15 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

07/15 Archipelago, Sweden

The young man, who originally invited me to his parent’s house, got up at first light and ran off to work.  His friend Brent left to pick up his girl friend.  I began to prepare omelets for the returning couple and took the liberty of cleaning up the house from the night before.  Brent’s girlfriend was very sweet and quite attractive.  The three of us hung around watched the concert and talked into the night.  Every so often we would take a break and go down to the water’s edge and do a little skinny-dipping.  We took a couple of excursions to local hang outs and met a few of their friends.  That was a well-needed relaxation from traveling and provided an opportunity to wash all my clothes and to reorganize my bag.  While in Amsterdam I had a local cobbler attach some belt straps to the bottom of my book bag to accommodate carrying a bedroll.  I figured when I reached Norway and picked up what I had left behind, I planned on sending everything that didn’t fit in my book bag home.  There was no other way to travel than to travel light.  I learned that lesson the hard way.

We were getting along well and apparently Brent’s girlfriend enjoyed my company enough to persuade Brent to ask his parents if I could join them on holiday.  They explained that Brent’s parents owned a boat and we would be island hopping off Stockholm’s coast for a week.  It sounded like an offer I could not refuse and the timing worked out perfectly.  Tomorrow was the day I was to leave a message with Solsberg to confirm our original schedule or setting an alternative.  We thought it would be nice to reciprocate Solsberg’s hospitality by preparing her a dinner.  She had very kindly gone out of her way to act as our meeting point and for watching our extra gear.  Good news, Jim had not checked in yet, so that was a positive sign.  If he would have confirmed I would have had no option but to decline Brent’s invitation.  Next Saturday, nine in the morning in Oslo Station.  I explained that I would have already purchased all the ingredients needed to prepare Solsberg’s thank you dinner.

Brent, his girlfriend and I hopped into an old car and headed out towards the local hotels.  I needed to cash a few of my traveler’s checks so that I could start pulling my share of the expenses and then we were off to Grandma’s house.  We first stopped at a campground and traded cars with his uncle.  I was told his car could actually make the trip and then we headed toward a small island where Brent’s grandparent’s had a house.  It was there I met the family.  They pulled out a world map and laid it down in front of me. “Where is your home” his grandfather asked.  Half way through the twenty questions, Brent pulled me a way explaining that we were going to go down to the lake for a swim.  We ran down the trail, full of life and eager to jump in.  As the trees began to part, I could see the blue of a perfect swimming hole pecking through, undisturbed and waiting.  Like a sponge, dry from the Los Angeles basin, I soaked up these places and wondered why and how I had lost my way.  Beautiful white swans were undisturbed by our splashing and childish play and seemed to enjoy the ripples we created.

Becky, Huck and Tom, running along the muddy banks, singing pirate songs
Arabs and elephants I can see, these old ways are best for me
three candles lay and a nickel paid, dirty clothes and forced to pray
oath of robbers, we’ll never tell, I choose to ignore these dinner bells
Arabs and elephants I can see, ain’t no matter, best for me

We gathered up all the necessities and packed them on the boat.  We danced among the many white sails that littered the horizon.  I recalled that it had been only a few days prior that I had looked from the railing of the ferry out upon all the islands and wished I would have the opportunity to play Tom Sawyer.  There I was, sitting up on deck with the wind on my face.  The three of us fell asleep somewhere along the way and didn’t wake up until help was needed to tie down the boat.  Once we got things tied down we grabbed the fishing tackle and went searching for tonight’s dinner.  I couldn’t have been more thankful.  We caught an excellent meal, the company was interesting and as far as the eye could see was God’s wilderness.  “The earth as it truly is, beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats”.

With the wind and bending reeds, the flowering grass and scattered weeds
where the clouds pause when passing by, only lend their beauty to the sky
…….  My heart grows fond in deepest bliss, love embrace the wilderness

In the distance I can hear some birds, the silence broken by their song
my sprit knows, I can’t put in words, how my soul knows it belongs
…….  My heart grows fond in deepest bliss, love embrace the wilderness

Above where leaves dance on the tree and upon the birds their wings
seems these songs are sung just for me, sounds that say a thousand things
…….  My heart grows fond in deepest bliss, love embrace the wilderness

Of my soul in these veins of air, another breath in nature’s song
death by inches, when I’m not there, how my soul knows it belongs
…….  My heart grows fond in deepest bliss, love embrace the wilderness

After dinner we all relaxed over a few cigarettes and a game of cards.  I introduced the group to Texas Hold’em and Baseball.  The game of Baseball consisted of threes and nines being wild, anti again with each four drawn to receive an extra card.  We talked into the night and when our Captain fell asleep the rest of us followed.  As each day grew long we focused our attention on the current weather conditions and would reestablish our boat’s position to hide from the wind, taking advantage of the coves.  We did this not just to protect us from the changing winds but more importantly to protect our privacy.  Since we didn’t want to share our new location, every time another boat strolled close by, we took off our clothes and danced around the boat as if we were insane.  If there were children to protect this would presented itself as a bad environment.  Just the sight of our nude bodies usually did the trick.  If that didn’t discourage a new comer we would be forced to pack up and go searching for an island of our own.  That was our routine.