Heading into the wilderness
In early summer of 1984, I took off on a solo trip to Hotagen - about 100 km north of Östersund, far up in the northern parts of Sweden. I brought with me a canoe, a backpack, and the simple plan of spending a week relaxing, paddling through lakes and falls, and eventually making my way down to Östersund.
I had to register with the local canoe rentals, and they drove me to the starting point, north of Hotagen Lake. Already that first late night, I saw brown bears, moose, and other wildlife - so I found a tiny island close to the shore, full of trees, which seemed safer in case a curious bear wandered by. I’m not afraid of bears, but I’d hate to be surprised in my tent.
Waterfall and rescue
The next day, I reached a pretty hefty waterfall - a foss. It looked intense, but I made it through without complications. I had a life vest (one I acquired from a SAS plane in the early 80s - auto inflatable), so I wasn’t too worried. I soon found another small rocky island, set up my tent, and started a fire. Not long after, I heard yelling - in Danish, of all languages.
I quickly put out the fire, jumped into my canoe, and paddled around a corner. About half a mile away, I saw three people - two in the water, the third on a rock, clearly exhausted. Their backpacks were floating away, and their canoe had broken into two pieces, though it was still loosely holding together.
I acted fast. Got them one by one into my canoe, dropped them off on land, and then paddled out to collect their gear. The bags were light - military issue. Once I had everything secured, I told them I had a safe setup further down the river at a huge lake. They could walk through the woods while I paddled ahead with their packs.
Fire, shelter, and a story
Back at my camp, I re-lit the fire in two protected spots with smaller rocks and waited. About an hour later, they reached the shore. I pushed the canoe toward them, one at a time, using a rope leash. Once they were over, I helped them warm up by the fires. They had a military tent, soaked but well-made - we shook it out and helped it dry. I gave them spare gym pants and thermal leggings, and helped gather small branches to place under their tent floor. They stepped on them to crush them flat before putting their sleeping mats on top - a trick I had learned.
They warmed up fast and told me they were from the elite Danish army corps - on a survival training mission. So there I was - a young Greenlander with long dark hair - helping elite soldiers survive in the Swedish wild. I couldn’t help but smile. I told them about a family member from generations back who was part of a polar expedition. He survived while others didn’t and wrote crucial notes explaining what happened - knowing he wouldn’t make it, but his words would.
Morning and parting ways
They listened closely. The guys had a bottle of vodka they’d picked up in Östersund. I told them to save it for the night - it would get cold - and chocolate would be better to keep the body burning calories. They soon fell asleep. I stayed up a few more hours watching the fires before heading into my tent.
The next morning, while they still slept, I gathered wood and restarted both fires. I boiled some water from a nearby river that flowed down from the mountains. When the sun rose, they joined me by the shore, planning to walk to Laxviken at the southern end of the lake - a few miles, but really more like triple that if you followed the shoreline.
Later that day, I reached Laxviken by canoe. The locals told me the soldiers had been picked up by a car - and they’d told them about “a Greenlander in the woods.”
New visitors from Polar Studios
I pitched my tent right in the middle of the village near the lake - at some sort of lookout point - and spent the night there.
The next day, three people arrived in a bigger canoe. They were from Stockholm - on a “survival” trip, though it looked more like a party. Red-faced and exhausted, they were happy when I told them, “Plenty of space here.” They set up their tent next to mine.
These guys had crates of beer, food, and gear. We ended up talking all night. Turned out they were from Polar Studios - ABBA’s legendary studio. Engineers and assistants. They’d been sent out to cool off after weeks of intense sessions. I don’t remember who they’d been working with, but I do remember them telling me how ABBA built their layered vocals - 2nd and 3rd voices, little tricks I kept with me.
Marie and the echoes of Sweden
In fact, I used that very trick on my track Marie, from the To Sweden EP - funny how those ideas show up years later. I wrote Marie in the mid-90s, a decade after that trip. You can listen to it here: Marie – YouTube
The song is about a dear friend I met while working in Sweden. She and her boyfriend took great care of me during my time off. Marie also appears on my album Last Flight from Arlanda - available on most streaming platforms.
One trip, many memories
I ran into the soldiers again in Östersund later. They were heading north, bound for another survival training session - possibly in the Arctic.
That trip is one I’ll never forget. I saved three elite soldiers, learned studio secrets from the ABBA crew, and paddled through some of Sweden’s wildest nature - not bad for one young Greenlander with a canoe.