There are more than 300,000 named islands in the Finnish archipelago, not to mention the unnamed ones, each with its own story. Our current wanderings have taken us to a few of them.

After Turku we decided to trend north and west, both to avoid the possibility of crowds and to touch the Gulf of Bothnia. We anchored for one night in a pleasant cove on Jumo Island, then headed to Isokari, the northernmost island in the archipelago on the southern edge of the Gulf of Bothnia.

During two days there, we swam in the cool, clear water – noticeably clearer of algae than waters further south, walked the nature trails, and took a guided tour of the island.

On the tour, we learned that Isokari was first occupied in the 19th century by Finnish pilots as a base for guiding commercial ships into ports further north. The old pilot house stood on a hill not far from the harbor. Pilots lived and worked out of a newer one, built in 1965, until just last year. Now, all pilot boats are deployed from the mainland.

During World War II, barracks were built by the Finnish army to house troops who trained and stood ready at gun emplacements cut into the island’s granite. Our tour included a stop at one of the guns, which remains as a sober reminder of those days.

Before the tour, neither Jocelyn nor I had realized that Finland for some time was part of the German axis during World War II, largely because the two countries shared Russia as a common enemy. However, Finnish troops never came under the command of German officers, and Finland maintained democratically elected leaders throughout the war. Early in the war, Finland fought battles against Russia on its eastern border. As the tide of the war turned, Finland cooperated with Britain in defeating Germany. Ultimately, Finland ceded 10% of its eastern territory to Russia as part of an October 1944 armistice.

The tour ended with an ascent of the Russian-built lighthouse, the third oldest in Europe, which remains in operation using its original 19th-century French-built lenses. From the top at a height of 37 meters, the view took in the entire island, including the old and new pilot houses, the small visitors harbor, and a few summer cottages dotting the balance of the island.

A two-hour beam reach took us to the mainland town of Uusikaupunki where Carmen disembarked for Helsinki and, eventually, a return to his home in San Francisco. We were now officially a shorthanded crew.

Early Friday morning, July 22nd, Jocelyn and I sailed 40 nautical miles dead downwind from Uusikaupunki to Jungfraskar, a small nature preserve island in the middle of the archipelago. We were greeted there by friendly German pensioner who was cruising in his old Southerly 35 with his wife. He helped us tie up to the dock as a north wind strengthened.

The winds were forecast at near gale for two days, so we resolved to keep Windleblo safely tied to the dock until the blow passed. Fortunately, Jungfruskar offered delightful swimming and a well marked nature trail for entertainment.

We spent the layover day alternating between eating, reading, sleeping, and exercising with only a few boat chores. As at Isokari, the nature walk took us past derelict World War II gun emplacements. Unlike Isokari, Jungfruskar had a few permanent residents – several sheep and cows and their human keepers.

Sunday morning, we sailed close hauled 26 nautical miles southeast from Jungfruskar to Bjorko Island. We were now nearing the southern fringe of the archipelago. In an exquisite natural harbor, we found about 10 other boats with stern anchors out, bow-to rocks. I cajoled Jocelyn, but she was not emotionally prepared for her first try at this anchoring method, so we dropped anchor from our bow right in the center of the harbor.

We launched the dinghy, rowed to shore, and climbed over a small rocky divide between the harbor and a large, deep lake, the island’s main attraction. Everywhere we had been, we were told we had to go to Bjorko and swim in the “sweetwater” lake (a Finlander’s term for fresh water), and it was even better than we had imagined.

The water was cool, not cold, and silky smooth. Swimming in it felt like brushing through a forest of wispy, soft feathers or stroking a kitten’s soft fur. The smooth granite shores fell away quickly, giving the swimmer the feeling of infinite depth below. The lake was only two meters above sea level, and the view from the east shore took in the expanse of the lake and the sea beyond, separated only by a ledge of rock, creating an “infinity pool” effect. Jocelyn and I instantly agreed that the Bjorko sweetwater lake unseated the clear Bothnia seawater for best swim of the season, thus far.

We fit in a final luxurious swim in the Bjorko sweetwater before departing the next morning for Jurmo, another island on the southern fringe of the archipelago. A very different landscape awaited us there. Instead of rounded granite outcrops, we looked out over sand and cobble bluffs covered alternately with scrubby heath and small, weather beaten evergreens. We walked two kilometers to manmade stone circles and mazes, some of which date back to the Bronze Age.

We continued that afternoon eight miles to Uto Island, the furthest south in the archipelago, once again anchoring in the middle of the natural harbor. We ferried ashore in the dinghy and toured the island on foot, taking in Finland’s oldest lighthouse (the original built in 1753), several WWII gun emplacements, and a small museum filled with artifacts from Uto’s past, including seal hunting gear and military accouterments.

Tomorrow,we cross into the Aland archipelago. Next stop, Kokar Island. Stay tuned…