A trip report by Olle Persson.

• Route: Svinesund (Norwegian border) – mouth of the Torne River (Finnish border)
• Distance: 2,890 km
• Paddling days: 110, spread over a little more than ten summers
• Daily distance: usually 30–40 km

From Norway to Finland along the Swedish coast

I leave the calm water of the Falsterbo canal and head out into the southern Baltic. People in a passing motorboat shout something I can’t hear. Right outside the breakwaters I meet a high, at times breathtaking swell left behind by an earlier storm. I keep my speed over the crests, brace as I slide into each trough, and try to watch out for the long, hard-to-spot fishing nets so common on this coast – and for treacherous sandbanks. It starts to rain and darkness falls as I reach the edge of Trelleborg. Soaked, I hide the kayak in the reeds, find a hostel and get the last free bed. My paddling partner has the tent – we lost each other in the canal – so I can only hope he has found dry land too.

One stage every summer

My friend Jan Lönn and I are paddling the whole length of Sweden’s coast, one stage each summer. We set off under the Svinesund bridge on the Norwegian border in calm sunshine – the start of a journey that would take over ten years, or more precisely 110 days, and cover 2,890 km. We avoid the busiest summer weeks and the main boating channels.

The big ferry ports are a real danger for paddlers, with ships and waves bouncing off breakwaters. Otherwise we are remarkably alone. We carry food and tents and only need to visit “civilisation” for drinking water – or a cosy harbour restaurant serving fresh seafood.

The quiet west coast

Bohuslän and Halland, with very different coastlines, are relaxed stages. Outside peak season the coast feels almost deserted and the weather is mostly kind. Only the approach to Gothenburg gets dramatic, when the wind suddenly rises to near gale force before we reach shelter behind Älvsborg fortress. In the southern Gothenburg archipelago, curious seals keep us company; further south, the rocks give way to soft green meadows and easy campsites with sea views. The busy ports of Helsingborg and Malmö we pass with some relief, while the pillars of the Öresund bridge show the current flowing north towards the Kattegat.

One long beach

The east coast of Skåne is one long beach. At dusk, in a fresh offshore breeze, I nearly capsize in cold water on the six-kilometre crossing to Hanö in Blekinge – and we get a telling-off from the locals in the harbour. Jan and I decide to paddle separately from then on, as we have very different attitudes to risk, and from Karlskrona Stig Johansson becomes my paddling partner. Near the Småland border we almost paddle into a white-tailed eagle, and the deserted beaches of Kalmarsund turn out to be popular with naturists – which we discover a little too late, more than once. Passing the nuclear power plant at Oskarshamn, a security car follows us along the shore until the guards decide we are harmless.

The “domes” of S:t Anna and the Stockholm archipelago

The S:t Anna archipelago is a maze of low islands whose rounded tops are called kupor, “domes”. Out here, a freestanding dome tent is the way to go: you can pitch it on the smooth rocks right by the water, and the morning swim is just outside the door.

The vast Stockholm archipelago, from green, friendly islands to rugged skerries, shows the same thing as the west coast: away from the busy channels and crowded anchorages you have peace and quiet, often completely alone – thanks largely to the Archipelago Foundation, which keeps large areas open to the public.

Norrland: long, rocky and friendly

North of Öregrund, the boats disappear as if by magic. Beaches are empty, houses few, and the coast becomes stubbornly rocky and hard to land on – but the further north we go, the friendlier and chattier the people we meet. The northern coast is looong, and the usual south-westerly tailwinds seem to turn north every time we push off. Still, we keep our usual 30–40 km a day. Sea kayaking can be a bit like mountain hiking: wide horizons, fresh wind and plenty of time for your thoughts.

The High Coast – and the dullest stretch

The High Coast, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, lives up to its name. We are more or less blown into the tiny harbour of Berghamn, surrounded by high hills, and rewarded with the village’s annual party. Further north we surprise a work colleague at his summer cottage, who quickly feeds us. The Västerbotten coast turns out to be Sweden’s most monotonous – boulders and forest mile after mile – brightened only by the restaurant in Ratan and a sudden tailwind.

Suddenly Finnish place names

The Norrbotten archipelago is a real gem to finish with: sandy islands where we camp among beach grass, alone on long beaches. East of Kalix, most names on the map are suddenly Finnish as we approach the bilingual Torne Valley. A whirlwind with thunder and hail passes while we visit the remote Haparanda Sandskär National Park. Finally, into a headwind, we reach border cairn no. 59 at the mouth of the Torne River, Sweden’s easternmost point on the mainland – and face a new problem: finding the next challenge.

Start your own Swedish adventure in Stockholm

You don’t need ten summers to experience the Swedish coast. In Stockholm, rent a kayak at our base on Långholmen or join a guided kayak tour in English. Planning a longer trip? You will need a seaworthy sea kayak, a light paddle, a life jacket and a dry suit for cold water – or an inflatable kayak you can take on the train. More inspiration: the best places for kayaking in Sweden.