Living a Life of Leisure in Læsø

We left the marina in Aalborg at 8:30 a.m. on Thursday morning (June 18) and, after passing through the raised spans of the two bridges there, continued east and out of the Limfjord, en route to the island of Læsø, which many people have recommended to us. The sailing was lovely under sunny skies. For a while, we were averaging 9 to 10 knots.

The Garmin display showing 10.2 knots of speed

A little after 5 p.m., we arrived at Vesterø Havn and the harbormaster was there to direct us to a place to tie up and took the lines. We have gotten used to not reserving ahead for a place, as we would in the U.S. Usually, no one answers the phone and there are no replies to emails nor any response on VHF radio. We have learned to just show up and look for the spaces with green placards indicating that the space is open for visitors and have become relaxed with this quite workable situation. (Of course, we are here slightly ahead of the season; I do not know what happens when the northern Europeans start their holidays.) Payment is made via a cell phone payment method, and the bathroom, showers and laundry rooms are always spotlessly clean.

After we settled in, we took a walk around the town and along a bit of the northern beach. Then we had a pricy but wonderful all-you-can-eat-and-drink buffet dinner at one of the few hotels overlooking the marina. The staff were very friendly, and one of the cooks insisted on making me a couple veggie burgers (without the bun) and many pieces of falafel despite the fact that there were wonderful and tasty salads and vegetable selections. Frankly, I am rather tired to these two options, which are often the only veggie choices at restaurants here. It's fish or meat, and while a salad may come on the entree plate, it is not on the menu as a separate item.

Roses on the dunes at the edge of the beach

Peter on our evening walk on the beach

But, back to Læsø, which I have decided is a perfect vacation spot. It is the largest island in the Kattegat Sea, a body of water I had never heard of before. The Baltic Sea drains into this sea between northeast Denmark and southwest Sweden through the Danish Straits. Another sea north of here is the Skagerrak, which connects with the North Sea. The majority of the Kattegat has a depth of less than 25 meters, and there are many sandy, stony reefs and tricky shifting currents, but we had no problems navigating here.

Læsø is in the Danish "desert belt," which consists of this island and the island of Anholt to the southeast. Annual precipitation is 31 inches, so it is relatively rainy compared to a true desert, which receives less than 10 inches a year. However, rain and snowfall are markedly less than the mainland areas surrounding the Kattegat Sea. Along with a few small nearby uninhabited islands, Læsø is just 44 square miles. The year-round population is about 1700, so it is a quiet place with a few small towns but most houses in open or wooded areas. It is a vacation place, but the largest of the few hotels are only two stories high. There are many bed-and-breakfast establishments and campgrounds for guests to the island.

Læsø is a young, dynamic island that emerged from the sea rough 4.900 years ago due to post-glacial land uplift. New beach ridges and sand spits are continuously expanding, particularly in the east and the southwest. Under the water are massive, unusual glacial boulders, some of which were pulled up by early inhabitants for building material.

In the Middle Ages, the island was known for its salt industry, and, on an artisanal level, salt is still extracted from the groundwater for commercial purposes today. Læsø's subsoil consists of a layer of blue clay up to 180 meters thick; above that is a layer of sand between 3 and 15 meters thick. Winter storms flood the flats with seawater. The underlying clay prevents the water from seeping away, so the groundwater in certain areas has up to 15% salinity. Cistercian monks started salt-making sometime in the 12 century. After the Danish Reformation in 1536, when the church land was taken by the Crown, it became a cottage industry on family farms.

A salt-making farm museum was one of the first places we visited after renting electric bikes (a first for us) in the town of Vesterø Havn. We rode to the main town on the island, Byrum, along well-paved bike paths and roads with infrequent traffic. First we stopped at one of the two red-painted brick and stone churches on Læsø. This church was founded in 1200 by monks from Viskøl Monastery on the mainland. The current building started as a chapel in 1269, with extensive Romanesque and Gothic additions in the 1700s and 1800s. The interior has vaulted ceilings, which like the walls, are whitewashed. Decorations consist of the altarpiece, the pulpit and a triptych.

