We are already well outside the traditional territory that the Sami people occupy in Finland.
For reasons unknown to reason, Sami is the name of the two guides who pick us up from Merihovi and guide us to board the Sampo icebreaker.
Since the end of the previous short day, we have been staying at this 50s revival hotel in the center of Kemi.
In scenic terms, Kemi doesn't take anyone's breath away. It's not just any Finnish city either. It stands at the height of the Gulf of Bothnia, next to the only place where Sweden and the Suomi nation meet on the seashore, a mere hundreds of kilometers south of the Arctic Circle.
Kemi is industrial in a subtle way, with the added value of its deep-water port, precious in these long-frozen latitudes.
The harbor would be of little use if the upper meters of the offshore sea remained solid through the long winter. That's why one of Kemi's two main attractions, the icebreaker Sampo, entered the stories, in the Finland and in ours.
Caring for a Sami Duo
"Are ready? Did they bring everything?” do the Samis ask us? We thought so. “Have you ever ridden a snowmobile?”
It was the third time we explored different parts of this northern region of Finland. In all of them we had this opportunity.
“Great! This saves us some briefing and instruction time because it’s nothing serious, but we’re already a little late.”
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Kemi's semi-frozen dock, and in the vicinity of its other great curiosity, the great ice castle of Lumilinna. There, a troupe of eastern outsiders was having fun clowning around in the snow, and filming them with the monument in the background.
In Finnish austere and pragmatic good manner, one of the Samis interrupts the fun. The morning program and the bikes had to be started. And his priority had no recourse.
An Icy But Dazzling Expedition
From one moment to the next, from amazed admirers of that glacial immensity of the Gulf of Bothnia, we started to traverse it in caravans and at great speed.
State-of-the-art snowmobiles contrast with traditional Meri-Lapin tents
We advanced a good fifteen kilometers over the frozen sea. And, returning to land little or nothing distinguishable, along a winding coastal path, among shrubs and spruces, some of them transformed into elegant natural chandeliers by the compacting algidity of the night.
The boreal bikers ahead of us stop. Motorbikes park at the entrance to a property with three large conical snow-covered tents and an open corral which, at that time, held only three or four reindeer. Two Lapp cattle breeders emerge from the middle of the tents to welcome us.
Wear attire to match the condition. Reino Niemela and Jani Lammi, as they are called, invite us to enter the highest tent, which most resembled a North American Indian tipi.
Visit to the Nevado de Meri-Lapin
Happier dealing with their families and reindeer than with outsiders who said little to them, the duo fulfills their role with a coolness befitting the climate. To compensate, they restore the strength of the fire in the center of the tent and serve us coffee for everyone.
Taiwanese talk to each other. We were already used to pulling the most introverted Finns. We took the initiative again. “But you are Sami?” we asked them genuinely confused by the apparent similarity of the costume.
Reino, the elder, speaks in the well-inspired way (pushing air in his lungs), paused, spared and slow that characterizes the Suómi's speech: “We are not Sami, we are Lapps. here at Finland, Lapps are all those who, in Lapland and for several generations, have had and raise reindeer.
You don't need to be sami. We are next to the village of Meri-Lapin. You Sami are higher up there."
Lapão Jani Lammi towed by one of his reindeer near the village of Meri-Lapin.
The warmth of the wood-burning heat, the encouragement of strong coffee and the conversation with the hosts – however, already less annoyed for being annoyed in their role – kept us immersed in that stuffy sub-arctic refuge.
Soon, the Baptism Samis again snatch the group from the comfort of the tent to the inhuman coldness of the outside. “Come on guys, there's nothing new about coming.
Only when we approach the icebreaker Sampo, is that I'm going to slow down a lot. Do the same. The boat may have left some failures. We don't want to fall into them.”
Towards the icebreaker "Sampo"
And there we went, again in a caravan. Back to those along the coast and meanwhile in a straight line along the vast icy highway of Bothnia.
The sky remained a purplish white. It emulated the terrestrial surface and made the entourage even more insignificant in that unfathomable all or nothing.
After twenty minutes and a few dozen kilometers, we detected a black shape on the horizon. As we approach, we confirm the expected icebreaker Sampo.
We stopped the motorcycles about a hundred meters away, and the introductions were completed. We went up to the deck through the service portal.
By that time, the boat already had dozens of passengers on board at the original departure point, near Kemi.
Behind him, well marked, the channel he had opened to get there was full of small blocks of ice that grew and strengthened as time passed.
Soon, the “Sampo” resumes its navigation into the Gulf of Bothnia, always opening up the very compact ice, and extending the channel it had formed until then.
Passengers enjoy the open channel in the Gulf of Bothnia from the stern of “Sampo”.
Across the Gulf of Bothnia
Rafaello, an Italian who had worked on the ship for many years, presents himself in the warm and seductive way that fills the soul of almost all Latinos.
He takes us on a tour of the most curious corners of the boat and regales us with information to match.
Italian crew member Rafaello in the communications room dated from the old icebreaker “Sampo”
“They know that the “Sampo” is 76 meters long but weighs three times as much as a passenger ship of the same size. Why? Because to break the ice it has to be a lot heavier.
