Outside, the wind was blowing at force 5–6 from the west, but inside, along the skerries and through the small natural channels, we were well sheltered. Sailing is practically impossible here anyway, and out there I wouldn’t have gotten any closer to my destination. So we motored along the beautiful Blindleia Strait for the first part of the journey. A real sightseeing cruise. We passed small settlements, vacation homes, harbors, rock formations…
This island belongs to the municipality, and anyone can dock there, camp, or just spend the afternoon. There is a small café run by volunteers, who in return get to live in the house on the island for free during that time.
We set sail from Rønnerhavnen at 3 a.m. It was already almost light out—or rather, it had never really gotten dark. The 100 nautical miles that Amy can normally cover in 24 hours would certainly take longer, since the winds were expected to be light. But the wind was coming from a fairly good direction.
After we had passed the large roadstead off Skagen, the first surprise awaited us just past the headland. The strong winds of the previous days had left behind quite a swell, coming from all directions. With light winds, Amy was tossed back and forth by the cross seas, and life on board quickly became miserable. It wasn’t until late afternoon that things finally calmed down, and by evening the sea had become smooth, allowing us a relaxed sail against a light headwind but still heading toward our destination.
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.