It is surrounded by the usual large, extremely well-maintained cemetery. As we learned in Ireland a few years ago, the regularly spaced square holes in the outer walls of the tower are left from where scaffolding was placed during construction. Birds love to nest in these perfect alcoves. The walls of this church and the one in Vesterø have been traditionally painted red as marks for seafarers. Because the island is flat and low-lying and in winter is covered in snow, the red beacons warn navigators of its existence. Nonetheless, in Medieval times and later, about 12 ships a year wrecked on the reefs and in the shallow water, providing the islanders an opportunity to take payment for saving lives and to plunder the wrecks. They often used parts of the ships in their own houses and charged the stranded sailors for lodging until they could leave.

Tower of the Bynum Church

Bynum Church and Cemetery

Interior of Bynum Church, with organist playing

Altarpiece of Bynum Church

Once again, I went off on a tangent. The salt works that we visited after the church is part outdoor museum and part actual manufacturing in progress. It is free to walk around the grounds and see and learn about the centuries old process of extracting salt from groundwater. The stoves are fueled by wood; by the 17th century, the forests had been totally destroyed. In 1652, an official ban on salt boiling was put in place, which lasted for over 300 years. Læsø had become a windswept heathland. 

Boiling water and baskets of salt

Baskets of salt and salt encrustations on the outside of the vat

Exterior of one of the salt-making buildings

On our bicycles, we passed by but did not climb (because we had so much to see) the 17-meter high tower built in 1926 by Thorvald Hansen. a clog maker, tinsmith, bicycle repairman and former sailor. In his youth, he had been able to see the entire island from the small hill, but houses and trees blocked his view in the 1920s. So, he hand-molded the bricks himself and constructed the building without assistance to regain the view. He became the tower keeper and charged a modest fee.

Thorvald Hansen Tower

Our next stop was the Læsø Museumsgården, housed in an old farm house surrounding a courtyard. It is one of only about 3 dozen houses left on the island with a thick and heavy "seaweed" roof, known as tangtag houses; there were around 230 in the 1930s. Of the remaining houses, 11 are officially protected. The oldest was built in the 1650s; the last existing one to be built in this tradition is from the 1870s. This vernacular style of architecture was prompted by the deforestation connected with salt production. Although the coverings are called seaweed roofs, they are actually made of eelgrass washed up on the southern sandy beaches. The roofs can weigh 35-40 tons and reach a thickness of 5 feet (1.5 meters). They provide excellent insulation; are resistant to pests, rot and fire, mainly because of their salt content; and can withstand harsh weather.

Exterior of house with roof made of eelgrass

On Læsø, thr women innovated the unique roofing method, using their knowledge of spinning and weaving to create bundles of wrung eelgrass. Long eel grass was dried and laid out on the ground. Then several women worked to twist the strands into long bundles with ever increasing diameters, up to a foot and a half, with a tapering end or tail that was used to tie the long bundle to the laths between rafters.  Construction of a house was a collective undertaking, usually involving 40 to 50 people; it started after enough eelgrass and wood (mostly driftwood or timbers from shipwrecks) had been collected and prepared. The men actually put the bundles on the roof; it would have been inappropriate for the women in the their skirts to possibly expose the lower parts of their bodies by climbing on top of the structure! 

However, women ruled--or at least did all the work. Men went to sea for long periods of time as fishermen, leaving the women in charge. The women owned the property and cultivated the land. Since women rarely left the island and therefore did learn of agricultural innovations in Scandinavia, they used simple methods with traditional tools--the heath cutter, the peat spade and the Læsø spade--and the furrows were hand sown. 

The men did not help with the farming even when they were home from sea in the winters. Their work consisted of carpentry and watching for possible groundings near the island, which represented a profitable supplement to the economy of the harsh island. Even when the men were home, the women leveled and plowed the fields, sowed the seeds, harvested the crops, looked after the animals, cut heather, dug peat and drove the horse-drawn carriage

After the museum attendant told us much about the house and the history of the island, we walked around inside of the house, which dates back to the 17th century. The roofing on some parts of the building is nearly 400 years old, dated by pine seeds embedded in the eelgrass. The living quarters are on the north side of the courtyard and include space--including a parlor, a pantry, and scullery and and a kitchen--for the owners and their children and a separate, similar space for the older generation (the pensioners) who had previously owned the property and who the new owners (descendants usually) are required to provided with lodging, food, fuel and care as part of the transfer of title. 

