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THEBLUE RIB BONCRUISETHE BLUE RIB BONCRUISE

The Juno, one of the many

tour boats on the Göta

Kanal, moves past farm

fields of rural Sweden.

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HE FIRST THING YOU LEARN WHEN

traversing the Göta Kanal, Sweden’s “blue

ribbon,” is how to pronounce its name. If

you don’t call it the “Yer-tah Kanahl,” no one

knows what you’re talking about.

B Y M A R I A N N E S C O T TB Y M A R I A N N E S C O T T

THE FIRST THING YOU LEARN WHEN

traversing the Göta Kanal, Sweden’s “blue

ribbon,” is how to pronounce its name. If

you don’t call it the “Yer-tah Kanahl,” no one

knows what you’re talking about.

58 S E P T E M B E R / O C T O B E R 2 0 0 6 59w w w . p o w e r c r u i s i n g m a g . c o m

You also discover that although youcan cross all of Sweden from east to west— or vice-versa — the “canal” portionof the moniker is a bit of a misnomer.We traveled west from Mem on theBaltic Sea to Göteborg on the Kattegat,transited the man-made portions of theGöta Kanal, several lakes — one largeenough for European weather reportsto classify it as a sea, the TrollhätteKanal and, finally, a swift-flowing rivercalled the Göta.

The surroundings change dramati-cally during the 210-nm voyage: a scenic inlet leads up to the canal’s east-ern entrance; once you enter the water-way, the landscape transforms into tran-quil, flat farm terrain; lakes with theirown clusters of islands are interspersed;and the last stretch shows off Sweden’sindustrial strength. Parts of the journeyare rapid; others are interrupted by the64 locks and time waiting for the manyautomobile and train bridges to open.

Before entering the canal, we’dcruised through the “skärgård,” thearchipelago of thousands of islandslying of f Sweden’s Balt ic coast .Although seafarers have sailed thisregion for millennia, not every rock ischarted. Our Nobeltec charts, whichguided Beyond the Stars throughout theBaltic Sea, are based on Swedish (andother national) paper charts and statedfrequently, “rock, depth unknown” and“uncharted area.” Navigation i sdemanding — this is not a place whereyou put the boat on autopilot and gomake a pot of coffee.

We began our voyage toward theGöta Kanal by motoring down SlätbakenInlet. At its narrowest point, we passedStegeborg Castle, a ruin dating back to

the 10th century, when Vikings placedpilings around the fort to keep shipsfrom approaching. Once beyond theremains of its 12th-century tower andheavy granite walls attesting to the fort’sdefensive position during Sweden’s longmartial history, we reached Mem, theGöta Kanal’s eastern entrance. Mem isonly a hamlet, but its banks are a popu-lar destination for families watchingboaters pass through the locks.

Mem is also the location where thelockkeeper collects canal-crossing fees.Yacht and tour-boat traffic helps offsetthe maintenance and operational costsborne by the Swedish government tothe tune of 15 million Kronor (US$1.85million) annually, along with smallcontributions from the EuropeanUnion. User-pay fees are based on boatlength and the duration of the voyage.For our 41-footer, the coast-to-coastcost was US$930, which includes

moorage and services at 20 guest harborswith the Göta Kanal Card providingaccess to the facilities. Boats on shortertrips can buy individual lock tickets;canoes and kayaks are free if they passthrough locks along with yachts.

Becoming Lock-wise We tied up outside the first lock at Memand read the instructions on navigatingthe sluices. It seemed straightforward.You tie two lines to the rings imbeddedin the lock’s granite slabs. The aft line,which should measure 28-30 feet, isattached to a stern cleat and kept tautas the boat rises (or paid out when itdescends); the forward line, with alength of 35-40 feet, runs through ablock or fairlead on the bow and isreined in as the water level changes

Looking at the first lock’s rough wall,we were glad we had eight fat fenders toprotect our gelcoat. Mindful that the

Swedes call the Göta Kanal “the divorceditch” for the marital strife caused by theendless floodgates, we cautiously prac-ticed the maneuvers through the firstthree locks. A few miles later, havingproved our nimbleness, we happily tiedup to the dock in Söderköping (pro-nounced “ser’dersherping”), a charming,walkable town of 14,000 inhabitants,half of whom live in the shadow of thethree medieval churches.

