SS Silla Sauna Catamaran

The ferry ride to Klädesholmen left me with salt air in my lungs and a view of rocky islands dotting the Bohuslän coast. I walked along the harbor, past old fishing huts painted red and white, toward the floating hotel where the sauna catamaran waited. Moored at the jetty, SS Silla looked steady on the water, its two hulls promising a calm spot for warmth amid the chill of a Swedish autumn.

I paid 195 SEK for a 90-minute session, which included a towel, bathrobe, and slippers. Drop-in was straightforward, no need for a booking on that quiet weekday. I changed in the lower deck area and stepped aboard, ready for the heat.

The sauna room on the lower level felt compact but inviting, with wooden benches that warmed quickly. I sat there as the steam built, my skin prickling from the rising temperature. A few others joined, locals mostly, chatting softly about the day's catch from nearby waters.

After a while, I moved to the relaxation room next door. It had comfortable seats and large windows overlooking the sea. I rested there, sipping water, before heading to the showers to rinse off. The setup included toilets too, everything clean and simple for a public spot like this.

What drew me back was the swimming jetty. Steps led right down into the ocean, and I eyed the cold water, steeling myself for the dip.

I lowered myself down the ladder, the sea gripping my legs with its brisk chill. The water was clear and salty, waves lapping gently against the catamaran. I swam out a bit, feeling the contrast to the sauna's heat rush through me. It woke every nerve, sharp and alive.

Back on board, I wrapped up in the bathrobe and let the moment sink in. The ocean access made the whole experience feel tied to the place, this rugged coast where swimming in fall still draws people out.

Others took turns too, some laughing as they emerged dripping. I lingered on the jetty, watching seabirds skim the surface before climbing back inside.

I climbed the stairs to the upper deck, where the hot tub bubbled under the open sky. The water was heated just right, easing the last of the cold from my bones. I sank in, the sun deck around me empty except for a couple lounging nearby.

From there, the view stretched across the harbor to the hotel and beyond, to the low hills of Tjörn island. The session wound down as I soaked, the 90 minutes slipping by in that mix of heat and breeze.

When it ended, I dressed and stepped off the boat, the harbor path leading me back through the village. The memory of the water stayed with me, cool against the fading warmth.