We left Copenhagen on a fine Sunday morning,
sunny but still
chilly and heading south. The Baltic is very shallow reaching depths of only
100’ many miles from shore and we are often sailing in only 10 or 20 feet of
water. The consequence of this is that even a medium wind of 10 or 15 mph can
push up a nasty sea, not high but steep which is very unpleasant to sail into.
After a few hours of pleasant sailing we got just such a sea and after an hour
of very unpleasant lurching and pitching we beetled towards the nearest piece
of coastline to find sheltered water and motored the final couple of hours to
our destination on the east coast of Zealand. From there it was a short hop to
the island of Mon (no relation to that fine island off the north coast of
Wales). Finally summer has arrived in Denmark and we were treated to a fabulous
evening watching the swans around us.
It is quite hard to get your head around being surrounded by
ducks and swans which of course would not be there if the water was salty; the
Baltic is after all a big lake that is pretty much fresh water.
One look at
this lady got us thinking about a giant pan full of scrambled egg but she was
having none of it.
Beautiful green rolling scenery passed us by, everything
immaculately kept. Thatched cottages, flower decked gardens and some fine old
churches going back many hundreds of years. 
Identifying the milk we want when we get to a new country is always a problem. You would not believe how many different types of milk there are out there! In our early days in Denmark we ended up with soured milk on our cereal; who would buy soured milk?!
When we take the bikes ashore we put them in the dinghy and
motor ashore powered by a small 2 horsepower outboard given to me a few years
ago by a friend. It has been a superb little engine, totally reliable requiring
only one pull to start it even after being put into hibernation for the winter.
This year was no different; it started first time. However, after a hundred
yards or so it started to cough and splutter finally deciding that taking us
ashore was not a priority for the day. Another pull and off she went…. for
about 10 seconds, same result. Again, 5 seconds. There was a problem; the
symptoms were very much fuel starvation but fixing it would have to wait, we
had a bike ride to do so out came the paddles.
Back at the boat I laid the engine on its side and started
to strip it down to try and find the blockage. Having got the side off I
realised that there was no fuel leaking out of the air breather on the top of
the tank – there should have been because I forgot to close it before laying
the engine down….. How it got closed I
do not know but our problem was not a blockage, it was the inability of the
tank to breath as fuel was being used up because I had never opened the
breather valve in the first place. I felt suitably stupid!
The islands are joined together by many bridges, something
of a hazard for a yacht with a tall mast. The chart gives the clearance under
the bridge so I always know if we can get under or not. However, what about
when the clearance given is 20 metres and the top of my mast is 19.5 metres? In
theory you either fit or you don’t. At 20 metres I should fit but in fact water
levels can change even in an area of no tides because of changes in the
atmospheric pressure. There are a lot of expensive toys at the top of the mast
so I wasn’t taking any chances. The solution is simple. Drop anchor near the
bridge. Find a crewman who has no idea what he is in for, put him in a nappy with
a couple of harness rings on it whilst telling him what a wonderful view he
will get and hoic him to the top of your 60’ mast. Once at the top of said
mast, lift the anchor and motor nonchalantly on towards the bridge asking him
to shout if he hits his head on the bridge. 
It was looking pretty close...
Yes, that big grey thing above his head is the bridge, and that's me 60' below.
Happily for Gord, he didn’t hit his head so the mast was fine; he even enjoyed the view!
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