It’s party time on the Stockholm-Helsinki ferry
The party started an hour before the M/S Gabriella ferry slipped out of Stockholm harbor for its overnight voyage to Helsinki. At the outdoor bar on Deck 9, passengers had gathered for the 4 p.m. sailing. Talking excitedly over drinks, they reveled in the Nordic summer weather — bright sun, cool breeze, electric blue sky with cotton-ball clouds — while a DJ mixed bass-heavy Eurodance and vintage disco. Kids on holiday with their families dashed about.
Ferry trips on the Baltic Sea, including the 16-hour ride between Stockholm and Helsinki, are practically a summertime ritual for many of the region’s vacationers, with nicer cabins booked out far in advance. The ferries are known (infamous, some might say) for their party atmosphere, and though the fun has a more family-friendly vibe during the July to August high season, there’s no shortage of grown-up high jinks, no matter what the time of year.
My husband, Mac, and I were part of the group on Deck 9. We’d gone to the bar after dropping our luggage in our cabin and, soon after, beers in hand, had fallen into conversation with Hanna Bäckman and Anna Dahlman, two Stockholm residents. “The last time we took this trip was 29 years ago,” said Dahlman, a real estate agent, who explained it had been a secondary school outing. Bäckman, a hydropower project manager, laughed. “Yes, and we plan to have as much fun on this one,” she said.
A buzz rippled through the crowd as the 11-deck ferry carrying cargo, cars and 2,000-plus passengers gently pulled away from its berth. For the next several hours, the ship would thread its way through the Stockholm Archipelago, a dense constellation of skerries and forested islands dotted with barn-red wooden cabins and fluttering blue-and-yellow Swedish flags, before crossing open stretches of the northern Baltic Sea.
Soon after departure, the air turned chilly, and the crowd dispersed to indoor restaurants, bars and entertainment venues. There, as the sun shone through much of the night on mesmerizing views of land and water, the party would continue. Hundreds of passengers at a time would crowd the dinner buffet; some would indulge in spa treatments; and young people would be entertained by a limbo contest, magic show, scary ghost room and more. Many adults would drink, gamble and dance into the early hours. And in the disco, well past midnight, I would unleash my inner Abba.
Bargain Baltic cruising
It takes about an hour to fly from Stockholm to Helsinki, but where’s the fun in hurtling through the sky in a pressurized tube when you can take a mini-cruise? That was our thinking as my husband and I researched how to travel in early July between the two capitals during our monthlong stay in Sweden and Finland. We were sold on the ferry when we learned how scenic the route is and how surprisingly low the fares are, even in the summer high season.
Since at least the 1960s, the northern Baltic has been crisscrossed by large roll-on, roll-off ferries for freight trucks, cars and passengers. As the trip evolved from no-frills transport to a more cruiselike experience, the ferries have become hugely popular with travelers from the region. In 2023, they carried 14.3 million passengers, more than three-fourths of them from Finland, Sweden or Estonia.
The ferries enjoy duty-free status, which makes for steeply discounted booze, whether onboard drinks or especially in the shop — a big draw, given the region’s alcohol prices, among the highest in Europe.
“The ferries have a party-boat reputation,” said Esa Talonen, the CEO of the Finland-based IMT travel agency. “They’re places where you can spend time with friends, eat some good food and enjoy the much cheaper alcohol.”
A night aboard the Gabriella
Two Finland-based companies, Viking Line and Tallink Silja, currently dominate the Stockholm-Helsinki route. There are daily sailings in each direction throughout the year, and fares include basic accommodation, with a surcharge for nicer cabins.
We chose Viking Line mostly because its Stockholm terminal was only a 10-minute walk from our lodgings. In April, I booked a midpriced, 124-square-foot Seaside Premium cabin with a large window, queen bed, air conditioning, TV and en suite toilet and shower for 259 euros (about $287). A generous breakfast buffet was included. Prices vary by season and availability, but had we pinched pennies, we could have had the basic accommodation, a pair of single berths in a windowless, 90.5-square-foot cabin with the same amenities, but no breakfast, for 111 euros, which was cheaper than flying.
