Out of the lock at Mem, one emerges from the Göta Canal into the Slätbaken fjord, about 20 miles inland from the open waters of the Baltic Sea. The coastline southwards is bound by the 5,000 islands of the Tjust Archipelago, covering a distance of some 75 miles. The principal navigable routes through the islands, both along the coast and out to the open sea from the mainland harbours, are identified on the paper and electronic charts with black or magenta lines. The passages can be quite intricate with numerous twists and turns, so one needs to plan ahead carefully to avoid being caught out by a reef-strewn dead end, a low bridge or a long detour around a cluster of islands. Even though it was out of peak season, we occasionally found ourselves in a procession with other boats, all following the same line.

A fresh north-easterly breeze gave us a nice fetch for about 12 miles down the Slätbaken, then we daringly tacked off-piste until we merged with the main route heading southwards. Islands of all sizes stretch as far as the eye can see: the larger ones clad with trees; a few inhabited with the buildings of a fishing community, or now more likely holiday homes; others with just a single house or boat-shed; and lots of islets of polished granite rock, the significant ones marked with a beacon. The wind was shifty, with powerful gusts and intermittent lulls, so we decided to take in one reef and then a second to keep our speed down to manageable levels.

We'd been recommended Fyrudden as a convenient harbour for an overnight stop, where we arrived in mid afternoon. There were only a couple of other yachts, so there was space alongside the wall - much easier than trying to dock between those annoyingly slender finger-piers. We couldn't find anyone to pay, then another boat-owner told us that it was out of season, being September, and therefore free! We went for a walk along a street of seemingly empty waterside homes nestling amongst the trees, where a little deer was the only sign of life. We read on a noticeboard that mink, descendants of escapees from farms, were quite common in the area, so assumed that the small mammal we saw next morning scavenging along the quayside was one of them.

We wanted to find out what the real Baltic Sea looked and felt like, so we decided to sail offshore of the archipelago for the next leg. Heavy rain overnight had eased to light rain showers, but a thin mist reduced visibility as we headed towards the horizon. After about 6 miles we rounded the Nygrund East Cardinal buoy and turned to the south. There were no waves, but a long swell, left over from recent gales further north, broke across the shallower parts of the extensive area of reefs inshore. There were no other vessels to be seen, apart from a tug and barge far out to sea. 15 miles down the coast we rounded Storkläppen, a rocky islet with a conical stone lighthouse, its base washed by spray. From there we followed a buoyed channel through the archipelago back towards the mainland, and then into a large, fully enclosed bay. Some 5 miles up, we reached the city of Västervik, where we berthed at the new Slottsholmen Marina. (Again, there was no one to pay, and neither we nor our neighbours could work out how to pay online. Despite this, the extremely luxurious showers and loos were open and spotless!)

We had the rest of the afternoon and the following morning to buy some food and explore this attractive old city, with the help of a guide map from the tourist office. There was a lovely Baltic schooner alongside the quay; a maritime museum - closed of course, but with some traditional small fishing boats outside; a handsome early 20th C. church and a 15th C. one with a valuable 18th C. organ; the ruins of a 14th C. castle and a large collection of old timber buildings with fascinating histories. It was all very quiet, but one could imagine the place thronged with visitors during the summer.

Göran and Gudrun arrived during the afternoon aboard Anniara, the same yacht they had when we first encountered them on the island of Nuku Hiva in French Polynesia. Our plan was that they would show us some of their favourite spots in the Archipelago over the next three days on the way down to their home port of Oskarshamn. It was a bit of a magical mystery tour, following in their wake along a remarkably tortuous route down some very narrow channels between the islands. We sailed when we could, but there was still a lot of motoring. We anchored in a secluded bay off the island of Skavdö and took our dinghies across to the neighbouring island of Eknö, at 6km by 3km one of the biggest in the archipelago. We went for a walk through the forest to an old fishing and farming village, now largely devoted to holiday accommodation.

We continued next morning to another favourite spot between Kalv and the mainland. They had hoped to introduce us to the "fun" of mooring alongside a rock, but there was a bit too much swell so we anchored instead. Swedes who haven't ventured far afield seem to be wary of anchoring, preferring to moor to a rock, either alongside, or bow to with a kedge anchor dropped astern. The location of mooring rings are shown in chart books, and some boats carry a few spare pitons just in case. So far, we have always been able to find sheltered places to anchor in reasonable depths with very good holding. Our pressure washer has been well used in removing the sticky mud from our anchor and chain.

We had reached the end of the archipelago, and our mini cruise together ended with a lovely sail in a gentle breeze across open sea to the port of Oskarshamn. After topping up our tank with diesel, we moved back down harbour to the marina at Ernemar, which was to be Egret's home for the coming winter.