Cast off in Lilla Bommen, Gothenburg's guest harbour. Under the bowsprit of the four-masted barque "Viking", out onto the river and down towards the sea. Our summer cruise with the Cruising Club of Switzerland has begun, once again on board the "Rolling Swiss 2". Two weeks lie ahead of us - and an extraordinary cruising area: the archipelago coast of the historic Bohuslän region. The panorama is characterised by barren rock right up to the Norwegian border. But when we look at the barometer (and the modern weather forecast), we immediately realise that it's not just the rough appearance that makes these 80 nautical miles known as Sweden's "Wild West": all signs point to a storm...
The Göta älv lies grey and empty in front of us, the flags on the shore flapping. Wind and clouds push towards us and it starts to rain"
We pass the gas and container terminal and the fairway beacons with their radar booms on the Rivö fjords. Behind the "12" we turn northwards, into the passage between Honö and Grotö. The day's destination is quickly reached; we cover only eleven nautical miles along the coast of Bohuslän until we enter the Öckerö harbour drive in. On the right, the shipyard with a fully rigged barque on the slip, a North Sea trawler and a whole series of smaller vehicles of the Försvarsmakten, the army, in their brown-grey camouflage scheme.
Öckerö: our first destination for the day
We moor alongside directly in front of the service building, next to a Princess from Norway. On land, windswept flower pots, a few unavoidable motorhomes and puddles in which the gusts play. Otherwise, the harbour is deserted. There is nothing here. Apart from the (closed) pizzeria with a 1.5-star rating, the (open) mini shop, which only sells sweets and sunglasses, and the quirky wooden shed with a barber's shop. I walk round past the shipyard until the path ends at a fence. I don't get any further along the bay either. Holiday homes that disappear into nothingness.
The last option is the natural climb up the rocks. A gravel path with benches that can be mastered in three minutes. Not very high here, but the panoramic view is the first highlight of the journey - in the truest sense of the word. A forged compass rose on the ground indicates the cardinal points: Stora Kalvsund runs from north to south and a few sailors can be seen. For a beautiful moment, the sun breaks through over the coast of Bohuslän.
From archipelago sheltered to Marstrand
First wake-up on board, the satellite image of the coast of Bohuslän at Windy is unfortunately unmistakable. After Öckerö, however, Marstrand is now at least one real tourist hotspot on the programme. It's a good thing that the distance is still manageable today at just under 24 nautical miles. We cast off at 12 noon. The throttles are pushed forwards, heading north. The display shows 8.5 knots.
We have the larger island of Björkö to starboard. The water is choppy here too, scattered whitecaps rise up, Stratocumulus moves eastwards above us before the wind at an impressive speed. Again and again, their large shadows cross the fairway and draw the colours out of the surroundings. The Källöfjorden is already much more open, and the adjoining Sälöfjorden also looks more like a wide lagoon.
At its western edge, a patchy barrier of rocks, the breakers repeatedly burst open in white."
Out on the Kattegat we already have wind forces of at least seven. It's going to get even stronger. Even here, the wind whips up the short waves into a patchwork of flying spray. Then Marstrandsö lies ahead with Carlsten Fortress, the landmark of Marstrand, visible from afar. The water only calms down somewhat in the lee of the buildings and the castle hill. We let the crowded pedestrian rope ferry pass and then take the bow to the concrete floating dock.
A consistent summer atmosphere prevails here. Even if windbreakers prevail and the summer dresses hanging in front of the chic boutiques sway in the wind and the napkins at the fish stall are only handed out on request. As clouds are on the way again and there has been hardly any movement today, I immediately shoulder my photo rucksack, climb down the bow ladder and make my way uphill along Hospitalsgatan to the fortress.
Marstrand: Wooden jewellery box
Marstrand is a jewel box of wooden architecture, built by wealthy people, that much is clear. Captains, certainly, but probably equally well-heeled Gothenburgers, with sufficient means, from wherever. Bay windows, towers, conservatories, in immaculate white and subtle pastel colours. Gardens and small courtyards from which voices can be heard. There are no cars here, it's all a bit reminiscent of Heligoland. We pass the church, where the pastor sings melodiously for three old ladies.