Right at the time of construction, in addition to receiving a hyper-reinforced hull, 100 tons of water were added to allow it to do its work. Funny isn’t it?”
Almost everything was funny on board.
Starting with an Italian guiding, in English, Portuguese passengers on a Finnish icebreaker.
Afterwards, we had come from a few days in Hailuoto island, close to a city further south, Oulu. Well, in Hailuoto, one of our cicerones from a local farm was also called Sampo.
When we wonder about the abundance of the name and investigate, we find ourselves on a dizzying journey into the domains of Finnish mythology.
The Mythological Origin of Sampo
According to this, Sampo was a magical artifact of an indeterminate type that benefited those who possessed it with good luck and wealth. It had been built by Ilmarinem, a blacksmith and hammermaker god, eternal artificer and inventor par excellence in the “Kalevala".
Now, the "Kalevala”, in turn, is the respected national epic poem that compiles Finnish folklore and oral mythology and the Karelia region, that Finland saw, in large part, lost to the USSR after the Winter War between the two states.
It is no coincidence that the name of this mythological artifact was attributed to the powerful vessel in which we were following.
Cargueiro opens its own path, in a different direction from the channel furrowed by “Sampo”.
To begin with, over time, the mythological Sampo has been interpreted in all different ways and forms.
Pillar or world tree, compass, astrolabe, treasure chest, Byzantine coin, shield from the Swedish Vendel period (before the Viking Age), Christian relic, among others.
With such an abundance of chances, why not an icebreaker.
At the time it was operating at its fullest, that peculiar marine contraption proved miraculous to countless shipping companies, exporting and importing companies and, of course, to the inhabitants of both sides of the Gulf of Bothnia.
And how we delighted, from the bow, to see it break the ice ahead, while respectful of the results of measurements of its thickness made and communicated to the commander from time to time by a crew member.
The boat was already living its old age.
It was just common sense to avoid getting into areas that were too challenging.
“Sampo”: 30 Years of Hard Icebreaker
This one "Sampo” now also winter cruise was built between 1960 and 1961, in Helsinki to succeed another homonymous icebreaker that operated between 1898 and 1960, the first in Europe with both bow and stern thrusters.
the icebreaker Sampo surrogate transporting us maintained navigable lanes in the far north of the Gulf of Bothnia for nearly thirty years.
Worn out by the time of use and surpassed by technological evolution, it was purchased by the city of Kemi for around 167 euros.
That same year, without having even started to operate, the Finnish Tourism Board considered it the Best Tourist Product of the Finland.
In 1988, he began his career in tourist shuttles, on the same itinerary and “party program” that we enjoyed.
As an inveterate icebreaker, it was immobilized during the Arctic summer, when on good days, even inflatable boats sail the Gulf of Bothnia.
Several nautical miles later, most passengers had searched the boat and many had lunch on board.
The "Sampo” stops again. The ship had long been crushing and splitting the ice beneath its hull.
It was time for the passengers to bathe in the “pool” thus created.
Equipped with thick, insulated diving suits, two volunteers prepare to dive in the Gulf of Bothnia channel opened by “Sampo”
Time to Test the Icy Waters of the Gulf of Bothnia
Another crew member approaches us. He strapped us into full red wetsuits and gloves to match our sizes. “Tighten everything! Don't leave any slack!…
If for some reason they let some of this water in, believe me it is much worse for the water heater at home to stop working.”
On the other such trips through Finnish Lapland, we had dived without facts into the almost sacred Suómi avantos, the openings that the Finns create in frozen rivers or lakes and into which they dive after a while. soaking in the saunas.
We were, therefore, somewhat intrigued as to why its use was mandatory. We wouldn't be long in thanking her.
Already equipped in the style of astronauts wearing a Martian polar cap, we descended the portal. We approached the course opened by the ship.
Rafaello, give us an OK. We descended not with a simple stimulating dive, as happened in the advances, but slowly, slowly, with care to match.
Ice fragments also abound in that section of the channel. At the 23rd negative that made itself felt, they were continually renewed and increased in size.
The crew had no way of containing or keeping them away.
The thick suits that turned us into cartoons served not only as thermal protection but also as padding against the sharp edges of such mini-icebergs.
A Comic Float
Therefore, we had fun doing what the costumes allowed us to do: float – preferably on our back – practice short geriatric swims and ask them to record the moment that, every second that passed, beyond singular, if it tasted more idiotic.
Experience the experiences of the trip aboard the “Sampo” passengers float in the semi-cold water of the canal just opened by the icebreaker in the Gulf of Bothnia.
Luckily, the TV team from Taiwan, did not wait for us to leave to enter the scene. Producing contents with an admittedly burlesque content, he tried to continue our essay with characters specialized in the genre.
With all passengers back on board, the ship reversed toward Kemi.
Upon arrival, already disembarked, we spent a good half hour on the icy Gulf of Bothnia, circling and photographing that land icebreaker, even real, with its mythical touch, in Finland.
Passengers examine the huge reinforced hull of the “Sampo” from the solid surface of the surrounding Gulf of Bothnia.
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