Happy Progress
We were still in the same position when the alarm went of at eleven. I must have felt the more refreshed but the other two soon swung into action getting dressed for the warm Scandinavian day.
Per and Markku had left us a note saying they were exploring the city for the day and would see us in the evening. I was more then determined to see them that evening if only to discuss the voyeuristic activities during the night.
Whilst we were waiting for the guys to get their acts together, Stephen and I sat on the foredeck. He was a little upset at not seeing any tall handsome built guys like himself. I felt for him. I have long known that his preference was for taller, muscularly built guys and preferably taller than himself. A difficult task with him already being 2 metres tall.
There was something else that he seemed to have forgotten about. He had told me that he was a tall but lanky child well into his teens. It was inly when he had joined the UK Army as a cadet in the Royal Military Academy in Sandhurst that he put on weight and muscle. Not all skinny guys become the Atlas type he had become. I had to jog his memory that he had married me even though I was three inches shorter than him.
Not long after our chat, Åke called from the cabin that he was ready to leave and we met him on shore.
Åke knew of a good place for brunch and we walked a few hundred metres in the warm sun. Now I could see him in daylight I thought him even more handsome than inside the yacht and even more fuckable. I wanted a chance to speak to Stephen alone to give my opinion.
Even eating there, there was a sexual tension between the three of us. Whether it was obvious to them I have no idea, Swedes tend to keep their thoughts to themselves in my experience.
The city and regional town hall was not too far away and after another walk we went to the reception. Åke had a good idea of what I was looking for and I have with me copied of the documents I had from back in Cornwall in Mevagissey and in Zennor. He spoke in clear Swedish to the reception who made a phone call and asked us all in English to sit and wait.
We hadn’t sat down for thirty seconds when a middle-aged man, smartly dressed came to speak to us. Again Åke, spoke for me and I was asked to show my documents. There was raised eyebrows from the official as I showed off my family tree going back to the early seventeen hundreds. The then spoke to me in good English in the sing song accent that some Swedes have.
He was very surprised at the detail of my documents and said that he might be able to help and that there would be a fee for any research. He didn’t say if it was likely that there would be any success, but he did ask why I wanted to know about the lady.
When I told him about my birth being blond and fair in an area noted for black haired and dark skinned and the DNA test he smiled.
“So, the lady was named Hannah-Anne Hyquist. It’s not a rare name but also not very common, and I see the dates of the documents and the estimation of the age and area of birth. I can pass this to a local expert for you and contact you when we have something to reveal to you”. The official was polite. “We shall see”.
I asked about fees.
“There is no problem there. The researcher will be happy to do the work for nothing and it seems from your notes and papers that you have something that can be added to our archive”. He spoke a few words to Åke in Swedish and offered his hand.
We shook hands and he smiled and we left.
“He says three or four days and asked if we were staying in the area or travelling”, Åke told us. “I said that we’d be here for that time and that then maybe we’ll sail onto Stockholm”.
I was very satisfied and excited and felt positive about things.
We picked up a local travel guide to see anything about the city and to learn about it’s history. We determined to pick up a car the next day and travel the area and then to sail around the district the following days. I wasn’t keen to be stuck at the berth all the time.
I was looking around at the local men to see if there was anyone with a resemblance to me but I soon learned to follow Stephen’s advice that I would have to remember that there was nearly three centuries or more of Cornish in me too, that local guys wouldn’t have.
The next day the five of us, myself, Stephen, Per, Markku, and Åke squeezed into the largest car we could find to go “ute på landet” as the three in the back of the car told us, determined that we learned some Swedish. Into the country, or “ulkona maalla” as Markku told us in Finnish. At the tenth or eleventh phrase we were being taught, Stephen and I turned the tables on the guys by talking in Portuguese, a language we both had work experience in.
We insisted in talking in a language the guys as handsome and sexy as they were didn’t understand until they gave up and we all agreed to speak in English.
We stopped at a couple of villages which I was assured were largely unchanged I a couple of centuries in some parts at least and it gave me an idea of the area.
It was later when returning to Nykoping, that we were walking the streets that Stephen stopped me and pointed out a guy on the opposite side of the road.
He had my build and height and was like many, blond, but facially he looked nothing like me.
We had a meal in a local restaurant and went back to our cruiser and had a round of the ‘brännvin’, and decided to get an early night. I was keen to get an early start the next day to explore the waters around the town.
That night Åke slept in the second bedroom with Per and Markku, leaving Stephen and I to have a quiet kiss and cuddle and to have a restful night’s sleep. If the guy’s next door were fucking and sucking I heard nothing of it. I was content cuddled up to Stephen’s wonderfully muscled body, with his arm holding me to him around my back.
I was surprised, the next morning to find only Markku on the boat with Stephen and myself. He gave me a knowing look as if to say they were away somewhere fucking about. The jist of everything was that they wouldn’t be sailing with us that day.
We filled the fuel tank locally. Even though Stephen and I can well afford it, we were shocked at the prices charged. We should have tanked up in Denmark. Sweden it seems taxes everything and Swedes don’t mind paying taxes. It keeps their country well run and tidy.
We headed out and much against my feelings we started burning some fuel already and we headed due South east against the wind to Gotland, the largish island on Sweden’s East coast and to the Capital, Visby.
Stephen decided to go naked once we were well out of view from the coast, and Markku advised him not to try to swim in the sea. The water temperature was only 9°C even in Summer. “That huge dick of yours will shrink to nothing”, he was warned.
