National Geographic : 1950 Nov
646 Carleton Mitchell Bornholm's Fishing Fleet Sleeps, but Wait Until the Herring Catch Comes In! Then graybeards, wives, and all the cotton-topped children assemble to meet the boats and clean the fish. These, when smoked a delicious brown, are called Bornholmers. Denmark's rocky Baltic island builds houses, churches, roads, and piers of granite and exports building stones (left) all over Europe. If a farmer cannot till his thin soil, he quarries its granite base (page 628). That night we crept behind the breakwater at the tiny fishing village of Torekov. Again we were in Sweden. Friendly hands took our lines to help us turn (page 641). Our last morning's sail began in one of the thickest fogs I had ever seen, and the first we had encountered on our cruise. As soon as the sky turned silver, both boats were under way, and we cautiously felt our way from buoy to buoy to the open Kattegat, where we could steer by compass. Within an hour the fog lifted and the wind gradually strengthened, again providing per fect sailing conditions on that last leg. The sea grew rough as we neared the light house of Nidingen. But our luck held. Nid ingen marks the beginning of the west-coast skerries. We cut into their shelter; the sea smoothed. Again we "walked in the garden." Ahead, that September afternoon, we saw G6teborg, peaceful in the fall sunshine. When we picked up our old mooring, our cruise was over except for shipment home. As I write this, Russia is requesting a sal vage base on Bornholm, Swedish fishing boats have been pursued, and a United States Navy plane has vanished into the sea we sailed so recently. These are waters that have witnessed much history and known many masters. The Baltic will not remain the "lake" of any nation. Men, even those now silenced, will dream again.