INTROONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE

MINNIE MOLTOK GOES ALL THE WAY AROUND THE ISLAND… A STORY FROM DENMARK

Page 8 Sat 18 Aug Ørding Strand – Nessund (Red course)


  • On raising the dinghy we discover that the soft grass had been hiding the tip of an iron rod, hammered there to tie a boat to, when there used to be fish. This is a job for the gaffer.

We left Ørding at around two o’clock, with an extra mainsail hoisted from the gaff-nock as a genoa. The wind was about 2 kn from whatever direction you like, obligingly changing direction as we did. Having rounded Sillerslev Øre, we watched a schooner by the Salling coast of Kaas Bredning. They probably have to have their sails hoisted to please their charter-guests and other spectators – their wind was blowing the wrong way.

Sail gives way to motor. This is probably the charter-schooner, Saga, trying to make a living.

At a quarter to four, off the former ferryman’s farm by Sillerslev, the wind picked up a bit, and by four-twenty, as we passed Sillerslev, we were sailing very satisfyingly with a mainsail on each side, whatever the official wind-direction may have been. Thus it continued through the whole length of the Nameless Winding Channel. Maybe the gods had decided that they’d let us have a following wind this time since they have for years always given us a headwind there, and that on occasions quite vicious. What luck we didn’t sail the other way!

 

Kås Bredning, Jegind Ø on the horizon. The navigator studies the chart. Sailing with two mainsails.

Approaching Munkholm Odde, the most northerly point of Thyholm, we saw shags on the reef. But on our coming closer, the shags took on a banana-shape and turned into seals, a skill I hadn’t before known they possess. The seal is a dog, forced into a banana-shaped rubberized bag, which is then pumped up with warm jelly. This makes it possible for the dog to lie on a bed of mussel-covered stones, awash with cold water, and look as if it’s comfortable.

At 19.30, just before Nes Øre, the gods got fed up with being nice and reverted to their usual ways.We quickly doused the extra main and sent the jib up as the wind increased and came round to the north. Usually we sail round Dover Mølle Grund by the south, but this may just be a bad habit borne of keelboating. There should be enough water north of the shoal for a keelboat, too, but we usually follow the official line, however now we went north and could make a tack up toward the ferry staithe on the Thy side then cross over Nessund to the beach under the hot-dog stand by 20.00. We must have timed the ringing-for-transport well, because we hadn’t even managed to buy a hot-dog before the transport arrived.
23 km in 6 hours: 3.8 km/h or 2 kn. Mustn’t grumble.


INTROONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE


INTROONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE

MINNIE MOLTOK GOES ALL THE WAY AROUND THE ISLAND… A STORY FROM DENMARK

Page 8 Sat 18 Aug Ørding Strand – Nessund (Red course)


  • On raising the dinghy we discover that the soft grass had been hiding the tip of an iron rod, hammered there to tie a boat to, when there used to be fish. This is a job for the gaffer.

We left Ørding at around two o’clock, with an extra mainsail hoisted from the gaff-nock as a genoa. The wind was about 2 kn from whatever direction you like, obligingly changing direction as we did. Having rounded Sillerslev Øre, we watched a schooner by the Salling coast of Kaas Bredning. They probably have to have their sails hoisted to please their charter-guests and other spectators – their wind was blowing the wrong way.

Sail gives way to motor. This is probably the charter-schooner, Saga, trying to make a living.

At a quarter to four, off the former ferryman’s farm by Sillerslev, the wind picked up a bit, and by four-twenty, as we passed Sillerslev, we were sailing very satisfyingly with a mainsail on each side, whatever the official wind-direction may have been. Thus it continued through the whole length of the Nameless Winding Channel. Maybe the gods had decided that they’d let us have a following wind this time since they have for years always given us a headwind there, and that on occasions quite vicious. What luck we didn’t sail the other way!

 

Kås Bredning, Jegind Ø on the horizon. The navigator studies the chart. Sailing with two mainsails.

Approaching Munkholm Odde, the most northerly point of Thyholm, we saw shags on the reef. But on our coming closer, the shags took on a banana-shape and turned into seals, a skill I hadn’t before known they possess. The seal is a dog, forced into a banana-shaped rubberized bag, which is then pumped up with warm jelly. This makes it possible for the dog to lie on a bed of mussel-covered stones, awash with cold water, and look as if it’s comfortable.

At 19.30, just before Nes Øre, the gods got fed up with being nice and reverted to their usual ways.We quickly doused the extra main and sent the jib up as the wind increased and came round to the north. Usually we sail round Dover Mølle Grund by the south, but this may just be a bad habit borne of keelboating. There should be enough water north of the shoal for a keelboat, too, but we usually follow the official line, however now we went north and could make a tack up toward the ferry staithe on the Thy side then cross over Nessund to the beach under the hot-dog stand by 20.00. We must have timed the ringing-for-transport well, because we hadn’t even managed to buy a hot-dog before the transport arrived.
23 km in 6 hours: 3.8 km/h or 2 kn. Mustn’t grumble.


INTROONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE


INTROONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE

MINNIE MOLTOK GOES ALL THE WAY AROUND THE ISLAND… A STORY FROM DENMARK

Page 8 Sat 18 Aug Ørding Strand – Nessund (Red course)


  • On raising the dinghy we discover that the soft grass had been hiding the tip of an iron rod, hammered there to tie a boat to, when there used to be fish. This is a job for the gaffer.

We left Ørding at around two o’clock, with an extra mainsail hoisted from the gaff-nock as a genoa. The wind was about 2 kn from whatever direction you like, obligingly changing direction as we did. Having rounded Sillerslev Øre, we watched a schooner by the Salling coast of Kaas Bredning. They probably have to have their sails hoisted to please their charter-guests and other spectators – their wind was blowing the wrong way.

Sail gives way to motor. This is probably the charter-schooner, Saga, trying to make a living.

At a quarter to four, off the former ferryman’s farm by Sillerslev, the wind picked up a bit, and by four-twenty, as we passed Sillerslev, we were sailing very satisfyingly with a mainsail on each side, whatever the official wind-direction may have been. Thus it continued through the whole length of the Nameless Winding Channel. Maybe the gods had decided that they’d let us have a following wind this time since they have for years always given us a headwind there, and that on occasions quite vicious. What luck we didn’t sail the other way!

 

Kås Bredning, Jegind Ø on the horizon. The navigator studies the chart. Sailing with two mainsails.

Approaching Munkholm Odde, the most northerly point of Thyholm, we saw shags on the reef. But on our coming closer, the shags took on a banana-shape and turned into seals, a skill I hadn’t before known they possess. The seal is a dog, forced into a banana-shaped rubberized bag, which is then pumped up with warm jelly. This makes it possible for the dog to lie on a bed of mussel-covered stones, awash with cold water, and look as if it’s comfortable.

At 19.30, just before Nes Øre, the gods got fed up with being nice and reverted to their usual ways.We quickly doused the extra main and sent the jib up as the wind increased and came round to the north. Usually we sail round Dover Mølle Grund by the south, but this may just be a bad habit borne of keelboating. There should be enough water north of the shoal for a keelboat, too, but we usually follow the official line, however now we went north and could make a tack up toward the ferry staithe on the Thy side then cross over Nessund to the beach under the hot-dog stand by 20.00. We must have timed the ringing-for-transport well, because we hadn’t even managed to buy a hot-dog before the transport arrived.
23 km in 6 hours: 3.8 km/h or 2 kn. Mustn’t grumble.


INTROONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE