I am in Rønnerhavnen, have just finished eating, and am drinking a relatively expensive (but for Scandinavian countries still pretty cheap) Danish beer from a can. The sun still hasn’t set (it’s past 10 p.m.). The 2026 Swedish Midsummer Festival will have to take place without Amy and me again this year.
I had really wanted to go—and everything was looking good—but here I am, in a small, quiet marina in Denmark south of Skagen, practically right across from Gothenburg. It is only dark here for two hours just as over there. And they even have palm trees on the beach. And maybe those kind of celebrations are overrated anyway. After all, I once had a very memorable—though not necessarily pleasant—experience at a gig during the IKEA Family Midsummer Crayfish Feast in Berlin … but I digress.
So the trip to the Gothenburg archipelago didn’t work out. After all, my trip wasn’t going to stop there—I want to go further. First to Scotland, where Zissi will join me, and then even further. Given the forecasted wind directions for the coming days, I’m in a much better position here than I would be there.
After two years of repairs and improvements to the boat (which, unfortunately, are barely noticeable at first glance) and virtually no sailing, we finally set off from Greifswald on Tuesday evening after a lot of preparations. Frank had cooked dinner (thanks a lot, man) so I wouldn’t have to cast off on an empty stomach and then rode his bicycle to see me off in Weck. Just outside the Bodden off Thiessow, Amy and I spent a horrible night at anchor with so much swell that I had to hold on to the bunk.
It was still very cold and had been extremely windy right up until the weekend, but as far as the wind was concerned, it looked like I’d be able to sail all the way to Gothenburg in one go.
One of the improvements on the boat was the new biocide-free antifouling. Logically, of course, it doesn’t prevent fouling, but you can wipe it off easily. That means, that you have to get in the water and dive. I’d somehow imagined that things would be different in mid-June (more like summer) but it was important to get the stuff off for the longer trip that lay ahead. On Tuesday morning at the anchorage, the water temperature was 14 degrees, and the air temperature was 12. I managed to survive in my wetsuit, but after an hour in and under water, I was wiped out. But I was ready to go. Off to the Gothenburg archipelago!!
We were much faster right from the start, and everything went smoothly. Much more beating into the wind, than I’d hoped for, but we made good progress. There were a ton of offshore wind farms to navigate around and through, and a lot of ship traffic in the Kadett Channel, so getting even 20 minutes of sleep was out of the question for the time being. But I was full of energy and happy to be on the water, and so everything went smoothly all the way to the entrance to the Øresund the next morning.
It was a glorious summer day on the Øresund, and the wind was blowing from the right direction. As a result, it was as crowded as the Wannsee on a summer weekend. So once again, sleep was out of the question, and by now my energy was really starting to fail. In the evening, at the entrance to the Kattegat, we had to tack against the wind, and because of a foul current, we tacked for three hourswithout really getting anywhere. I was already frustrated when I started the engine, but when a few yachts sailed past me while tacking under sail as well, I was in such a bad mood that I thought about scrapping my plans and turning back. What am I doing here? I can’t even sail properly yet. And all sorts of thoughts like that.
The Kattegat was completely empty, and after a few hours I couldn’t bear the engine noise anymore, so I continued sailing at 1.5 knots—it was incredibly peaceful—and I was finally able to lie down.
Before that, however, there was a change of plans: Another improvement on Amy is the new amateur shortwave radio I installed. To do that, I had to go through a relatively complex exam to get the license. But now I can check the weather underway much better and more easily than ever before—theoretically, whereever I am. So far, it’s been working like a charm. With the new weather report, however, it also became clear that the eastern side of the Kattegat—where Gothenburg is located—would be anything but ideal as a starting point for my further sailing toward the west in the near future. Hence the plan to head to Skagen. But since the harbor in Skagen is relatively expensive, I opted for this one: Rønnehavnen with its palm beach.
So now I was well-rested, and the next day was pure bliss. All my doubts had vanished, and I was enjoying life. I had the feeling that I was slowly getting my sea legs back (or at least a little bit).
…Until the gale warning came in from Lingby Radio. After checking the weather conditions again—thanks to my great new device—it seemed relatively unlikely for my direct route, but since it concerned the Kattegat, I had a lump in my throat. After all, I still had about 18 hours ahead of me, and heading to a closer port would have meant another long wait before being able to go on.
To make it short: There were no further complications at all. The wind picked up a bit, and we flew along with the wind; around half past midnight, we reached the harbor and found a suitable spot.
