we pulled up the anchor, there was lots of clay on it from the seabed. Ken suggested collecting it and seeing if we could use it, but it smelt so dank. I threw it back.
We made it safely back to the wharf and Ken parked the boat successfully on his first attempt. He was surprised, and I’d like to think it is because I helped. After we got off, he said that was actually the first time he had taken the boat out by himself, and it was the first time he had to instruct someone (me) to help. The boat belonged to his Dad, who passed recently, and his Dad loved being out at sea, and knew many places in Stockholm but only from the water side, not the land side. Ken has lots of stories about boat trips out with his Dad and brother. Ken and his brother had wanted to sell the boat but in the end, decided to keep it even though it is very old. They’re going to refurbish it and extend its lifespan, and having been on the boat, I can say this is a fantastic idea. This is a vessel with more stories yet to tell.