Three factors help keep fares reasonable, according to Talonen. “A lot of revenue comes from onboard sales, including duty-free goods,” he said. “The ships carry cargo and not just cars and passengers, and the lines receive government financial support under EU guidelines because they’re essential to the economy.”
Our cabin, which resembled a small, pleasant motel room, was a tight fit, but there was enough stowage in the small wardrobe, on the narrow vanity and in the closet-size bathroom, a wonder of efficient space and gushing hot water. The comfortably firm bed took up most of the cabin, and while lying on it, I could watch islands come and go in slow motion, some close enough to spot people waving from beaches and gardens.
In the plain but pristine Archipelago Spa, my husband disappeared into a treatment room for a prebooked, 45-minute massage (58 euros). I happily baked in the sweltering, dimly lit sauna (14 euros), joining a trio of Finnish-speaking men discussing “Star Wars” — or so I gathered from the only English words I could pick out (“The Mandalorian,” “The Acolyte”).
Afterward, in the pocket-size casino with just two playing tables — one for blackjack, one for roulette, and only the wheel in action — my husband won 34 euros on slots. With his newfound riches, we went shopping.
The large, bustling duty-free shop had the utilitarian look of a Target store, albeit one catering mostly to drinkers and smokers, with some cosmetics, food and clothing. An employee served us sample shots of spiced rum before we made our purchase: a liter of Koskenkorva vodka (23.95 euros).
A scene of happy pandemonium greeted us at the dinner buffet (44.50 euros per person, including wine and beer). The roar of voices and clinking cutlery filled the huge sea-view room, where most of the 508 seats were occupied. Diners swarmed the buffet’s groaning board, piling plates with gravlax and shrimp, roast beef with red-wine sauce, jewel-red strawberries and whipped cream, blackberry crumb cake and other offerings. Most of the food was quite good, but even better was the people-watching: patient parents with boisterous kids making endless dessert forays; couples staring into each other’s eyes; a bachelorette party for a woman with a white tulle veil. We lingered over dinner for a good two hours.
Singalongs and ‘Mamma Mia’
It was 10 p.m. by the time we began making the rounds of night spots, beginning with a snug pub, where instead of the crowd we’d expected for karaoke — always a hit on these trips, according to online reports — a torpid scattering of passengers was watching the televised European soccer championships.
When we finally went outside, the sky had turned a luminous violet, with a flaming orange streak along the horizon. No land was visible — only dark, open sea and the churning white water left in the Gabriella’s wake. We bumped into Bäckman and Dahlman sitting and talking in the chilly demi-night. The four of us decided to check out the nightclub. A middling cover band was playing oldies, and we danced for a while, though I challenge anyone to find a groove in an up-tempo “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”
My husband called it a night, Dahlman excused herself for a moment, and Bäckman and I stepped up to the bar and ordered Arctic Blue gin and tonics. Just then, the band swung into a spot-on cover of Abba’s “Mamma Mia,” and the nightclub erupted into a giant singalong. Bäckman and I jived at the bar, belting the lyrics at the top of our lungs into air mics. Even the bartender joined in, singing and dancing as he popped blueberry garnishes into our drinks. With my night — and the trip — sealed, I went to bed.
In the morning, we woke to the sight of nearby islands and the craggy southern Finland coastline in the distance. My husband and I arrived bleary-eyed at the breakfast buffet, where, through the large windows, we saw that the sea had turned slate blue and a light rain had started to fall. A cheerful waiter approached with a bottle and asked, “Would you like to start with sparkling wine?” We declined, though many of our fellow passengers accepted. We were ready for Helsinki, but for them, it seemed, the party wasn’t quite over.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.