For better, for worse

It’s often said that sailors are married to the sea. For the fishermen of Hönö, that’s not the case. The sea is at the center of their lives but family has always been the bond that holds everything together. Nowhere is that bond stronger than onboard the Västerland.

"The most important thing is to enjoy the job. Just make sure it works ... and that the money comes in, of course!”
– John Sörensson, Crewmember

Hönö is a small island community perched on the edge of the Swedish west coast. It’s part of a rocky archipelago, carved by the unforgiving wind and waves that drive in across the slate-gray North Sea.
The harsh natural forces also shape the people who live there. Or at least they used to. Nowadays Hönö is mostly home to commuters who enjoy island life when they’re not catching the ferry to offices or schools in the modern city of Gothenburg. And they’ve brought back stylish cafés and arty shops enjoyed by thousands of weekend visitors and summer vacationers.
But it wasn’t always like this. At its height in the 1940s Hönö was all about fishing. Home to over 60 vessels and many thriving boatyards, everyone on the island was involved – men, women, even the children.

BOUND BY THE SEA

Life was a shared rhythm: Preparing the boats and the nets, setting sail, fishing for days (or, if you were back on the island, carrying on the work at home and trying not to worry), returning safely, and unloading the catch before finally reuniting the families and capturing some much-needed rest.
Then it would be church on Sunday, a few prayers for protection at sea, and the weekly cycle started again.
It’s a unique way of life that’s difficult to understand if you haven’t lived it. In fact, it’s been said that these west coast fishing communities often had more in common – and more real contact – with the Scottish fishermen making the journey a thousand miles away on the other side of the North Sea than they did with the nearby city folk of Gothenburg.
Only a stone’s throw away but in the wrong direction from the sea that called to them.

There was certainly a strong sense of togetherness in Hönö and within the families who shared every good catch and every punishing loss, some of them tragically fatal. It was into this world that Douglas Sörensson was born in 1934. And there was never any doubt that he would head out to sea when he turned 14 and left school. As Douglas says, “My father was a fisherman and his father before that. That’s the way it’s always been. So there was never another thought – it was fishing all the way.”

A FAMILY AFFAIR

Douglas is now in his 80s and no longer ventures out on the open sea. And the Hönö fishing fleet is down to just ten vessels. But the family business continues with his sons Kjell and Håkan who run the operation along with two other crewmembers, one of whom is Kjell’s son John. Together they crew the 24 meter-long, 226-ton Västerland to trawl and fly-shoot the Skagerrak strait between Norway, Sweden and Denmark. Bringing up cod, shrimp, haddock, plaice and flounder along with the occasional oddity like a cow skull or a washing machine.
We travel out to meet Douglas and his family on one of those summer days on the coast when it feels like winter is only a dark cloud or a shift of wind away. The Sörensson clan is gathered in the Västerland’s warm, comfortable control hut and we settle down with a coffee to find out about their life.
It only takes a few minutes before you’re aware of two things: The Sörenssons are a very close family and they share an incredible passion for fishing. It’s typified by Douglas himself who describes how he’s still part of the weekly routine even though he’s retired: “When the boys head out on Sunday night, I go to the shore and wave them off as they pass by. Almost every evening, I call them to find out how the day has gone and where they are. Then I’m often down at the dock when they get back from selling the catch in Gothenburg. And I’ll get some fish to take home with me for the week ahead. I have great contact with my boys.”
As for “the boys”, they also have a great connection. Kjell, the skipper, and his brother Håkan, the Chief Engineer, have an almost telepathic relationship out at sea. “I notice when we’re at sea and certain things need to be done,” says Kjell, “It’s enough for me to look at Håkan, and him to look at me, for us to know what we need to do.” And that is a good thing given the danger they face every day out on the notoriously brutal North Sea.

RISK MANAGEMENT

Although they downplay it, with the uniquely modest pride of men who have spent their lives accepting Nature’s challenge, the Sörensson family have experienced more than most in a boat that looks sturdy in the dock but a small toy when there is nothing but the wind and the waves. From days drifting at the mercy of violent storms to finding shelter during a hurricane with only instrument navigation, they have lived with the sea for better and for worse. Douglas describes such an episode and then he gives a little shrug, “There have been many tough times out at sea. But that’s the life. And you forget about it before you even get back home.”
While the risk may be part and parcel of the life that has been carved out for them, ultimately there’s a sense of security that lets them get on with their job and even enjoy it. As Kjell explains, “From time to time we get hit by a dangerous-looking wave. But so far it’s gone OK. We trust the boat and our equipment. And our crewmates.”

There’s a lot to be said for sharing a passion as well as the risk and hard work that comes with it. Håkan is quick to point out that the wives and mothers are equal partners, perhaps even bearing the heaviest burden: “Now my kids are older, but before it was my wife who had the toughest job. So you need to be strong. This life needs strong women.”
It’s a bond that is strengthened and renewed every time they are apart and then reunited, “You fall in love again every weekend you come home. Even after thirty years”.
Douglas echoes the sentiment. When asked what he loves about fishing and the moments he remembers the most, it’s not the sea and the friendship onboard, it’s coming home: “The best thing about fishing is when you’ve been out and caught lots of fish. Then you come home to the wife and kids – that’s absolutely the best feeling.”