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Kestrel’s 2014 Summer Programme is her third pilgrimage to the idyllic cruising grounds of the central Baltic, and all of us who have sailed there have fallen in love with the wild and beautiful scenery, the saunas and the general air of being on holiday which pervades Scandinavia in the short Summer months.

The Stockholm to Helsinki leg which I was privileged enough to skipper took us North East out through the Swedish archipelago and across the short stretch of open water towards the Åland Islands. From there we skirted the Finnish archipelago and later on the Finnish mainland towards Helsinki.

By the time we had found Kestrel and stowed our bags, the crew were in dire need of refreshment! We embarked upon an abortive search for a bar, returning, disillusioned with Saturday nights out in Stockholm to a bilge-cooled beer in the cockpit - Kestrel proving once again her formidable potential as a social venue.

Around lunchtime on Sunday 13^th July with our last crew member and about a ton of provisions onboard we bid farewell to Stockholm on passage to Bullando where Kestrel had an appointment on club business. We arrived rather late at night but just in time for the crew to catch the last few minutes of the World Cup Final between Germany and Argentina in the marina bar! I concerned myself with tidying up the mooring lines. Philipp, our onboard German, returned very satisfied and we retired to our bunks.

We were finally ready to leave the next morning for the archipelago. The sun was shining, the shiny gold plastic crown which we discovered onboard was appropriated to the helmsman and we had a glorious reach North across Kanholmsfjarden and round the island of Möja before turning East towards our first island destination, Björkskär. We did this ‘off piste’ through an area of rocks and narrow leads which to the eye looked like clear open water. The chartplotter was invaluable here as many rocky dragons lurked just below the surface!

Talking of dragons, we were much amused to find a pot of herbs in the galley with the word ‘dragon’ written on the label. Over a couple of days, amusement became obsession and ‘dragon’, or tarragon as we know it, found its way into almost everything on the menu.

Björkskär it turned out is a popular spot and rightly so. A narrow channel leads between two islands and provides excellent shelter. The routine of dropping the kedge anchor off the stern and nosing up to a friendly-looking rock was unfamiliar to most of the crew and it took a while for us to get all the bits and pieces in the right place on the boat but our first approach went perfectly and we threw our lines to some friendly Swedish neighbours. No sooner were the lines secured to the rings in the rock, the final log entry made and the sail cover on than the heady smell of juniper wafted up the companionway…

Björkskär also saw the first appearance of the menagerie of inflatable animals which had stowed away in Matthew’s luggage. Two crocodiles, Clarence and Terrance (who it was decided were having a gay love affair) two dolphins, two rubber rings and a rather large killer whale which we christened Olivier. This inflatable flotilla spread the holiday atmosphere in concentric rings around the boat and proved a formidable fighting force in the many battles which broke out. The dinghy with 5 members of crew aboard only narrowly escaped being attacked by a vicious crocodile piloted my Matthew!

As we sailed East through the Årland Islands and the Finnish archipelago we were able to find remoter places to stay and rarely had the company of other boats. I rather enjoy uncharted inlets, apart from the solitude there is a certain excitement and a feeling of going ‘where no man has gone before’, and providing there are look outs for rocks stationed on the bow and you creep in at less than a knot all should be fine. We traversed a narrow gap between two islands and crossed a broad lead of water towards our chosen spot on the 19^th July, a sheltered looking lagoon. The topography around the edges gives an indication of what the contours of the bottom may be like and this one had a few large rocks but was mostly quite low with beaches of small boulders. Nosing up to the entrance and finding the depth dropping to half a meter below the keel confirmed my suspicions that this was a bit shallow for Kestrel. I didn’t want to nose in somewhere getting in quite by chance, negotiating the keel between uncharted rocks, only to find I couldn’t find my way out again! We tried the next inlet to the south and despite low-ish rocks either side it proved deeper with about 2m under the keel. Better still a very large, almost vertical rock face appeared, indicating a steeply shelving contour. This looked much more promising and indeed so it proved to be. It was also arguably our most picturesque anchorage, tucked in amongst islets and trees, and the large rock provided an excellent view out over the archipelago and down to Kestrel moored at its foot. Our unnamed island at 59°57'.55N 20°17'.70E is highly recommended!

