a sample of Nordic archipelago

Jurmö and its tiny village

The sky is grey, but even under this lead color, it is magic. Though, the nice purring of the Yanmar got rough this morning and sounded more like the asthmatic old one. Something is not quite right, no doubts. We definitely have to have it checked as soon as possible. To add to our frustration, the RPM gage stopped to work, then the oil pressure alarm goes on for no reason but to put more stress on us. Despite all that and the drizzle which does not stop, I still enjoy being here. Today we stop at Jurmö, an island Magnus knows from last year, big enough to harbor a tiny village. After tying up at a deserted little marina, we take a long walk looking for berries. Despite the drizzle and grey skies, a high pressure is building up, creating northerly winds all in our favors. We still have a long way to reach Mariehamn, on Äland. We won’t be sightseeing, just passing through. Although I feel like a Japanese tourist on a charter vacation, I experience the exhilarating feeling of freedom, having the liberty to stop or go at will and belonging nowhere than to the red little ketch silently gliding among the islands. As pearls on a string they parade before my eyes charged not only with history of seafaring, Viking raiding, war between neighbors, but also reminisce of last ice age which has carved those rocks, flattened them, rounded them, soften them to smooth shiny harmonious shapes. Not only you have to look out for pleasure, but also have to be very alert as it is a very challenging navigation, as channel markers have to be identified continuously. A detailed chart is a must.