The canal is a major Söderköpingattraction, and its banks are lined withrestaurants, a famous ice-cream parlorand the requisite T-shirt shops. Werelaxed for a couple of days waiting forour guests/crew, Leslie and Nat Klein, tojoin us. We climbed up the high north-ern bank, petted the “Rabbit Crossing”sculpture and admired yesteryear’sbronze lockkeeper demonstrating howlocks were opened by muscle before theinstallation of electric controls. We alsocaught up on laundry and boatkeeping,removed salt and dirt from the yacht andprovisioned at the town’s large super-market. On September 1, under a glori-ous sun, we began our westward trekacross the narrow trench.

How the Göta Kanal came to be The Swedes are immensely proud of theirhistoric waterway, which was built in the early 19th century at about the sametime as the Erie Canal. The Americans’motivation differed from that of theirSwedish counterparts. The New Yorkcanal, which connected Buffalo to theHudson River at Albany, was designedto transport goods inexpensively and to“open up the American West.”

The Swedes wanted to circumventthe shipping toll imposed by their tra-ditional enemies, the Danes, who con-trolled the Öresund, a three-mile-widestrait between Sweden and Denmarklinking the North Sea to the Baltic.From 1429 on, ships leaving and enter-ing the Baltic Sea had to pay the toll,thereby topping up the Danish treasuryand, of course, infuriating other traders.

Swedish studies for a canal endingnorth of the Öresund and avoiding thetoll were drawn up as early as 1516,but like many government reports,they gathered dust in the archives. Ittook a champion to get the canal built,

Clockwise from above: It helps to hang fenders at different heights to protect against

the “pop-out” at the top of the lock. Watch out: Rabbit Crossing, a bronze sculpture

on the canal in Söderköping. A rural landscape along the Göta Kanal. The canal is

lined with many lockkeepers’ cottages; this one is located in Malfors. The Stegeborg

Castle on Slätbaken Inlet. Entering the lock at Mem, the M/S Viskär of Arkösund

carries live branches as part of an on-board wedding celebration.

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The land became more bucolic as wecleared the locks at Mariehov, Carls-borg, Klämman, Hulta and Bråttom. Fatrolls of golden hay interrupted the flatfields with their pale stubble, whilefarmhouses and barns provided splashesof burgundy color. Black-and-whiteHolsteins, mahogany-hued cows andblack-faced sheep grazed on the canal’sberms. After a total of 12 sluices, wecalled it a day at Norsholm’s guest dock.

Norsholm, like many villages on thecanal, is tiny, but it’s home to “KaptenBilles Café,” run by an Austrian whobakes a mean apple strudel. We soonlearned that every town has its specialty.Kapten Billes’s owner, Peter, recom-mended we visit a smokery a few blockssouth. We loped along the road literallyfollowing our nose. “Where is the darnplace? Mmm, I can smell it.”

Then we spied a sign, NorsholmsEnrisrökeri (Norsholm’s Juniper Smok-ery), pointing toward a house. In thespacious courtyard, rows of numberedmetal sheds exhibited their blackeneddoors. We rang the bell at the pocket-sized store and found not the smokedfish Sweden is famous for, but as thewoman behind the counter said, “Here,it’s all peeeg.” Wursts of all sizes, bacon,ham and sausages crowded each otherin the display case. We drooled likePavlov’s dog and bought a bagful.

The proprietor, Anders Perling,came scooting over. “You want tour?Follow the commander,” he said,pounding a fist on his ample, yellow-shirted chest. Gregarious, he mixedGerman and English as he told us abouthis smokehouse. “Second generation,”he said proudly as he opened a shed

door, displaying rows of gleaming, fat,mahogany-brown sausage rings. “Myfather and uncle started the business in1936.” He showed us the juniper, birchand alder chunks he burns to producehis delicacies, then opened shed aftershed filled with bronzed meats, all wait-ing to bring delight to someone’s table.

Kapten Billes also told us that if wewanted dinner, we’d have to show upearly, because Thursday is motorcyclenight. Puzzled, we looked over to thesmall area next to the bridge spanningthe canal.

