Galärvarv Cemetery

The cemetery fence separates off the site of the old Galärvarvet, where a squadron of the Army Fleet wintered. Long, shallow-draft vessels traveled under sail and by oar, while on shore they were repaired, equipped, and prepared for campaigns. From seventeen forty-two, dead sailors and craftsmen were buried near their place of service rather than being taken across the whole city. The anchors and rudders on neighboring stones recall the work of those whose names often did not survive the archives.

An old stock anchor lies on a black granite slab. The inscription calls the people buried here unnamed people from Vasa: three hundred thirty-three years after the ship sank, they were brought back from the water and given their final resting place here.

When the remains were buried, there was still no permanent museum nearby. This land was chosen because of its former purpose. From seventeen twenty-two, a galley squadron of the Army Fleet wintered on the present-day museum grounds. Galleys—long, shallow-draft warships—sailed under sail and by oar. In seventeen forty-two, a cemetery for the squadron's people was established inside the dockyard. That is where the name comes from: Galärvarv Cemetery.

Later burial records list people who lived by naval service and their trades: sailors, carpenters, block makers, gunsmiths, skippers, and officers. Many risked their lives on campaigns; others repaired and equipped vessels here on the shore. Those who died were not taken through the city: they were left near their place of service. Full records were only started in eighteen thirty-six, so the names of many earlier dead disappeared. The naval ranks on the stones, anchors, and images of rudders mark a profession here, not decoration.

The remains found inside the raised Vasa were examined in nineteen sixty-three by the osteologist Nils-Gustaf Gejvall. He separated the mixed bones among twelve people and designated each one with a letter. According to the conclusion at the time, there were ten men and two women before him. After the analysis, it was decided to give the remains a Christian burial. On the tenth of August, the anniversary of the wreck, the bones were placed in separate sealed bags inside concrete coffins at a depth of about two meters. A slab and an anchor raised near the sunken ship were laid above them.

Twenty-six years later, the osteologist Ebba Düring was assigned to study all the recovered dead together. For this, the grave was opened. The intended protection had failed: water had entered, mold had grown on the bones, and part of the material had deteriorated. Düring first had to clean and dry the remains, and only then determine these people's ages, injuries, and state of health.

She gave one set of bones the provisional name Johan. Leg injuries and a long coat of fine wool set this person apart from ordinary sailors. The researchers cautiously connected him with Captain Hans Jonsson—the only person who died on Vasa whose name has survived in the documents. The sea was Captain Hans Jonsson's profession, yet the old captain had been invited as a guest on the new ship's first voyage. The chance to learn this story came after people reopened the grave here.

On the slab beneath the anchor, the dead are still called unnamed. In museum research beyond the cemetery wall, they are recorded as Adam, Beata, Johan, and other provisionally named people.