Then I'm at the foot of the fortress, walls and more walls, seventeenth century, a nested complex of warlike concepts on the edge of the sea. A few of the old breechloaders are still standing on a bastion facing the town. I head into the wind and reach the plateau to the west of the fortress. Here the view of the coast with the few offshore skerries is unobstructed. The odd lighthouse on the restless horizon. The sea off Bohuslän is in turmoil.
Is this really the Baltic Sea? The surf explodes on the reefs and shore rocks. This panorama looks much wilder".
It's cold in the shade of the clouds, but the sun comes out every now and then - at least for now. I finally walk back to the harbour, where the ferry is still running. In Marstrands Wärdshus, we get a table by the window, far enough away from the birthday party crowd of well-heeled young people on the terrace. Pripps Blå and fresh cod for all three of us. Outside, the holidaymakers hurry through the rain.
Behind the islands further north
The storm arrives the next morning. After a deluge during the night - as we learn later, half of Oslo was flooded - the wind is even stiffer in the sailing yachts' rigs than yesterday evening. In front of the pier there is a considerable cross-current from the water being pushed in. As decided yesterday, we will take the inner route due to the weather, heading north behind the large islands of Tjörn and Orust. Instead of Mollösund on the outer coast, our destination for the day will now be Uddevalla, deep in the interior of Bohuslän, almost an inland harbour. Around 37 nautical miles lie ahead of us, comparatively sheltered.
Our Swedish jetty neighbour knows his way around and still warns us about the Älgofjorden, which we have to cross."
How right he is: After leaving the land shield, we reach the fjord. Although the archipelago shields it from the Kattegat, the stormy north-westerly is enough for three nautical miles of approach to pile up the mass of incoming water into an impressive wind sea. The waves are steep, the frequency is short. The view from the saloon ahead is like being in a car wash, visibility is zero. Spray envelops us. The photos from the side door almost cost me my smartphone - because it's not just my boots that are full of salt water. An anxious quarter of an hour follows. I breathe a sigh of relief when it comes back to life.
The journey continues, quieter now, on the Hakefjorden, which is just under two nautical miles wide and separates Tjörn from the mainland. A dark silhouette of the high, rocky coastline over strangely storm-green water. Behind Tjörnbron, the sound finally narrows, but the sea remains empty. This goes on for a good hour without us seeing a single mast. Eventually we come across the Havstensfjorden, which stretches from the open sea as far as Uddevalla leads.
Uddevalla: almost inland
Here it gets lively again, but with the wind from astern, so that our Trader is now surfing instead of rolling. Passing under the high motorway bridge, we leave the commercial port of Uddevallas on the left and instead pass high silos and enter the river Bäveån. Just above the navigable estuary is the town's marina. The water is already there, the steps and jetties are flooded. Our jetty actually has a laminated sign with the name of the boat for the reservation.
Less than five minutes later, we are moored to the groaning jetty. It's ten to five. The new benches at the riverside park have blue markings in the form of wavy lines: In the year 2070, the sea level will reach up to the chest of those sitting on the benches due to climate change, and by the end of the century it will be up to their necks - at least.
Uddevalla in the morning: the wooden walkway on the promenade is shiny and wet from the rain. But the wind no longer has the same bite and the high water has receded. Yesterday, only a row of granite blocks was still visible. I have coffee and then head off to the Bohuslän Museum opposite. Admission is free. But inside, the building is more of a community centre than an exhibition. A photo project documents mythical creatures of the north that are threatened with extinction.
There are classics such as the mermaid, the troll and the elves. But there are also lesser-known representatives: the mysterious Askefro, for example, the eerie Sjörå or the wandering Irrbloss. The images look like they were generated using artificial intelligence, but appear to be real photographs. Quite an effort to capture something alive that doesn't exist at all.
