Åland: Skerries, saunas, and mooring bow to the rocks

In May this year, at the quay in a Stockholm marina, a Hanse 468 was waiting for us. This was the yacht we would sail for a week-long voyage toward the Åland Islands. Getting there from Poland was quick and easy: a direct flight and then a short transfer to the marina. Stockholm itself deserves more time for sightseeing, but our plan was clear: pick up the yacht, stock up on provisions, and set sail.

The check-in went smoothly as the boat was well-kept, with solid rigging and fully equipped navigation gear. After just a few hours, we were ready to go. The temperature wasn’t particularly generous, but the wind and clear skies gave us perfect sailing conditions. That same day, we cast off from the quay, heading northeast.

Sailing in the Stockholm archipelago is one of the greatest nautical experiences you can treat yourself to. Hundreds — or rather tens of thousands — of islands and islets are scattered across the sea like granite crumbs. Some are bare rocks, others are covered in pine forests. Between them are narrow passages, bays and anchorages that seem made for sailors. Many are dotted with idyllic Swedish summer houses. For the skipper, this is a dream sailing ground, demanding in terms of navigation, yet extremely rewarding. The Swedes take care of thorough waterway markings: red and green buoys guide you like on a string, and in busier areas, you can sail almost like a “highway at sea.” But stray just a little from this course and you’re suddenly in a completely different world filled with silence, nature, and wild anchorages that give a feeling of complete isolation. For two days, we made our way like this — sometimes close to the main channel, sometimes wandering between smaller islands. But the goal was clear: the Åland Islands.

On the third day, at dawn, we set sail northeast. Ahead lay about 30 nautical miles of open water toward the island of Rödhamm, our first stop in the Åland archipelago. This was already a completely different world. The Ålands, formally part of Finland but autonomous and Swedish-speaking, have their own character and are formed by more than 6,500 islands and islets, of which only a small fraction are inhabited. Sailing here is being embedded in the culture, and anyone who visits a local yacht club feels a mix of hospitality and simplicity. On the water, the difference is immediately visible: while the Swedes rely consistently on the red and green buoy system, the Ålanders prefer cardinal marks and leading lines. The latter are fascinating, with two towers aligned to show the precise course you must steer to slip safely between rocks. Precision and tradition give you great satisfaction when you guide the yacht “on the line,” knowing that a few meters off would mean a granite encounter.

We entered Rödhamm in the afternoon. A small, intimate yacht club awaited us, with only one other boat alongside. Almost empty, almost silent. Luckily, so, because we managed to talk with our neighbors, who kindly lent us their Åland pilot book (which we didn’t have on board), and we were able to photograph the pages and create our own PDF—one of those moments when sailor solidarity truly shines. Still, the highlight was the sauna. It’s impossible to speak about Ålands or Finland without mentioning this ritual. For Finns, sauna is not a luxury but a way of life, a place to meet friends, discuss matters, rest and cleanse. In marinas, you can almost always count on one, often built right at the water’s edge, with a window looking out to sea. That evening, the sauna was ours alone. Heated wood, steam, silence, and outside, a view of the Baltic sunset. Every few minutes, we’d run from the heat straight into the icy water. A plunge, a deep breath, and back into the heat. Blood rushing, energy flowing, a cleansing like no other.

After Rödhamm, the forecast began to change. Stronger winds were on the way, so we sought out a quieter, more sheltered spot. We set course for the island of Sommarön. A gem with a tiny, half-wild yacht club that felt frozen in time, made of wooden docks, a handful of local boats, and the feeling of no rush at all. We slipped in carefully, following the leading marks, dropped anchor, and spent the day there. Lunch on board, and evening in a calm, almost family-like atmosphere. In places like this, you understand that sailing is not only a sport, but a culture, a way of life where community and respect for nature come first.

From Sommarön we sailed deeper into the archipelago, heading for the anchorage at Halsterskär. A spot considered by locals as very safe and well-protected from shifting winds, perfect for a night. We spent the night on a free anchor, surrounded by the gentle rustling of trees, silence broken only by waves against the hull, and above us a sky full of stars. The next morning, we sailed further. Out came the drone to scout the area, checking where we could safely approach closer. We were looking for a rock that would let us try what is a true classic of Swedish sailing docking: bow-to-rock mooring.

Bow-to-rock mooring is a genuine showpiece of Swedish sailing culture and gives the voyage its unique flavor. The maneuver starts with dropping an extra fifteen-kilo anchor from the stern, specially prepared for this purpose. Then, with great precision, you bring the yacht’s bow straight up to the chosen rock. At that moment, a crew member jumps ashore to secure the bow lines. Two lines led out on opposite sides stabilize the yacht. Nature doesn’t always make it easy. Granite rocks are often smooth and bare, with no trees or natural outcrops to tie onto. That’s why the boat was equipped with special pins of steel rock spikes to be hammered in with a mallet. The line is then looped through the attached eye, and the yacht’s bow holds steady, almost like at a quay. It’s a manoeuvre of precision as the skipper must come in close, within centimeters, without damaging the hull, while giving the crew room to disembark. Adrenaline mixed with satisfaction — that’s exactly what makes sailing in Sweden and Finland so unique.

We spent a few hours on Halsterskär exploring the island and enjoying the silence. Places like this show that sailing the skerries is more than just navigation — it’s a way of being close to nature, with a touch of adventure and challenge.

After a few days at sea, we finally reached Mariehamn, the capital of the Ålands and a perfect halfway point to restock supplies. The city may not dazzle with attractions, but it has its own distinct charm. We chose the western marina, slightly farther from the center, greener and more classic. And there too, as almost everywhere in Finland, a sauna awaited. After a chilly, rainy crossing, it was heaven. Until then, I’d always hesitated to jump into cold water, but this time I went for it: hot sauna, plunge into icy Baltic, back into the heat. A rush of energy, cleansing, unbeatable. The grey, steel sky and drizzle only added to the atmosphere.

From Mariehamn we headed south. We bid farewell to the Ålands when passing the Kobba Klintar lighthouse at the harbor entrance, then set a course southwest, back toward the Swedish skerries. We sailed in perfect conditions, with a northwesterly breeze, steady at over a dozen knots. Full sails, and a smooth run toward Sweden.

That night, we stopped at Finnhamn, a semi-wild yacht club, well-sheltered yet full of natural charm. The Swedes have an incredible sailing infrastructure, including jetties, mooring spots, and simple facilities, all blending with the landscape. Here, we tried all the mooring techniques we’d practiced. At first, we used a classic “anchor from the bow, stern lines ashore” using a small jetty. During the day, though, we kept playing with our favorite trick: bow-to-rock approaches. After a week of practice, we felt completely comfortable with it.

Before ending the voyage, we made one last stop in Vaxholm for a farewell dinner. It was our final night on the route, with the comfort of only needing to return to the base marina in Stockholm by Saturday morning. We’d spent the entire week in the archipelago, anchoring and using local marinas, and it felt like a wholesome experience to come into contact with both the nature and the culture of this sailing ground.

Stockholm and the Ålands together make a sailing area absolutely unique on the Baltic. On one hand, the geological wonder of thousands of granite islands and rocks forms a natural labyrinth. On the other hand, the rich sailing culture of Sweden and Finland, shaped by great conditions and their own traditions. The highlight of the entire journey was bow-to-rock mooring, not just as a technique, but a symbol of what sailing in the skerries is about: closeness to nature, courage to approach, precision in maneuver, and satisfaction when the yacht lies still against a granite wall. This voyage showed us that the Stockholm and Åland archipelagos are worth experiencing at least once in a lifetime. An adventure that stays with you long after you’ve left.  □