He shivered in the cold fog. He sat at the boat stem looking out for shallow water and rocks. More important, looking out for the police and the coast guard. His brother sat by the oars, gently lowering them in the water at each stroke. Making sure there was no sound made. They could hear the dogs barking at the Norwegian side as the customs officers patrolled the shores. Nothing was heard from the Swedish side but they knew that the police were at the lookout for them.

The cold mist was their friend, he thought. They stayed in the middle of the fjord trying to stay out of reach. The yawl was loaded up to the rail with home-burned liquor. It was to be delivered to Norway where those distilled drinks were banned since a few years. He knocked gently on the wooden rail and his brother turned around. He pointed to the shore at the faint blinking light. It was the signal. With a few oar strokes his brother steered the boat in that direction.

They could hear the thumping of a steam boat approaching fast. Now his brother picked up the speed significantly. No need to be quiet anymore. Soon they could see the strong searchlights over the water. His heart was beating hard but he stayed focused on his task. With a low voice he directed his brother to the light. At each stroke the oars where now splashing in the water. They manged to steer the boat under a large alder with branches out over the water just as the searchlight blinded his eyes.

The Scandinavian countries are part of the “liquor belt” and in the beginning of 1900’s the alcohol abuse was a major problem. In Norway liquor was forbidden between 1917 to 1926. In Sweden only a limited amount was allowed per month. This was regulated with a small book where all purchases was logged, Motbok, from 1917 all the way to 1955.

Maybe this was the place, I found yesterday, used by the moonshiners? Don’t forget to like, subscribe and please let me know with a comment if you like me to continue the story. Ha de Gött!