This is my story about how seven strangers became a chosen family on a weeklong sailing trip on the West Coast of Sweden.

It all started in Skärhamn, just a one-hour drive north of Gothenburg. Upon arrival, our skipper, Gustav, and host, Emmy, gave us a safety briefing and explained practical matters, such as how the toilets and boat systems work. All our questions were answered, and we were ready for our trip.

Over a shared welcome drink in the cockpit, the ice broke as everyone gave a brief self-introduction and shared their reasons for booking the trip.

Did they reveal their true selves? Perhaps. We had seven days to find out. Although Grace was a relatively large sailing vessel, it had limited space, and we all shared responsibility.

Seven separate worlds

We were seven people who had never met before. There were Eva and Lars, a couple in their eighties, two sailing enthusiasts who had owned their own sailboats. Both knew the west coast of Sweden like the back of their hands. Now they wanted to experience a sailing trip without the responsibilities of setting sail, navigating, and docking.

Then there were Laura and Sofie, two bloggers from Denmark on a mission to report for a Danish online travel magazine. Two young women in their twenties, two adventurers searching for something beyond achievement?

Denise, from Germany, was the author of six books. She was curious about what a week of sailing would be like, and little did we know she had a surprise for us in the middle of the week. Is she the skeptic who believes friendships are temporary?

Kirill from Finland was a financial director who had finished several annual reports and now needed to step away from the business world for a while. He seemed like a quiet observer who noticed everything but rarely spoke.

I, an editor and storyteller, happened to share a cabin with him. I might describe myself as the funny storyteller who uses humor to avoid vulnerability.

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Related: Sailing in Sweden: Discover the Tranquil Waters and Rich Maritime Heritage
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Our first day on the Swedish West Coast Archipelago

The skipper and the host untied the lines from the dock early in the evening; the sun was visible behind light clouds. Stepping onto our 42-foot catamaran felt entirely different from my previous experiences on traditional sailboats. There was no frantic shifting of weight, no grabbing for handholds as we left the protected bay. The boat simply lay on the water like a floating raft, wide, stable, and remarkably still. With a push of the throttle, we set out from the dock. The catamaran was on a three-hour passage to a hidden harbor.

It was quite windy, so the skipper decided to motor. Rougher weather rolled in, causing the boat to bounce and roll on the waves. Denise got mildly seasick, and Emmy and Gustav brought her crackers and water. Overcoming such a small challenge began to create a bond among the group.

Eva and Lars were the only ones who had arrived by car and had the privilege of bringing a bottle of Gammel dansk liqueur, which they kindly shared with those who wanted to toast a successful week. Alcohol was not included in the menus.

Heading for the small island of Gullholmen

Gullholmen has a friendly atmosphere, with small alleys meandering among old fishing cottages and boathouses. There are a few restaurants and cafés in the harbor area, and we were all free to do whatever we wanted. I would have bought a bottle of wine to bring on board, but realized there were no alcohol outlets on the island. In Sweden, the sale of alcohol is state-controlled.

After a short walk, I decided to go on board and unpack my belongings. I believe everyone felt a little awkward at first, unpacking our gear into tight cabins.
It was quite late in the evening, and the sun was just beginning to sink for a short Swedish summer night. It was a quiet night, with a few of us enjoying the light summer air while others went to sleep early.

When I entered my cabin, I realized I was alone. Where was Kiril, my roommate? It turned out that he had brought his sleeping bag and spent the night on the solid forward decks.

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Related: Quality Sailing – The Swedish Way
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Delicious Lunches

The next day at lunchtime, we anchored off the small island of Hållö, outside Smögen on the mainland. Chicken salad was served, and Emmy had conjured up a cold buffet, beautifully arranged like the best restaurant. She bought local produce every day and prepared our meals with a calmness I have seldom seen, even in a professional kitchen. It impressed us all.