He remained on board enjoying the Baltic sun and within a couple of hours, the Island came into view. Markku contacted the local coastguard to warn them of our presence for a few hours and Stephen dressed and we went ashore to look around the town which was small and really unspoiled.
We bought a couple of souvenirs, and had a call on our mobile from Åke and Per. They were in Stockholm, much to my surprise as we were due to go there in a few days’ time. It seemed that they were making some arrangements for our entertainment.
On the journey back, I put Stephen in charge of sailing back to Nykoping. The wind was in our favour, and Markku and I discussed the ride to Stockholm and for a couple of places I wanted to visit to the north, which might need his experience to get around.
We arrived back at just before sunset, The guys had not returned from Stockholm, and so we made use of being alone with Markku for once and treated him really well and to his total satisfaction.
The next day, our fifth, was a Sunday, and not much happened in the city, we waited until lunch before sailing out just for the fun of it, and we let Markku have the helm. We had good winds and excellent visibility. He was well able to handle the boat and was keen to try to get as much wind in the sails as he could. It was fun relaxing on deck as someone else controlled our cruiser yacht. I could have got used to it, if only Markku would do it for free. The sex between the three of us would be fun too, but I felt that Stephen and I would have preferred Åke to be with us if only he was a sailor.
We had a call that the guys were back and waiting in the city for us, so we returned to port with Markku expertly brining the boat to berth.
Monday was to be our last full day in Nykoping before heading to Stockholm and I was nervously eager to hear from the local history expert. Stephen did warn me that he might not come up with anything at all, and deep down I was ready for that news.
Swedes have a reputation of being a straight laced bunch of people without any humour at all, but I found out the opposite.
Åke received an early morning call and looked really glum as he spoke in Swedish to his caller. I took no notice as I thought the call was private but he kept looking at me and muttering “Nej, Nej”, into his phone looking downcast. I’d learned that it meant ‘No’.
He ended the call, and told me it was our contact who had some news for us and would we please go to the city hall to see him, and to collect our documents.
We collected ourselves, now expecting no news or some little news, and ready to be disappointed. As we walked to the building, Stephen consoled me by reminding me that we’d met three great guys had some hot fun and made some good friends, maybe next year our second cruise could be to somewhere warmer, like the Mediterranean.
Greece would be great after a month in the Canaries. He suggested. Maybe we could take Åke with us as our fuck toy. I told him I’d consider it.
We arrived in the reception of the building and the clerk we had met the previous week was standing with an elderly gentleman holding a large folder.
We were introduced and asked to accompany them to a conference room where there was a large table and chairs.
I was handed back my documents and was asked if I minded that they had been copied. I didn’t as I had my originals returned.
They continued in Swedish with Åke translating for us.
“So, we have looked at your family tree which is very impressive, and we saw the link to your family by marriage in seventeen hundred and eight of Hannah-Anne Hyquist, who became Hannah-Anne Korneys, and your grandmother eight times in the past”.
All this was true and known to me.
“We have researched the name in our archives, and are pleased to tell you that the lady is in our records, and that she was of a village near to the now City of Flen, which is about fifty kilometres from here to the North West”.
I was handed a document in which was the record of her birth. She had been born in sixteen eighty seven. She was one of two children of six to survive infancy. The other child was her brother who we know to be named Johan. He lived until seventeen forty.
“This was of the time of the King Charles the eleventh and the middle period of the Swedish Empire when Sweden ruled most of the Baltic area and we were a great trading nation”.
“We know of Hannah-Anne is that her family moved to Nykopping in the year sixteen ninety eight”.
I was pleased to know there was a brother.
“We have traced the male line of the Hyquist family”.
I was shown the family tree.
It seemed to start back in the fifteen hundreds, further back than my own family. I looked over it with fascination. The expert showed me where Hannah-Anne came into the tree. It stopped after her entry, and showed no other links, no marriage or children. I knew and was able to pass on her marriage to my ancestor back in Cornwall and was now able to continue her line to myself.
Then I looked down to follow her brother’s line, also following the male line. It stopped in nineteen hundred and five. I asked why.
“The family then moved from Nykoping to the United States, and our journey ends there I’m afraid”. I was a little upset as I had hoped maybe to find a relation locally.
“It was a time of great emigration from Northern and Eastern Europe to the New World”.
The final name on the Tree was Karl-Hans Hyquist. He was twenty three when he left Sweden with his parents. They had no more records.
Stephen spoke to me.
“You got a lot more than you hoped. There is a lot more you can add to your families story, even though the line does branch out somewhat wildly”.
I could see that and I was happy for it.
The expert handed me a folder with more documents.
“These are copies of all the certificates we have of the family, and details of censuses taken over the decades. I’m sure your friend would be able to translate them for you so you have some idea of their history”
Åke looked a little bemused as he translated for us. He had no idea that he’d be put into some work he wasn’t expecting.
The expert apologised that he could complete the history to the present but told us that he enjoyed the research and looking through my side of offspring of Hannah-Anne.
He wished us well and we departed.
We walked back to the boat, Åke and Stephen chatting away merrily and I totally in my thoughts.
We sat down, and I looked at the family tree again and the certificates not understanding a word that they said.
The handsome Åke came and sat next to me. There was a lot. I resolved then to ask him.
“How much would it cost to have this translated for us”. He looked at me, and shook his head.
“I have no idea, and no idea about the time it would take”. It seemed to me that he didn’t want the task.
“There will be people in Stockholm who would know who to contact. Let me find out.”. I left it in his hands, a happier person.