“Motorcycle night?” “Yes, hundreds come and fill what-

ever restaurants are open.’At about 1730h, we ambled over to

see. The Kapten had been right. Bikersin black leather colonized the restaurant.Most looked like computer programmers,

60 S E P T E M B E R / O C T O B E R 2 0 0 6

someone with stamina, iron determina-tion and a thick skin. Count Baltzarvon Platten was such a man. The navy official and politician persuaded the government to support the project andalso sold shares to the public, permittingthe first excavations to begin in 1810.

For the next 22 years, soldiers andeven Russian prisoners of war dug thechannel by hand. Just like today’s gov-ernment contracts, the immense effortwas plagued by cost overruns, accusa-tions of fraud, delays and politicking. Butfinally, in 1832, King Karl Johan formallyopened the engineering masterpiece.Ships pulled by oxen on the canal’s side-paths began transporting timber, coal,fish, grain, zinc and pig iron.

It was also the last “homeland” voy-age many Swedish emigrants madebefore leaving for the New World.Eventually, however, railways and thentrucks became the freight carriers ofchoice and supplanted the water route,making tourism the next logical activity. Today, roughly 5,000 vessels —usually 40-45 boats up to a maximum of80 daily — pass through at least a portion of the waterway each summer. Of those, half are Swedish, 28 percent German, with the rest flying the Danish, Dutch, British and Finnish

flags. Our lone Canadian flag elicitedmany greetings, usually beginning with“Did you come all the way from … ?”

Traveling WestFully stocked with herring, smoked fish,chocolate, veggies and Swedish flatbread, we left Söderköping at dawn tomeet the lockkeeper, Johan Söderlund,at the next lock. Amazingly, the cruis-ing season is over about mid-August,and Baltic boaters start hauling theiryachts, mostly storing them indoors ingigantic sheds.

Söderlund, a cheerful red-hairedyoung man with several rings piercinghis lip, explained that by September,kids are back at school and parents backat work. Thus, except for the boatsgoing to their winter-storage yards, wewere often the only vessel lockingthrough and met the lockkeeper at predetermined times.

Our next lock, Duvkullen, showedus how much easier it is to handle a boatwith four rather than two people. Weeach had our assigned task and learnedthat keeping our boat steady in the bur-bling lock was almost stress free. On wewent, with single and double sluicesabout every mile or two, climbingsteadily toward Sweden’s midpoint.

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Göta Kanal

•Stockholm

Power Cruising contributors Marianne and David Scott devoted the summer of 2005 to an extended circumnavigation of the BalticSea. From Greifswald, Germany, close to the Polish border, they visited the Danish island of Bornholm (“Departures,” May 2006) andthen explored the Swedish Baltic coast to Stockholm. The Åland islands were next, with extensive visits to southern Finland. Theyvery much enjoyed visiting Estonia’s capital, Tallinn, and two mostly unknown islands, Hiiumaa and Saaremaa. Ventspils in Latviawas next. They again crossed the Baltic, spent time on Gotland and then became acquainted with rural Sweden by crossing theGöta Kanal. From Göteborg, they turned south and returned to Greifswald, where their boat was stored for the winter.

Top to bottom: Two lockkeepers chat while the lock’s water empties. Fat sausages are smoked at the Norsholms Enrisrökeri.

The Thursday evening motorcycle reunion in Norsholm on the Göta Kanal. The guest harbor at Sjötorp.

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castle and St. Bridget’s Abbey Church.St. Bridget is alleged to be the “greatestpersonality of the Swedish MiddleAges.” Although a mother of eight, shefounded the Order of the Most HolySaviour, which quickly spread through-out Scandinavia. The convent stillexists but is the only one in Sweden.

The castle was constructed around1550 in the Renaissance style, but forus the most enticing part was thatyachts can berth in its 500-year-oldmoat. After mooring, we enjoyedtramping through the castle’s hugerooms, ogling the six-foot-thick wallsand wondering how people kept warmin the cavernous spaces during Swe-den’s long, cold winter.

