Tom Cunliffe
This summer I’ve been cruising in the Swedish Baltic where idyllic anchorages are thick on the water. Stockholm lies through a maze of islands away to the west. Solitude is a bonus, but it’s in short supply these days, even here. Fortunately, as my sheltered havens fill up in the afternoons, the antics of crews more than make up for it. Last night provided rich entertainment.
Right now, my boat is swinging in a land-locked natural harbour a quarter mile across, surrounded by tiny beaches, small cliffs, pine trees and smooth, steep-to boulders. By around six yesterday evening the sea breeze was easing after a perfect day. The sun that had shone since dawn was dipping, and the cove had fallen largely silent except for a couple of small girls having a great time diving off their dad’s boat tied up to the rocks.