The other three sides of the quadrangle are made up of pigpens, goose pens, a storage room for heather and peat (for fuel), a horse stable, a hayloft, a fodder bay, a sheep cot, a cow shed, separate storage rooms for rye, oats and barley, a barn for threshing, and a coach house. A farm cart that was used for many purposes, including hauling eelgrass from the beach was in the coach house. I noticed that the wooden, iron-rimmed wheels were concave toward the hub. Later I researched this and discovered that,in loose, sandy soil, this design was particularly advantageous because it shifted the stress load away from the axles and naturally directed abrasive debris outward, away from the carriage body.  

Underside of the eelgrass roof showing the tapered tails tied to laths

Wagon used for transporting eelgrass from the seashore

Living area which includes a bed for guests and a spinning wheel

Parlor for entertaining guests and for special occasions. The board below the ceiling is a wedding board.

Loom of the last owner in the pensioner's room (placed after her death)

Last owner's brother's workshop in the former pensioner's living room

The courtyard

After we had spend some time at the museum, we pedaled onward passed cultivated fields and a few small woodlands to Østerby Havn in the northeast end of the island. This harbor was developed in 1905 and reoriented the area from agriculture to professional fishing. It is famous for its scampi (Nephrops norvegicus), also known as Norway lobster, a small and slender lobster known for its sweet and delicate meat. We stopped for a very late lunch (or early dinner), having only been sustained since omelets for breakfast by an ice cream snack at the salt works. (I was starting to get hangry.)

Fishing nets drying on the wharf with fishing boats moored to the wall

Peter by the large scampi sculpture in Østerby Havn

After our meal, we walked around the the harbor and then headed back to Vesterø Havn, stopping briefly at a small rhododendron grove.

Rhododendrons in bloom

My battery indicator on my bike indicated I still had over 75% left while Peter's was down to 25%. Luckily, peddling across the island from east to west, we made it to the bike rental shop just as his was warning his battery was almost depleted. We were tired but had enjoyed a wonderful warm and sunny day exploring and learning about the island and its culture. 

After showers and no dinner (because we ate at 5 p.m.), we looked at the weather for the next day and decided it was too unsettled, with possible thunderstorms, for us to move on to Skagen, We went to bed at sunset (early for us) and looked forward to another day on the island.

We woke up to another day of sunshine and temperatures hot enough for light-weight pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt. After a lazy morning on the boat, we went out for a walk. We were strolling through the town and found a sandy path which led over the grass and brush covered dunes to the shallow water and beaches on the south shore, with their fine sand (the kind that squeaks under your feet). On on beach walk, we encountered only a few other people.

The crystal clear water is shallow for a long way. It was low tide, so it was possible to wade through the water parallel to the shore some distance from where it touched the sand without any wavelets. In some places, there were exposed sand bars. With the strong sunlight unobstructed by any clouds, the tiny wave patterns laid down in the sand were illuminated in relief. In some places near the shore, where water ran out from the land in small, diked streams, the texture and orange-red color of clay overlaid the pale sand. 

Past the shallow water, the sea graduated through several shades of blue as it stretches to the horizon. We strolled and waded for for more than a mile and still were quite far from the western point of land visible in the distance. Noticing rain clouds on the western horizon, we turned around and walked along the beach all the way to the yacht haven. Before going to the boat, we stopped for some delicious ice cream. It was actually ice cream weather! And the rain passed by offshore.

Sherri part-way out over the shallow water

View looking toward Vesterø Havn

Patterns in the sand under one inch of water

Small shells on the beach

Red clay deposits to which algae and grasses cling

View across the shallow water with the ferry in the distance

I waded out farther than Peter, well above my knees for a short stretch, so my rolled-up pants got wet. They were dry by the time we came aboard, but a bit salty, so I changed into shorts and a short-sleeve t-shirt--and the summer solstice did not occur until today! Peter and I played a game of Scrabble, lounged around some more, and did minor tasks before going to bed. We were happy we had postponed our departure because we would have missed the lovely beach experience.

We departed this morning around 11 a.m., heading to Skagen. The WNW wind at about 20 knots most of the time and the strong NE current both worked against our progress, and we finally were forced to motor-sail to the northern most tip of Denmark, arriving at 5 p.m. We had been invited by a man we had met in Reykjavik last summer to dock at the Skagen Sailing Club and attend the St. John's Eve celebration, which has been held for over a hundred years on June 23, a day celebrated through northern Europe with bonfires, speeches and music on the beaches. Because June 24 was the date of the summer solstice on the Roman calendar, St. John's Eve festivities are closely associated with midsummer activities throughout Europe. Skagen hosts one of the largest.

There will be more about Skagen in the next post.