Finland: Inarijärvi - Adventure north of the Arctic Circle

Text: Michael Junker

Arrival in Inari, Lapland, 260 kilometres north of the Arctic Circle. The town has around 450 inhabitants, Finns and Sami. We drive straight to the harbour on the shore of the lake, which we only know from Google Maps and a friend's photo. You can't see anything of the open Inarijärvi and its wide expanse of water. There are too many islands in front of the bay.

Inari: Arrival north of the Arctic Circle

We ask for the harbour master, but no answer. You arrive with your trailer, completely relaxed, it doesn't get dark, push the boat into the water and sail off - no need to ask. So off you go on an adventure! Lake Tegernsee at the foot of the Alps has eight square kilometres and one island, while Inarijärvi has 1100 square kilometres and 3000 islands.

The first impression: icy, with a headwind and whitecaps. The water temperature is 15 degrees. Fellow sailor Mia has cleverly already put on her oilskins. But our trimaran cuts through the waves well, we can maintain four to five knots, and after a few hours we reach our first destination for the day, Pielpavuono.

I'm exhausted. After the long journey with the VW bus and trimaran on the trailer from Bad Tölz to Travemünde, then by ferry to Helsinki, and then another two days northwards up to here, all the tension is gone. I had often wondered whether I would ever manage to cross the Arctic Circle in my own boat. To see the midnight sun once in my life! Now we are here. Admittedly, we have trailered, but the Tri is not designed for sea crossings.

The many pitfalls of the Inarijärvi

We strike up a conversation with a local at the jetty. He points out the pitfalls of the lake: Anchoring is usually impossible, there are too many large rocks and stones at the bottom. The wind direction and strength can change abruptly and the weather forecast is only good for one day at most, he explains. The best would be the data from YR in Norway.

Contrary to the map and Google Earth, there is no jetty on the island of Ukko. That's just as well, if the island is sacred to the Sami, as we learn from him, then we tourists don't have to trample around on it. After all, there are 2999 other islands.

Instead, we anchor off Hautuumaasaari, one of the few islands with a sandy beach, and paddle to shore. The sand is warm, the air is clear and the colours are intense. It is so quiet in the forest that you can only hear the rustling in your own ears. The forest floor smells of pine resin and birch trees. Suddenly we are standing in front of faded wooden crosses - Hautuumaasaari is one of two cemetery islands on Inarijärvi. It lies on the sandy bottom. Elsewhere, everything consists of rocks and large stones with only a thin layer of moss and lichen on top. The last burial here took place in 1904.

The best sailing day ever

Let's continue. Mia is the best helmswoman in the world, I take care of the sails and navigation. We don't have a plotter. I do everything with my finger on the chart, binoculars in my hand and one eye on the depth gauge! The maze of islands is very challenging. A rock with five trees on it has a diameter of one millimetre on the map. Fortunately, there is a sea mark every now and then. We reach the jetty on Suovasaaret at around 6 p.m., cook dinner and happily lie down in our mini cabin. This was by far the best sailing day of my life so far!

From one island to the next: we spend the next night on Kahkusaari, after a rainy day the sun is shining again as if nothing had happened and the wind is blowing lightly from the east - ideal. We motor for a quarter of an hour, then follow a winding fairway under sail and when we leave it between two islands, we see the open Inarijärvi in front of us for the first time! Fascinating - you come out of the forest and suddenly you can't see any land in front of you!

We glide almost silently across the water and sail to the other shore. Then I look to see if I can spot a sea sign somewhere. Every now and then there are big white signs with a black letter on them. That's very practical. Otherwise I look on my mobile phone, there's still a bit of reception. It always takes a while to match the outlines of the islands on the screen with the map.

Our northernmost point

We land on the island of Pikku Kahkusaari, and the next day we anchor at a cluster of huts that looks exactly like the others - but is not marked in red on our nautical chart. We're not really anchored yet when a bearded man comes and shouts in broken English: "Go away, it's private!" Okay, okay, so anchor up again! Unfortunately, it's jammed. We try it with the engine and a little momentum. It works! Remember: Only approach moorings marked in red and a triple line on the anchor is also a good idea! Everyman's right applies, but private is taboo!

Our alternative destination is a small bay off the village of Käyräniemi. We find it by chance when the sea marks on the chart don't quite match up with the approach in reality. We drive in carefully. Water depth 1.5 to two metres. The bottom looks boggy, ideal! The bay is open to the north and it should remain clear. I set the alarm for midnight - because today we can finally see the midnight sun. All the other moorings so far have been to the south, with the forest in the way to the north.

We set course for the second large open water area in the north of Inarijärvi. From now on, the mobile phone no longer has reception. We look for our mooring while Mia steers slowly along the shore - always keeping an eye on the depth gauge. We are almost past it when we see the jetty in a tiny bay, a small island in the middle of the entrance. We are well protected, we can only turn the boat by hand here, it is so narrow. Perhaps the most beautiful mooring so far. The place is called Pisteriniemi, and at 69° 11' north it is also our northernmost point.

The Inarijärvi makes its weather

When we return to the open lake the next morning, there is only a gentle breeze. But suddenly Mia calls out: "Look, that dark stripe ahead on the water!" I grab the binoculars. Whitecaps! And off we go. We try for another half hour, then the waves get too high and we turn back. But where is the entrance to the jetty? The shore forest looks like a green wall. We've only been out there for an hour and a half!

Great relief when we discover them. We hunker down and have a snack. Later, we paddle to the entrance of the fjord and see if we can get a weather report on our mobile phones. The wide lake is as smooth as glass. Four hours ago, the water was still boiling! On the beach, the vegetation only starts two metres above the waterline - no wonder. Two days later, we reach our easternmost point: Speinniemi. From here, the Russian border is only ten kilometres away. We don't go any further, we don't want any problems.