The high point of our canal journey,literally, came after crossing Lake Vät-tern to Forsvik, where we rose for thelast time — our first cruise at 301 feetabove sea level. We continued at thataltitude across Lake Viken, anotherbeautiful, tranquil loch filled with reedsand waterbirds.

From there it was all downhill — wehad to adjust our locking skills betweenTätorp and Sjötorp, stepping down 157feet through 20 locks over a distance of19 nm. Another 20 bridges also slowedus down. Although the distance was not

great, we were pleased to arrive in Sjötorp (the official end of the GötaKanal), settle down with a cold G&Tand have a little snooze.

The next lake, Vänern, was a chal-lenge. This inland sea measures 2,180square miles and has 22,000 islands androcks. The weather forecast was for highwinds, and our guest Nat, who’s highlyprone to seasickness, opted to take thebus around the lake. He was smart.Although the distance across was only64 nm, it took two days to cross the lakewith rain, gloom and high winds.

After the first day of wind-on-the-bow hobbyhorsing, Leslie, David and Ianchored behind some bare rocks ofcoral-hued granite. The next day, wemotored toward the Trollhätte Kanal,tossed around by winds up to 38 knots,and were delighted to find Vänersborg’sdocks, where Nat awaited us, his armsfilled with wine, fresh bread, smokedfish and more treats. Yes, a sailor travelson his/her stomach.

The Trollhätte KanalThis portion of Sweden’s cross-countrywaterway was completed in 1800, adecade before work on the Göta Kanalbegan. The Trollhätte is 44 nm long, of which only a six-mile stretch was

man-made, while the rest takes advantageof the fast-flowing Göta River. Freighterstransport cargo from Lake Vänern anddescend 144 feet through six locks.

We visited the system’s nerve centerat the first sluice (which also remotelycontrols several large bridges), whereBengt-Olof Pettersson was lockingthrough Windia, a Swedish freighter on its way to Scotland. A takeoff on“Panamax” freighters, this ship was“Götamax” size: limited to 289 feet, abeam of 44 feet and a 17.7-foot draft.

This part of the waterway divergedmarkedly from the pastoral landscapethrough which we’d cruised. Thecanal/river system broadened; wepassed the Saab and Volvo factories,saw industrial plants and slid under bigbridges. The Göta River added severalknots to our speed-over-the-ground,and we arr ived at a busy, noisyGötaborg Harbor in record time.

It had been a delightful ten daysfloating through tiny villages and therural serenity of Sweden’s heartland,the locks offering their own charm.Cruising salt water has its rewards, butour journey across Sweden’s internalwaterways had given us a glimpse ofSwedish history and a wider perspectiveon this Nordic nation.

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salesmen and school teachers, but a fewwere Hell’s Angels wannabes. While Iwas eating a tasty spinach pie, I surrep-titiously observed one chubby dinerwho’d spent weeks in a tattoo parlor,inky-blue flames snaking onto his neckand down to his finger tips. He’d tiedhis long, salt-and-pepper beard into aponytail, and both his attitude andplump moll preceded him. I didn’t havethe guts to take their photo.

Outside, in the parking lot next thecanal, hundreds of glossy machinesleaned on their stands — every possiblebrand in black, yellow, red, burgundyand gold. There was chrome everywherebut not a speck of oil or dirt. These wereserious babies — caressed, fondled andkissed goodnight. Leather-clad RUBs(rich urban bikers) were socializing orbuying hotdogs. I asked one banker-typewho stood next to his brand-new but’50s-style bike, “Why do all of you cometo Norsholm on Thursday evening?”

“I don’t know. There’s nothing to seeor do, but we come anyway.”

A Lake and a LadderAfter Norsholm, we cont inuedthrough our nar row t rench andentered Lake Roxen. Even wispyclouds were clearly reflected in theglassy surface. We crossed the serenelake at a leisurely pace. On one islet,two gray eagles perched among agroup of wrecked trees. In the past, acolony of cormorants roosted here,destroying all vegetation with theirguano. We’d seen other such denudedislands in Scandinavia, but this onewas reviving — lush green shrubsshrouded the lower stumps.

