Utö - May 19

The Baltic Sea looks black. It’s clear in the shallows but has this black quality to it that any depth confirms. It’s cold. But the blackness makes it look like it would freeze you to a block.

There is no real tide and therefore no waves, save those whipped up by the wind. This can range from nothing, when the sea looks like a giant black mirror, to meters high, and big enough to find any weakness in a boat, as the ferry Estonia found out when waves described as “normally bad” ripped off her car deck doors, and flooded the boat killing over 800 people within an hour. Wrecks of other unfortunate vessels remain to remind you of the danger that this calm looking sea can pose.

Out of the black rises land. Not gentle white beaches, but grey granite rocks. Hard, smooth lumps. Some home to nothing more than moss and whatever bird chooses to land on it, which isn’t many. The appeal even to an arctic migrating bird seems limited. Other rocks are big enough to form islands. Most still not good enough for human habitation. Sometimes a hedge grows up to half a meter high. Moss and clumps of grass may find the ability to grow in cracks. But anything over a meter will still be torn away in any bad weather.

Other islands have probably had less than 20 humans walk on them in the previous 20,000 years, but tall alpine trees form small forests for birds. Any beach could be a potential nesting ground for birds, unaffected by humans or any other real predator.

Then there are islands like Utö. A wooden jetty sticks out in a natural bay formed in the rock. Tyres hang to the side of it. Small patches of concrete link it to land where a gravel path leads up and over the small slope. No vehicles are on the island save 1 small lorry used by the local shop and any small vehicle used in building work, like a forklift truck. An irregular ferry brings you from the Finnish mainland.

A cluster of red/burgundy wooden houses are close by. There is a community here and people live in the isolation but still there is a need to cluster together for various reasons. Safety when the weather cuts off even those that live here, security, and the need to help and be helped when there is no one else around.

Slightly off to one side is a flat piece of concrete with two small spot lights either side. A faded H is painted in the middle. As long as the winds aren’t gale force, a person could be taken the 100+km to any of 3 capital cities nearby (Helsinki, Tallin, Stockholm). If there was a life threatening case and helicopters couldn’t fly, you would be left to wait it out and rely on the people on the island who can stem bleeds, apply tourniquets and fill you full of morphine.

There are other facilities. There is a school for the 20 or so children aged 4 to 16. The hospital facilities are better than just well intended locals. There is a GP who does have the ability to perform minor operations. The medical area is well equipped funded mainly by the government but with a lot of effort from the locals over generations who have either applied their building skills to build and maintain the facility, to using their campaigning skills to ensure that at least some of their taxes were spent there.

Seeing a GP for medical conditions is easy. You just call him. He does have specific times when he will work, it’s Michael, someone you’ve known personally since he moved to the island 7 years ago. He delivered your last child. Something that’s all possible if there are no complications and if you’re lucky, things happen rapidly.

Facilities for children are sparse. But on the other hand, playgrounds are not needed when children have rocks and beaches to climb over and play on. The whole island is a playground. Fish are there to be hunted. Snakes to be found and avoided. Stones which have not been touched by humans ever, can be picked up and hurled into rock pools and will probably remain untouched by a human ever again.

The remnants of the front line in the Cold War, a radar station that would have given Europe and the US first warning of Soviet nuclear bomber or missiles on route to deliver global destruction remain in place and operational.

There is no need for any police force, Courts or security service. Even though you pay the same taxes as someone living in the city who does. The islands 40 or so residents generally cooperate between themselves and there is no real crime to speak of. Everyone has the same, there is nothing someone else has that you need to take that you cannot borrow.

Route onto the island is limited to the one main ferry. In peak summer season this means you can get to and leave the island every other day via the 4 hour ferry which plods slowly back to mainland Finland. I say mainland. Its the nearest outcrop of rock followed by a 2 hour drive to get back to Helsinki.

Its a strange place that reminded me very much of my visit to the Shetland Islands and to a lesser extent, Reykjavik. This is a place that I wouldn't normally choose to go to, but when you get there, its a place which captures your inner cave man.

We all essentially live on rocks sticking out of the sea, its just that in places like Utö its literal, you can see that you're literally standing on the rock that's sticking out of the sea. You wonder why communities like this exist, the conditions can be harsh and difficult and you're cut off from not only luxuries, but at times, life saving necessities. But despite all that, you can also see why people would live here. Its beautiful basic living at its best.