We were all impressed by her cooking:

From Hållö, we could either take a dinghy to the mainland to visit the hostel there or stay on board. Lars told us that the hostel on Hållö, known as Utpost Hållö, was in a main building originally constructed in 1922 by the Royal Telegraph Board. It served as a telegraph and radio bearing station before being renovated and opened to the public as a hostel in 1998. He had been there for several memorable celebrations, he said.

It turned out to be storytelling time. He shared with us the story of the Brig Bluebird, a ballad by the poet Evert Taube. In the song, Captain Karl Stranne and his father (legendary local fishermen from Smögen) spot the doomed ship. Amid the panic of the rescue, the crew leaves a young English sailor, Karl, tied to the helm to keep him from being swept overboard. When the ship hits the rocks, he survives by clinging to the mast. While the ballad feels authentic to the harsh realities of the Bohuslän coast, it is largely a work of poetic fiction. The story is likely inspired by a combination of actual shipwrecks in the 1870s, including the English brig Nymph, which wrecked near Smögen. The Stranne family did exist, but they were Taube’s friends and neighbors, not participants in the wreck. Spotify came to our rescue, and we listened to the song through the boat’s sound system.

During the meals on board, our conversations grew deeper. We got to know each other better.

Kiril said he had studied economics at the University of Bodø in Norway. Who would have thought a Finn would go to Norway to study? He told us he was born in Russia.

This afternoon, our trip continued through the Soten Canal to Hunnebostrand. The motion was gentle, and we spent time watching the blue water trail behind our twin hulls and the nice summer houses along the canal’s shores. Sotenkanalen is 4.8 kilometers long. Outside, the sea is open and exposed, and the surrounding area is known for some of Sweden’s most dangerous waters. Therefore, the Swedish Parliament decided to build a canal in 1930.

Now, Gustav navigated to the small, lovely seaside village of Hunnebostrand (pronounced a bit like honey-bow-strand), where the population swells in summertime as many Swedes head to their summer houses and/or yachts.

Hunnebostrand is a waterside delight. We all went ashore to explore local markets and hike to scenic viewpoints. The Danish bloggers, Laura and Sofie, found it the ideal place to hunt for authentic Swedish West Coast motifs, while Kiril decided to swim in the sea. At 16 degrees, the water was too cold for the rest of us.

I told you Denise had a secret. She revealed it was her birthday yesterday. Her friends back home were disappointed when she told them there would be no celebration this year because she had chosen to go sailing. Normally, she celebrated her birthday for a whole week, she said, so there was no reason not to plan a small celebration on board. My search for a systembolag to buy wine suddenly felt more meaningful. None of the places we had visited were large enough to have a wine outlet. However, we were now sailing to Fjällbacka. There is no wine monopoly there either, but we checked online that the nearest town, Grebbestad, had an outlet open until 6 p.m. Kiril and I learned that if we caught the next bus when we arrived, it would give us fifteen minutes of shopping time, assuming it wasn’t too far to walk from the bus stop. It turned out the outlet was across the street, and we were finally able to buy wine and celebrate Denise that evening.

It sparked a conversation about what birthdays and friends mean, about celebrating different days in general, and, not least, about how seven strangers weren’t strangers anymore. The group dynamic had shifted from “strangers” to a tight-knit circle of friends.

The next morning, I woke up early to find Denise and Kiril reading quietly on the bow. Both avid readers, they had shared a great deal of literary knowledge throughout the night. Kiril, by the way, didn’t sleep on the deck every night. He was a pleasant roommate. We shared the cabin, and none of us was snoring.

Arriving at Malmön

A little south of Smögen on Bohuslän’s west coast lies an island where people have subsisted on fishing, farming, and boat transport for centuries. For a couple of centuries, granite quarrying and stone carving were also important industries, but now tourism dominates.

