Sailing boats sweep around me. Fluttering sails or tightly hauled jibs. From our first small dinghy to the last Da Capo catamaran. Sailing in the Stockholm archipelago for thirty years creates so many memories. Always an island in our way or outside of the island some cay. Once a rudder broke and we had to stay three nights in an island harbour to get it fixed. My woollen sweater reminds me of those days. I had nothing else to do than knitting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hauling sails<\/p>\n\n\n\n
swimming keels<\/p>\n\n\n\n
summer satisfaction<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From lazy leeward sailing to quick and somewhat frightening tacking (at least when the children were small) <\/p>\n\n\n\n
jibs are hauled up wind<\/p>\n\n\n\n
rudders turning quickly<\/p>\n\n\n\n
seagulls whoop<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We had to bow when the boom turned. It may come very quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
beware! <\/p>\n\n\n\n
every turn in tack<\/p>\n\n\n\n
puts my life at risk<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But once in leeward on an island, we all can rest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sailing boats sweep around me. Fluttering sails or tightly hauled jibs. From our first small dinghy to the last Da Capo catamaran. Sailing in the Stockholm archipelago for thirty years creates so many memories. Always an island in our way or outside of the island some cay. Once a rudder broke and we had to … Forts\u00e4tt l\u00e4sa Sailing<\/span>