Now we head west again. The wind is light, which the tri doesn't like at all. We have to keep to the fairway. We try butterfly, mainsail and code zero, with reasonable success. After two hours we can turn south, but the wind shifts with us. The main comes down, code zero alone works much better! So we rush through the narrow passages between the islands, always following the track of the sun. The water of Inarijärvi glistens and sparkles, you only get light like this in the far north.

Mosquitoes are simply everywhere

At half past three we moor at a very short jetty in Korkia-Maura. There is supposed to be a special cave here. Mia finds the entrance. A small, adventurous wooden staircase leads down, then you're standing on bare ice. It doesn't disappear even in summer. We were told that hunters used to use this to store their prey.

Later on Iso Jääsaari we take the western jetty. A small open motorboat arrives with a Finn. I help him moor and lend him a line. He gives me his hand in thanks. We are very happy. Unfortunately, we have no idea how to gut the fresh catch! We can't communicate with him in words - he only speaks Finnish. But we manage with our hands and feet and he shows us how to do it. We fry the fish, served with rice, peas and tinned mushrooms. Delicious.

From the jetty at Inarijärvi you can see a rocky peak about 100 metres high. There are paths, not just the occasional small trail or tracks that get lost. I have no problems orientating myself in the forest - I've been doing this at home since I was a child. After half an hour, I'm at the top. I try to take a photo of the trimaran between the trees, but the midges are just everywhere. If you keep moving, you'll be fine, but if you don't move, they'll descend on you and it's very difficult to get rid of them.

We rush towards the south-west

It's getting colder and it's starting to rain. We move into the small hut, heat up the stove and enjoy the warmth. Visibility is getting worse and worse and we can no longer see the islands opposite, which are only a few hundred metres away. Our hut is the oldest one we have seen so far, but it is very well maintained and clean. We read, listen to the radio or listen to the raindrops on the roof. It's bearable here, and as it continues to rain, we stay a second night.

The wind remains. One island further on Kaamassaari, the gusts push us so hard against the jetty that we have to move on. This spot is completely unprotected and the next few days are set to be even more uncomfortable. After casting off, we set the jib and head south-west at seven knots. We cross a wind gust and have to lower the sail, but after a quarter of an hour under engine we are once again within the cover of the islands and we can continue to Hoikka Petäjäsaari in peace.

Apparently a popular place! Here you can see motorboats and private cabins on the shore, even larger ones. As we observe the surroundings, my reading glasses fall into the water. It's already too dark to dive due to the clouds, so I wait until morning. Luckily it's not deep and I find the glasses on the first attempt. After a few hours, they are already covered in a fine film. Easy to remove, I think. No way! Even with washing-up liquid, I can only get the glasses clean. Interesting.

A tree trunk as a breakwater

To the south, we can see higher rock faces towering a kilometre away. Our hike leads pathlessly over hill and dale. Rocks, lichens, mosses and stunted trees on both sides, with a blue sky and white clouds above. But for the second time that day, we realise just how tenacious nature is up here - the mosquitoes can't even be driven away by the wind and mercilessly exploit every moment of inattention.

It almost makes you happy that a storm is forecast! Our circle is slowly closing anyway, and as we need a safe place for the predicted heavy weather, we choose a place that we already know from our first days on the Inarijärvi: Suovasaaret. As on our first visit, we lay down behind the jetty with the bow facing the forecast wind. We take out a lot of extra lines and go to bed with peace of mind.

Around midnight it starts to chop and the boat pulls harder on the lines than expected: the waves run unchecked under the jetty. In the morning, dead tired, we retire to the hut on land and light a fire. It's not cold, but the warmth is good and we can catch up on sleep. At lunchtime, we use an old tree trunk to build a floating breakwater for the tri. The ship is much calmer now.

Sailing under the midnight sun

The next day, the wind picks up more and more. It's a good thing we stayed in the hut. Foam streaks blow into the bay. But it's a marvellous weather spectacle! The sun alternates with clouds and rain showers again and again. Mia goes into the open shelter and starts cooking, we can't go any further anyway. She is thrilled with the view and says it's the most beautiful kitchen in the world. A large window, a table with benches, a bucket and our rocket stove. Luxury is relative.

It gets even better: from 5 p.m. onwards, the wind is supposed to suddenly drop to just two gusts and the sun is supposed to shine - and the miracle actually happens: as if at the push of a button, it calms down and the clouds break up. We leave the tangle of islands to the north-west under motor. On the open sea, the breeze turns from south to north-east. Perfect! We can set sail, with a dramatic sky ahead and a low sun. I switch on the radio, a classical music station, the sounds of Wagner. The background music could hardly be more fitting.

Later we are in Pielpaniemi. We have noodle soup with tea and a piece of chocolate. Mia goes to sleep, but I'm still totally wound up. As the last clouds disappear and the wind almost dies down, I think about how I once wanted to sail in the sunshine at midnight. If not now, then when? Mia stays in the bunk, so I cast off alone, set sail and sail about three kilometres south until the trees are small enough. At midnight, the sun is already very low, but still fully visible. That I can experience this.

Farewell to Inarijärvi

We still have a few days left, but rain is forecast for tomorrow. So the decision is easy: because you should always stop when it's at its best, we sail back to Inari, the starting point of our adventure north of the Arctic Circle, in glorious sunshine.

After three marvellous weeks, we slip the trimaran out of the water and dismantle it. But there is still some time left: so we spend one night in the VW bus at the campsite, then leave the trailer and drive to Nordkapp. It's only 380 kilometres by road. A small thing when you're already up here!