Seduction in Svendborg

In Svendborg City Marina

Svendborg had surprises waiting for us. As our Raymarine autopilot had burnt out just as we left Bagenkop, we started our stay by scrubbing the internet and asking other sailors in hopes of finding a mechanic who could help us repair this essential piece of equipment. But literally every technician we reached said something like: “We just started our vacation and won’t be back for four weeks.” We left more voicemails. “All my mechanics are on holiday for three to four weeks,” said Lars, in Aarhus, the second-largest city in Denmark. “Sorry,” said Torben in Svendborg, speaking over the background noise of breakfast dish washing. “I just started my vacation….” We could finish his sentence: “And you won’t be back for three to four weeks!” Turns out, every employee in Denmark is entitled to five weeks of paid vacation per year, according to the Danish Holiday Act. Plus, seven national holidays! No wonder Denmark is consistently rated one of the happiest countries on earth. And there’s more. In Faaborg around the summer solstice, celebrated June 22, shops were closed by noon. An unofficial half-holiday. Suffice it to say, Denmark takes vacationing very seriously. We shrugged, kept calling marine techs named “Hans,” “Jens,” or “Lars,” and asked harbormasters for recommendations.

Near the azul-green shore of the Baltic on Thurø...

But our hapless search for an autopilot mechanic didn’t get in the way of enjoying Svendborg. We snapped our folding bikes together and meandered along the shore to the cute island of Thurø. Wooden docks and the clear blue Baltic implored us to swim. I started to strip my clothes off and asked Gero if it would be OK to forego my bathing suit and jump in nude. “Of course it’s OK!” declared my beautiful husband. “This is Scandinavia!” We plunged into the crystal azul-green waters and swam around briskly, adjusting to the chilly temperatures. Stretching out (naked) under a white sun at the tip of a creaky wooden boat dock, we read our books and dozed like sunbathing seals.

Gero plunges off the pier into the Baltic.

Back on our two-wheelers, we rolled into Thurø Bryghus and stuffed our knapsacks with beers named “Tango with a Mango IPA,” “Cashmere,” and “Hops Don’t Lie!”

Thurø Bryghus was founded by the couple Gurli and Ask (pictured).

“Are you one of the brewers?” I asked the man behind the counter in the small shop. “I am the brewer, yes,” a young man with a dark beard replied, eyes sparkling. The brewery was founded in 2015 by a couple named “Gurli” and “Ask” in a former grocery store. Ask describes himself online as “a very productive home brewer whose hobby took over a bit.” “Ah! I see we got right to the top,” I said. “Or right to the bottom!” The young man quipped. In Denmark, the brewers, the waiters, even the grocery check out cashiers are happy.

Ambling along in Svendbord, our noses were tickled by the smells of baking bread every few blocks. Bakeries had names like “Bread Studio” and “The Gold Baker.”  We wanted to taste everything, but limited ourselves to sampling sourdough rolls and luscious dark loaves filled with grains and seeds.

Artist Tina Gjersen-Sav sets down her tools to greet us. Her studio was technically closed this day.

Leisurely winding our way through Svendborg’s cobblestone pedestrian alleys, we spied a goldsmith working in her shop. Gero said, “Do you want to go in, Beth?” We never walk into jewelry shops, but this occasion seemed different. Tina Gjersen-Sav, the artist, looked up from her work to greet us, brushing her hands clean. She explained that she shuttered her a business of jewelry repair just before the pandemic after suffering burnout. During the long isolation of COVID, Tina decided to find out what her heart wanted to create with metal and minerals. Hence, her workshop, Gjrersen Art Jewelry, was born. “I’m actually closed today,” she said from behind her slate eyeglass frames and a large chest-high work bench filled with tools, “I came into the shop to catch up on a few things before going on vacation tomorrow,” she explained (like everyone else!). Tina and her husband would be sailing, she said, like we were, around the Danish South Seas. The artist stepped out from behind her workbench to show us a few samples including double white gold ring crowned by a Tahitian pearl and a tiny grey diamond. She called the ring “Friends,” because the two gems speak to each other, she said. This beautiful creation spoke to us, too. “Friends” would become our wedding ring. Thank you, my sweet husband......

"Friends," a creation of Tina Gjersen-Sav.

Sailing along the coast of Thurø, Denmark