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I was sitting at my desk this morning, minding my own business, when Mirinda suddenly told me to find out about the Christmas Eve Lighthouse in the Trosa archipelago. She wanted me to tell the story of its life during our boat trip today. So, obviously, I did. Both.
The boat trip was to Kråmö complete with picnic, in a test for Mirinda. It was to be her first trip to an island for a picnic then a bit of a walk in nature, with another person, apart from me. And I reckon she passed with flying colours. To cap it all off, Lisa had a great time as well.
The girls took it in their stride. Lisa particularly liked how they confidently climbed aboard and ashore afterwards. Of course, they weren’t too happy with the strong wind when going ‘flat chat’ as Mirinda calls top speed.
Anyway, we headed for the narrow channel, showing Lisa the cattle ferry before we finally sighted the little lighthouse.
There is evidence that there was a lighthouse on the point at the island of Bokö-Oxnös in the 17th century but the first, verifiable accounts come from 1867 when a red lighthouse keeper’s cottage was built, complete with light on the top of it. Then, in around 1892, a small, detached lighthouse was placed on the rocks below the cottage.
At the turn of the 20th century, the red cottage was replaced by the current yellow one. Then, the kerosene powered light changed power source which changed twice more: In 1941 then, finally, in the 1990’s, when solar panels were used. They still power the light.
Now, the most intriguing thing about the lighthouse is the name.
Officially, it is called the Bokö Lighthouse but, locals call it the Christmas Eve Lighthouse. The reason for this is unclear. However, of course, there are two possible explanations.
Firstly, because a German merchant ship sank near it on Christmas Eve. Secondly, and far better, is that an archipelago resident, stocked up on alcohol in Trosa and then anchored at the site on Christmas Eve, where he sat and drank it all.
Whatever the history of the name, the little lighthouse has been completely renovated and still remains a fair warning for boats who may not know the waters of the archipelago. Or who are filling up with booze while sitting at anchor off the rocky edge of Bokö-Oxnös.
Finally, having bored Lisa into submission, we landed at Kråmö and tied The Bob up to the empty dock. There were celebrations at having successfully navigated, stopped and tied up on the island. And we were alone. The island was ours. There may have been a few whoops of joy.
Eventually, after ham and brie baguettes with just a swipe of tomato and carrot marmalade (not banana*), Mirinda, Lisa and the girls headed off into the woods for a bit of a wander and an unexpected phone chat with Anna.
I settled down at a bench and table to have a read in the sunshine and quiet tranquillity of the island.
The only sound, apart from the occasional bird of prey, was the boat lightly knocking against the dock, way down in the water. It was as close to idyllic as one could get. Well, in my mind anyway.
At one stage, I closed my book and lay back on the bench, looking up into the blue sky, stretching. I closed my eyes, wanting to feel the bliss without visual interruption. Then I heard the footsteps on gravel.
It was quite eerie given I thought I was alone. Maybe the girls had returned earlier than expected. I sat up and looked around, but there was no-one. I shrugged and laid back down but, when I closed my eyes and relaxed, the footsteps returned. I started to feel like I was in a horror movie, and I’d open my eyes to some evil monster with a big axe and a scarred face.
But no. When I opened my eyes again, there was no-one there.
Then, I realised what it was.
It was the water lapping at the dock and our little boat. The water and slight breeze, carried the sounds up to my ears as I lay beneath the level of the table, which echoed and changed the sounds to someone walking on gravel. I shivered with relief that I’d not have to scream.
Eventually, the womenfolk returned, and we packed up and set off for our return to Trosa. It was a splendid journey with a remarkable lunchtime, picnic view.
Back at home, we had the pleasure of a video phone call with Max, who is currently in Santiago, studying. They looked very well, I have to say, and was very complimentary about my beard and slick ponytail.
* For some reason, when I told Lisa what I’d spread on the baguette, I thought I’d said banana instead of tomato. I immediately corrected myself by saying, “Tomato, not banana.” I was politely told I hadn’t said banana and had, in fact, said tomato. That was very weird as there were no bananas anywhere today.
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