Nearly 15 nautical miles later, weapproached the Carl Johan locks at Berg,a staircase of seven steep steps that raisedus nearly 62 feet. Tie the lines, keep theboat steady when the foaming waterstreams in, make sure the fenders don’tpop up at the top of the lock; carry thelines forward, tie them, steady the boat

and so on — seven times in a row. Next,the passage through four sets of doublelocks and one single lock, interspersedby remotely operated draw- and bascule-bridges, brought us to Borensberg.

Our new lockkeeper, Pontus Nils-son, raced his motorbike from locationto location to let us through. Blond, theepitome of a young, good-lookingSwede, he spent the interval when thewater filled the locks telling us he’dsaved his summer-job money and wouldleave for Peru when the Göta Kanalshut down at the end of September.

The next morning, after buyingsweet-smelling cinnamon buns fromthe Wasa Lejon, one of the ubiquitoustour boats on the canal, we wended ourway farther west. The canal authorityhas planted 10,000 trees in recent years,replacing older forests. Stands of birchtrees, just beginning to carry theirautumn gold, quivered in the breeze. Alone heron screeched raucously as itrose, landed 200 feet in front of us andthen rose again as we approached —playing this game for nearly an hour.Boren Lake, one of the most scenicareas yet encountered, led us back tothe canal and six more locks.

The town of Motala is where theCanal Authority lodges in its 19th-century building. The town is also hometo the original “Verkstad,” a workshopthat fabricated the special equipment,tools, bridges and sluice gates needed bythe canal. Its mechanical skills led tothe training of generations of engineersat a time when technical education wasscarce, and it also helped establish Sweden’s heavy industry. When wemoored at Motala’s harbor, we weregreeted by loud music. Organized forthe enjoyment of people with handi-caps, a small sound stage flanked byhumungous speakers literally made theboat tremble. But the audience enjoyedthe golden oldies and the raucous rocksung by a group with the requisite super-long manes, then by a band of gyratingyoung women. The music stoppedpromptly at 2100h, allowing us goldenoldies to sleep.

Lake Vättern and the High PointWe made one side trip on the lake weentered from Motala: Vadstena, with its

NOTES ON CRUISING THE BALTICFro m t h e p o r t o f G re i fs wa l d ,

Germany, we spent six months circumnavigating the Baltic Sea,covering about 2,000miles in a criss-cross route that included open water,coastal archipelagos and the inlandwaterway described in this story.

We found people exceptionally welcoming throughout the Baltic;many stopped to talk with us at thedocks, occasionally inviting us to theirhomes for a bottle of wine. I knowenough German to stumble along —very useful in the former East Germanywhere people over 30 had learnedRussian in their school years — buteverywhere else, English was widelyspoken, even in Estonia.

Navigation in this region can betricky. The coastlines of Sweden, theÅland Islands, Finland and Denmark

are flanked by thousands of islands,most small and flat, and the water-ways separating them are oftenextremely shallow. Rocks abound.Although most channels are very wellbuoyed, it ’s best to stick to the“marked routes” listed on the charts.

What we enjoyed most was the richhistory of the region.Royalty and theirendless wars had left behind palacesand forts,fortified towns and medievalbuildings.To truly appreciate the area,we recommend reading about thecountries’history,geology and growth.

We spent nearly a day exploring theVasa Museum,which houses the mostfamous warship of its era (1628), sunkjust after its launch and recovered inthe 1960s. We were happily surprisedby a gala opera concert on the Eston-ian island of Saaremaa,unexpected in

such an out-of-the-way place.We wereenchanted by Helsinki’s midsummernight festival,when the sun never trulydisappears. The thousands of swansafloat in the shallows around the German island of Rügen made us jokeabout cruising “swan lake.”

The only advice we offer is to beopen to every opportunity that pres-ents itself. Ask people for their localknowledge. If someone offers toshow you the sights, accept. That’show we got to see all of Hiiumaa, alarge Estonian island that lingers inthe past. A woman on a Stockholmdock invited us to visit the island at atime when she’d be there. We did. Itwas a most unusual experience totour this former Soviet satellite, onewe would never have had withoutaccepting the invitation. — MS

From top: The Dot, of Holbæk, Denmark,

enters the first lock at the Trollhätte

Kanal. The seven-lock staircase at Berg.

Dot passes by the lifting railroad bridge.

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