Minnie Moltok goes all the way around the island. A story from Denmark
Page 3 Let the journey begin
West Norwegian horses grazing at Feggesund, looking east.
The island on the horizon in the centre is Liv; the low hump on the horizon between the first and second horse from the left, is the hill at Rnbjerg.
There remains to the northeast, between Mors and Himmerland, a 20 km by 20 km, shallow piece of water, the northern part called Lgstr Bredning, the southern, Liv Bredning (= “Broad,” for those familiar with E. Anglia, many of whose population’s forebears came from this area). Depths are mostly between 6 and 8 metres, and there are short, steep waves when it blows, and it blows A LOT here. Even the natives with thousands of years of getting used to it, think it too windy. There are about 25,000 of these natives on the island after thousands of years of procreation. In the forest-clad Mesolithic there was subsistence for 25 individuals of Homo sapiens. Those were the days. By 1800 there were hardly 25 trees left. Cutting the world’s human population by 99.9% would do wonders for the environment … Consider the geographic location of this island in connection with the pictures of smog in this story.
Sailing in European conditions – smog. Don’t venture out without your compass.
I should perhaps add that Mesolithic is “a town in Russia” to the good people of Thy and Salling. They know that the inhabitants of Mors (Morsingbo’s) are descended from the thieves and cut-throats marooned on the island in olden days by the good people of Thy and Salling. “The best thing about Mors,” they say, “is the view toward Thy (Salling).” They also say (with variations), “It takes two Morsingbos, a bundle of hay and an old ram, to equal one Sallingbo (Thybo).” I sit on the fence.
In the southeast, between the island and Salling, a peninsula on the mainland of Jutland, lies Salling Sund – “sund” = “sound” – connected with “swim,” from the days when the cattle-herding, central-asiatic speakers of proto-Germanic didn’t know what a boat was. Salling Sund used to be crossed by ferries. The western ferry staithe’s location (the staithe is gone now, except for the remains of stone moles on which the shags stand to dry, between wettings) is called The Plague, and the eastern is called The Torture. When the Salling Sund Bridge was built in 1978 it was said that Mors had now become “landfast” with Europe. Some people regretted the demise of the ferries, some didn’t. Now everybody races across in cars as though there weren’t a splendid view on either side. This is partly due to the fact that the wind on the bridge blew the cars about and it was necessary to retrofit baffles on each side. Now only those in higher vehicles can see the view – them and the suicides, who find the bridge an easier way out. The Sound is a kilometer-and a-quarter narrow at the bridge and between 11 m and 26 m deep. The condition of currents means that the suicides eventually turn up in Glyngre, having somehow passed the 26 m deep, but it takes time. The wind-generated current can reach 2 kn, the direction depending on the wind’s.
Salling Sund widens in the south into Ks Bredning. Where the two meet near Sillerslev there was also a ferry. Keeping course from Salling Sund across Ks Bredning brings one to Nissum Bredning, connecting to the North Sea. In the northwest, a sound between Jegind Island and Mors’ most southerly point, Hestr Odde, where there was yet another ferry, leads into the Nameless, Winding Channel, between low coasts, and open to all winds, which does its duty on the southwestern front to keep Mors an island.
To the west, the water between Mors and Thy varies in width from 1 km at Nessund in the south, to 5 km at Visby Bredning, from 8 km at Dragstrup Vig, to 500 m at Vilsund in the north. At Nessund is a ferry, at Vilsund a low bridge with a lifting section to let us through. This narrow waterway to the west of the island was formed as a river running under the ice during the last glaciation. During the Mesolithic, the low, wet valley between Doverkil, the inlet south of Doverodde, and Skibsted Fjord, was a narrow sound (See map.). This area is interesting in that the largest group of Bronze Age tumuli in Denmark is found here. There are also rare plants in the area, though many of them would have vanished, had the plan to drain Doverkil and the valley for agriculture been effectuated.
To the north of our Island is Thisted Bredning, 10 km by 6 km of blowy water, mostly 10 m deep. Its southern shore is the highland of northern Mors, which, though only between sixty and ninety metres in height, has its own weather. Fossilized sea-urchins by the thousand are washed up on the shore of Thisted Bredning from the chalk, and everybody living in the area is plagued by the possession of too many of them. It has been known for people to walk on the beach with lifted eyes to avoid having to see yet another fossilized sea-urchin. Local boys do a valuable service in selling them to German tourists. Thisted Bredning shelves and narrows toward the northeast, as, past Skarrehage, it becomes Fegge Sund.
Thisted Bredning – TheRed Hog Thisted Bredning in a blow, and a rock called The Red Hog. This rock was thrown by another heathen giant, who lived in Sennels, at Sejerslev church on Mors, which also had a damned bell. His other rocks missed and this one fell short. Giants don’t seem to have been very good at anything, which must be why they died out.
Feggesund, looking south from Thy. Note the pound-net to catch the non-existent fish. Feggeklit is at the end of the net.
The sound, Feggesund, with its 750 m breadth and 18 m depth, protects the good inhabitants of Hanns from the thieves and cut-throats on Mors. Skarre is a corruption of Skarv(-e), which means “cormorant or shag” – when it isn’t despisingly called “eel-crow.” There are many eel-crows nowadays since they became protected. They and the seals eat fish, which annoys fishermen. There are few fishable local fish because of pollution from farming (Danish Bacon, tinned ham, Carlsberg, etc.) and the popular “Western Lifestyle.” The water looks OK, mostly, apart from the red algae – no brown scum. But we know it’s there.