Throughout our voyage from Stockholm we had experienced clear, sunny and increasingly hot weather and equally pleasant wind for sailing. As we headed South East down Österfladen towards Österskär the sky began to close in from the East and lightning flicked on the horizon. It was hardly surprising that with so much heat and moisture in the air we should have a thunderstorm! We skirted the edge for an hour or two, hoping it would pass or move away but it became clear that was unlikely. Several yachts some miles ahead of us had disappeared into the gloom and as darker clouds approached we decided to take in the no.1 jib altogether and put two reefs in the main, expecting a big increase in wind speed. I have heard a saying that the moment you’re wondering IF you should reef the sails is the moment you SHOULD. If the visibility dropped I didn’t want to have much sail up with so many rocks around especially if we should lose any instruments to a lightning strike. To reduce this likelihood Philipp and I wrapped the anchor chain around the shrouds and dangled the end over the side into the sea to provide additional earthing, the radar was switched on as the air thickened, and all electrical items, handheld VHF, phones, cameras etc, were put in the oven which acts as a protective Faraday Cage.

As expected, the visibility dropped, and in dramatic fashion. A white line of mist appeared on the water ahead, almost as if the surface of the sea were being sucked up by the force of gravity, yet the air above remained reasonably clear. As it drew nearer we saw this was spray from an incredibly dense band of rain. It hit us suddenly like a sheet of solid water but without the gust of cold wind I was expecting. There was no howling from the rigging as you might get from a squall in the UK, just the hiss of water on water and the drumming on the deck, it was eerily beautiful. Those brave souls up on deck were rewarded for their soaking with a slice of marble cake, which we all agreed was rather dry and needed moistening! After perhaps 15 minutes the rocks we could see as pink blobs on the radar began to emerge and the visibility improved. The wind had died completely leaving an oily calm and a steamy hot atmosphere so we motored the last couple of miles to Österskär.

No one wanted to arrive into Helsinki, the city that heralded the end of our trip, but there was one consolation - Zetor. The review read as follows: "There’s a vast bar-restaurant in Helsinki called Zetor (‘Tractor’), where Finns go to sit on hay bales, admire each other’s checked shirts, then indulge in wildly drunken barn dancing" How could we possibly go anywhere else?! We donned our checked shirts (which we’d all brought specially for the occasion) and found our way past the friendly bouncer’s selective age restrictions and marvelled at the crazy mad world of Zetor.

A couple of tequila shots later (thanks Matthew), Dan Roberts, Kestrel’s next skipper appeared, looking a bit nervous. The new crew had arrived but there was a ‘slight altercation’ at the door and a problem getting in. We looked towards the door to see the massive black and white head of Olivier, the inflatable killer whale rising above the crowd! ‘Slight problem’, eh? The new crew had proved to be no slouch when it came to a night out and had brought the menagerie of inflatable animals which we had cunningly concealed and inflated, in all the cupboards in the yacht, along too! Matthew managed to work his magic and got them in, providing the animals were deflated. The bouncer admitted that in 12 years of bouncing he had never seen anything like it! Needless to say, after some dancing and a few more drinks, and when the clock had seen 2am come and go, we re-inflated the animals and roared through the streets back to Kestrel.

The sun rose a couple of hours later, perfectly reflected in the flawless mirror of the sea and, trusty straw hat firmly wedged on my head, we departed for the airport.

So ended our two weeks of Kestrel’s Baltic cruise. The archipelagos along our route are some of the most stunning places I’ve ever sailed and I’ve no doubt we shall return before too long. My thanks to a fantastic crew, Thea, Matthew, Beth, Hannah, Erik, Philipp, Iris and Iona, (plus Olivier, Clarence, Terrance, and the dolphins of course) and last but not least the ever dependable and long-suffering ‘Kestrel’ for making this such a memorable trip!

Oliver Beardon

Skipper 12-26^th July 2014