At Malmön, we experienced beautiful cliffs, sheltered coves with sandy beaches, and white wooden houses with lush green gardens. Malmön has a small center with narrow streets, white wooden houses, and green gardens, typical of a coastal village. At the southern tip, Draget, the landscape is flat and windswept. Here, the sea and Denmark are the closest neighbors. We also saw traces of past quarrying, where large blocks of residential granite had been extracted and further processed into tombstones, monuments, and building materials.

Mid-Summer Night

Swedish Midsummer is the ultimate celebration of summer, marked by the summer solstice, the “white nights” when the sun barely sets, woven flower crowns, maypole dancing, and traditional feasts featuring pickled herring and strawberries. It is a magical time of year that truly captures the country’s cultural identity. Laura, Sofie, and Denise were making their own flower crowns.

I wanted to celebrate the evening in Smögen and was lucky to depart from Malmön aboard the old passenger vessel M/S Svea af Bohuslän, built in 1904. The ship has a rich history and is particularly notable for still sailing under the Swedish-Norwegian union flag, as it was delivered the year before the union was dissolved in 1905.

Memories from a Swedish midsummer celebration in Smögen:

I arrived at the pier in Smögen early in the afternoon and had a lovely time with Swedish partygoers, enjoying food and drinks. Time flew by, and I had planned to return on M/S Svea at 8 pm. However, the ferry did not arrive, so I decided to wait for the last departure at 10 pm. At 9 o’clock, Gustav, our skipper on Grace, called me to ask where I was. I told him I was waiting for the ferry in Smögen. “That’s why I am calling you,” he said. “The ferry is here and has a machinery problem. We’ll come and pick you up.”

So they came, Emily and Gustav, in our dinghy to bring me back to Grace. I will never forget this midsummer night in Sweden.

Our last port, Käringön

We have been on Grace for six days and nights. The marina at Käringön is busy today. We have to dock beside a really impressive yacht flying a Lithuanian flag. Käringön has a great marina that serves as the central hub, with goods and people coming to and from here daily. There is also a lot of activity around rescue boats, as offshore safety courses are held on the island. The buildings on Käringön are set amid cozy streets, white-and-red-painted houses, and only a few gardens. Only those with the highest rank had the opportunity to have a garden, so most homes did not have fences, lawns, or the like outside the houses. It’s a beautiful summer night, and the realization sets in that the trip is almost over, bringing a touch of nostalgia among the seven of us. The next morning, we’re returning to Skärhamn.

Farewell
Eva and Lars, together with the skipper, checked the instruments as they always did. Ideal 15-knot winds allowed the catamaran to fly across the water today. Our group has learned to navigate together and has come to understand that we have also learned to navigate each other.

Grace is heading back to the home marina while everyone packs their bags. On the dock in Skärshamn, we exchanged phone numbers and photos before parting ways. We left the boat with new friends, shared memories, and plans for future travel. The sadness of leaving proves we are no longer seven individuals ending a trip — we are seven people leaving a temporary home.

About More Sailing – and Grace

More Sailing is a Swedish company with one aim: to offer its customers the freedom of the sea. People with or without a sailing background can experience the magic when the sails are hoisted and time stands still. More Sailing was founded in 2009 on Sweden’s west coast, after the founders, Einar Halldin and Malin Stom, traveled to Croatia for a week of sailing with friends and family. One week quickly became seven, and the idea of forming a company was born. More Sailing’s mission is to make sailing accessible to all.

We were sailing aboard Grace, a 42-foot Fountaine Pajot 44, a dream boat for those who want to enjoy a luxurious sailing trip with an emphasis on relaxation and comfort. Because the catamaran sails so smoothly, it was easy to move around on board. That’s why we didn’t have to worry about stowing away our possessions, glasses flying around, or a tilting cockpit – life aboard the catamaran was more like a comfortable, floating hotel stay.

How Seven Strangers Became a Chosen Family on a Weeklong Sailing Trip on the West Coast of Sweden, written by Tor Kjolberg.
All images © Tor Kjolberg, except portrait photo of Einar Halldin.