After the steamer has threaded its course for about two hours between the numerous rocks and islands, we suddenly get a glimpse of the tower of Marstrand’s fortress, dominating the whole island, and overlooking the stormy Kattegat, whose waves beat on its shores from all sides. Then we steam up through a very narrow passage, cut in the rocks years ago, to allow the gunboats of that day to retreat under the guns of the fortress.
Many a time, as a child, I used to watch with anxiety the progress of the steamer when in that narrow canal, as the boat almost touches the cliffs on either side, and it needs great skill to pilot her through safely.
Having passed through, we are in full view of Marstrand. What a glamour rests over that sunny island to many a holiday-seeker!
But as your eyes gaze upon it, you look in vain for any handsome buildings or hotels; what you see is a lot of nicely-built houses with red tiled roofs, all clustered closely together at the foot of the fortress, which is built on the highest hill of the island. A prominent feature is the white church with its square tower. The town was founded in 1220 by the Norwegian King Hakon Hakonson. During the sixteenth century it rose into importance as one of the best herring fisheries of the North, but in these days it depends almost entirely on the support of its summer visitors. We have now arrived at Marstrand quay, which is crowded with happy, chattering people, everyone eager to welcome some friend; or it may be they have just come down to watch the arrival of the steamer, this being one of the excitements of the island.
A SWEDISH SHEPHERDESS.
Anders Zorn.
How delicious and soft the air is, full of the briny smell of the sea! Excitement runs high amongst the young people, as they think of all the delights of a summer at Marstrand, which are chiefly summed up in the three words, bathing, sailing, and fishing. We soon get settled into our home for the summer, a large, airy villa, standing in a shady garden, not far from the battery, and having a fine view of the sea.
Our first fishing expedition is planned to take place the day after our arrival. We are wakened early in the morning, between five and six o’clock. With eagerness we jump out of bed, and as we mean business and not only pleasure, we don an old serge skirt, as we know we shall get many a soaking of salt water from the spray of the waves as well as from the dripping fish. After a hurried breakfast we rush down to the quay, where we find our faithful old skipper Anders in his large, comfortable sailing-boat, waiting for us.
We sail right out into the open sea, where we drop anchor, and now the sport begins. The fishing-lines are unwound, each line often having about six hooks. These we bait with mussels. When luck is good, one has not long to wait; we were soon all busy pulling up and letting down our lines again as fast as we could, often getting two whiting or plaice at a time.