The long way back to the outer coast
After another shower has passed, we cast off the lines. A look back at the cement stores, across the Byfjorden, under the bridge and on the Havstensfjord, this time heading straight west. It's as chilly as ever on the forecastle in the wind, but the fairway soon becomes narrower and more winding. We still have Orust to the south and the Bokenäset peninsula to the north. The water is now like a series of inland lakes separated by islands.
At Koljöfjorden we finally turn off to the north-west, into the very narrow passage that separates the mainland of Bohuslän from the island of Flatön. You can almost touch the rocks a few times; the channel on the other side, which is bordered by red floating poles, is barely three times the width of the boat. We prefer to wait for a larger Sunseeker on the opposite course, whose skipper thanks us from the flybridge. Now it's getting exciting:
After two days of "inland navigation" we hit the open sea again - but still with skerries as breakwaters."
We enter a long fjord, head south-west and have the town of Lysekil opposite. The wind is now coming from ahead with a force of 5 to 6, but the "Rolling Swiss" is coping well with the previously broken sea. Another two nautical miles and we enter the sheltered harbour of Grundsund. There is exactly one place free for us alongside, right at the front left of the pier with the white tyres. Lines over, engine off, we are back on the coast after our diversions! The young harbour master tells us how surprised she is to receive a new yacht today. The other berths are also occupied because nobody has left the harbour in the past two days due to the storm.
Grundsund: finally a sunset
Basic sound has charm. Under a cloudy sky, with the surf on the dark rocks and the generally wild panorama, it looks as if the place is not in Bohuslän, but a thousand kilometres further north, perhaps in the Lofoten Islands. Or even Iceland. For dinner, we go to Krögens Fisk & Krog on Lönndalswegen, right by the bridge over the canal, set up as if we were in our own living room, with great fish. And then comes the best part: after four long days, the sky finally shows mercy and clears up.
Rarely have I been more grateful for a sunset, especially over a stormy sea. We spend just under half an hour travelling along the beautifully designed wooden walkway over the coastal rocks while the spray crashes around the bathing ladders. We can't get enough of the colours, as if they really were a good omen. Just as crucial for the end of the day: we pass Hugo's Bu Bar, a wooden shed right next to the sea. The lights are on inside and boisterous voices can be heard outside:
We have to get into the cave," the skipper decides.
We are surrounded by woollen warmth. Under the low-hanging ceiling beams, the two guys at the bar serve us a Tail of a Whale fresh from the barrel, and we find a bar table by the window. It could hardly be better, while the first bright, cloudless Nordic night dawns outside.
The storm is over, Strömstad the destination
Sails everywhere: After three days of heavy weather, everyone takes the opportunity to finally make some distance again. We encounter many Norwegian motor yachts with high bow waves heading south. The sun is only supposed to shine until midday, but still! Between Lysekil and Smögen we enter the archipelago of Bohuslän: the round-washed and completely bare rocks form a labyrinth of reddish granite that repeatedly obscures the view of the horizon. How easy it is to get lost here.
We'll leave Smögen, which is also on the cruise plan, to one side for the time being: "It's high summer just in time for the weekend."
But as it is only supposed to last three days, we want to use it for the offshore islands, for Koster and Väderöarna. On the way back south, we will then have time again - albeit under grey skies. So we pass the Sotekanalen, which is just under three nautical miles long and begins north of Kungshamn, saving us the slightly longer journey around the Sotenäs peninsula, and arrive in Hunnebostrand in the late afternoon in a light drizzle.
We also only see Hamburgsund the next day in the rain. Huts and houses, red on the water, white in the second row, all with jetties, almost all with boats, cold barbecues in front of them, empty benches and deckchairs. Like curtains, the showers reveal the view or conceal it when they feel like it. But our anticipation grows, because on Friday evening in Strömstad, the last harbour in Bohuslän - and Sweden - in a harbour full of Norwegians, we are greeted by blue skies. Summer is here!
