Far off the coast of Finland, Jurmo rises from the sea – see how spring arrives on this remote island

Dusk descended on the Archipelago Sea as the Utö ferry plowed through the blue-gray sea as valiantly as one might expect from a vessel originating from Iceland. The ferry was sparsely populated, and it felt good to settle by the window and attune to the rhythm of the Baltic Sea. Every call of a seagull, the flight of a cormorant, and rocky island soothed my mind and soul as we embarked on a three-hour sea journey deep into the outer archipelago on a chilly April Friday night.

• Jurmo on the map
• Accommodation: The island offers e.g. cottage lodging and a national park camping area
• Arrival by car: Cars must be left at Pärnäinen harbor in Nauvo (Parainen)
• Arrival by public transport: Buses from Turku to Pärnäinen are available. From Pärnäinen, the journey to Jurmo continues aboard the m/s Utö.
• m/s Utö schedule

Upon our arrival at Jurmo’s harbor, it was nearly dark. A late winter’s grand snowfall had blanketed the island under such a thick layer of snow that, reportedly, hadn’t been seen there all winter. Our cabin host, Klas Mattsson, was there to meet us with his car, and we were able to load our bags into his vehicle so we wouldn’t have to carry them the kilometer-plus walk from the harbor to the village of Jurmo on foot. Jurmo has no shops, so except for drinking water, we brought our own food.

Walking along the wide track of the car tires was relatively easy, despite the thick surrounding snow.

In the center of the village, a wooden windmill rose on a small rock. The windows of the cottages still shone with the cautious light of the evening’s festivities. The cottages in Jurmo are beautiful and faithful to the style of the Finnish archipelago – atmospheric, authentic. Klas reminded me of where everything could be found – the dry toilets, drinking well, washing water well, woodshed, sauna – and we settled into our cozy cottage. I walked around the village in the darkness a bit more, feeling immense joy at seeing the light of the Utö lighthouse revolving on the horizon as a bright beacon several times.

The morning dawned overcast, and the last remnants of the snowfall were still falling from the sky. In a world almost entirely white, where only the sea stood out in blue-gray, the village’s houses and cottages added excessively idyllic beauty to the landscape.

I climbed onto a beach rock to sniff the air and greet the sea. The blue sky began determinedly clearing the clouds away, and the robust April sunlight took over, ray by ray.

We set off for a short walk. Jurmo also has a marked walking trail, a map of which can be found on the shed wall at the harbor, but now all the paths were buried under snowdrifts, in some places up to half a meter deep and completely hidden. So, we mostly went wherever we felt comfortable going. Our group included my somewhat elderly, no longer so agile parents, and heavy trudging through the snow was not on anyone’s wish list.

Beyond a pine forest, whose trees were almost in straight lines, we found access to a rocky beach near the village.

The seawater drew me in like a magnet. I headed straight for it, grateful I had chosen to wear rubber boots for the trip. I stepped beyond the snowline straight into the water. I felt the gentle embrace of the Baltic Sea through my boots, heard the waves, and sensed and smelled their pleasant splashing. I walked along the water’s edge, looking out at the sea and enjoying myself. I also had a waterproof camera case with me, as I enjoy underwater photography. I didn’t go into the water myself on this trip, but from the water’s edge, I was able to take a few photos and videos of how the spring wind and sun danced with the seaweeds and lights in Jurmo’s coastal waters.

As the day progressed, the power of the sun gained the upper hand over the snow. The snow, which had accumulated overnight on an island that had been completely snow-free and thawed, began to melt almost sizzlingly.

I climbed from the village street to a marked hill called Högberget to view the landscape. From the top, there’s a 360-view of Jurmo, though it’s not a very high hill. The midsummer pole, still in its winter slumber, rested at the top of the rock, and I imagined in my mind how beautifully it will surely be adorned for Midsummer. Midsummer is an incredible time to be in the Archipelago Sea – there’s hardly a more magical place in Finland to celebrate Midsummer than here.

A part of Jurmo is included in the Archipelago Sea National Park, and because of this, there is also a restricted area in the western part of the island where entry is prohibited during bird nesting season. There are clear signs at the edge of this area, so one doesn’t accidentally wander in. I walked westward until I reached this boundary, then turned back to walk on my little islet next to the harbor to the national park camping site. I saw no people or tents, but someone’s backpack was resting there neatly in the midst of the white snow, so its owner must have been somewhere around.

I followed the shoreline, watching the seaweed dance in the sheltered water. A whooper swan a short distance away in the sea informed its surroundings of my movements now and then by growling. The snow revealed that many other winged creatures had also been moving around the area.

An almost paper-thin eider skull rested beautifully on a red, sea-smelling seaweed mat that had washed ashore. I left the skull in its resting place but picked up some plastic waste and pieces of string from among the seaweed to recycle.

The sky turned bluer and bluer, and I realized how lucky we had been with the weather. Jurmo is one of those places that cottage lodgers like myself can’t really head to on a whim when the weather forecast looks good. The cottages are tightly booked far into the future, and now that we decided we wanted to return to Jurmo in August again for the heather season, we had to make a booking for August 2025. So, if you want to experience Jurmo in the summer, especially on a weekend, be sure to make your reservations well in advance. There’s more room in the winter, even for weekend arrivals. I definitely recommend Jurmo in winter, too, but of course, the weather can always be unpredictable. I visited the island myself during a late winter in March 2014. Sleet fell horizontally, and visibility was poor, but I have fondly remembered that trip as well.

I walked back along the village road, where I met up with my parents and spouse. My husband and I continued together to the south side of the island, where a path trampled in the snow led. Although all the cottages had occupants, in addition to the island having some permanent residents and a guesthouse, the place felt almost deserted. We only occasionally saw anyone close enough that greeting was appropriate – otherwise, the people we saw were mainly distant birdwatchers with their massive telescopes or little stick-figure silhouettes far away on the rocks or atop stone walls.

We returned to the same beach we had visited in the morning. The snow had receded, and the sound of Jurmo’s stones underfoot rang beautifully. It might be the most quintessentially Jurmo sound. You’ll hear it if you ever walk on Jurmo’s ground yourself.

We had booked a sauna session for the evening, which was included in our cottage rental. The small sauna had a postcard-like view of the sea. I had hoped to go swimming, but the dock was not yet in place. Going into the windy, wavy water from the slippery, smooth rocks would have been a doomed idea, even for someone like me who swims in ice-cold water weekly.

After the sauna, it was time to put on full clothing again, as the cooling and windy evening offered a lovely sunset.

The next morning, Sunday, we woke up lazily. The sky was again gray and cloudy, and a slight fog tried to cover the island, albeit unsuccessfully. We cleaned our cottage and packed our belongings, which we left outside on the table. Klas picked them up and took them to the harbor for us, where we walked along the nearly thawed village road in strong wind.

As the ferry curved into the harbor, a surprising number of fellow Jurmo visitors emerged from the depths of the island, considering how few people we had seen during our stay.

Jurmo makes me so happy so quickly that even leaving didn’t feel bad. It felt like I had received everything I could have possibly hoped for. The predominant feelings were happiness and gratitude. I hope everyone has a place in their lives that holds the same special significance for them as Jurmo does for those of us who have experienced it.

This post is also available in: German