By V.E.K.Madhushani, Jadetimes News
A Seaside Haven Where Fishermen and Surfers Thrive Together
By the age of 33, Mai Knudsen had achieved considerable success as a civil engineer. Despite this, she felt unfulfilled. "Work was so stressful," she said. "I was spending my weekends doing nothing just to cope before going back on Monday. I felt my life should be different."
A visit to the town of Klitmøller in north west Denmark changed everything for her. She left her high pressure life in Copenhagen for a seaside home with a view of dunes and surf, transforming the first floor into the pancake café she had always dreamed of owning. Ten years later, in the old fishing village now known as "Cold Hawaii," Knudsen runs Kesses Hus for half the year and closes the shop to surf during the off season. "I knew I could really live here," she said.
Knudsen is part of Cold Hawaii's growing community of transplants, many of whom have traded skyscrapers and traffic for a slower, seaside lifestyle. Denmark's once sleepy north west coast is now alive with galleries, boutiques, organic bakeries, and a co working space many of them opened by newcomers from over 20 countries. Post Covid, more young professionals from places like South Africa, Brazil, Australia, and Germany have relocated here to work remotely and raise their children. This diverse group includes doctors, lawyers, and even the renowned Danish artist Jeppe Hein, who now volunteers at local schools teaching children to express themselves through art.
"You're forced to slow down. There isn't a lot here, so if you want art, you make it yourself. If you want pancakes, you make them yourself," said Knudsen. "That part hasn't changed. It's still the mentality of the fishermen who've lived here the longest."
I, too, fell in love with Cold Hawaii last autumn, despite a rough introduction to its surfing scene. North east and southern winds create swells year round, making it a prime spot for surfing, often referred to as Europe's best.
"My job is to teach people from all over the world to surf, to be on the ocean, and to guide them to find themselves again," said my surf instructor Vahine Itchner. Originally from Tahiti, she moved to Klitmøller 15 years ago and now owns Cold Hawaii Surf Camp with her Israeli husband. "It feels like we're on a holiday."
Walking along the waterfront, I passed chatty, barefoot 20 somethings with salty hair and shortboards still strapped to their ankles. The classic scenes of fishing boats trawling in the harbour alone could convince anyone to stay. Even more enticing, though, is the unique cultural blend of fishermen and surfers who have united to rejuvenate their community.
When surfers began arriving in the 1980s, Klitmøller was nearly deserted. Once a vibrant fishing village and a major trading port between Denmark and Norway, the town's fortunes declined after the port was moved to nearby Hanstholm Harbour in 1967. Businesses closed, and many families left. "There were very few of us left," said Preben Toft Holler, an angler from one of Klitmøller's multigenerational families of fishermen.
The town's fate changed in the 1980s when a German windsurfer, Christian Dach, discovered Klitmøller's waves and spread the word. By 1994, the area was dubbed "like Hawaii, just colder," attracting surfers worldwide. However, the town was unprepared for the influx of young surfers who contributed little economically and disrupted the local way of life.
Toft Holler, along with other local leaders, formed a committee in 1997 to attract new residents and rebuild the town. In 2005, Rasmus Johnsen, a philosophy degree holder and surfer, took over the initiative. He helped the newcomers open surf schools and rental shops to contribute economically, hosted international surf competitions, and worked tirelessly to improve relations between surfers and fishermen.
"One of the big things that changed attitudes was when our grandchildren started to surf and a union was established for surfers to facilitate dialogue and community events," recalled Toft Holler, who now trains Denmark's new fishermen at North Sea College. Younger fishermen who had left for Hanstholm Harbour are returning to raise their families in Cold Hawaii.
Today, Cold Hawaii has grown to include the area from Hanstholm Harbour through Thy National Park to the town of Agger. The descendants of the original fishermen and merchant mariners are welcoming outsiders once again. "Even hundreds of years ago, people here weren't afraid of outsiders. Allowing foreigners meant business growth and wealth," said Knudsen.
The town is now a vibrant mix of traditional fishermen, surfers, and tourists. Klitmøller's surf club operates in an old lobster house, and a trendy sauna club on the beach was created by fishermen's wives. Seasonal parties, jazz concerts, and film screenings are held in repurposed stables.
"Over the past two decades, Cold Hawaii has been an inspiration for rural areas throughout Denmark," said Johnsen. The population has grown from 800 in 2000 to about 1,300, and tourism is booming. "The fishermen are very involved in everything here. We all like seeing it look nice down at the water. Everybody's really good at taking care of each other," added Knudsen.
After enjoying a savory galette at Kesses Hus, Knudsen and I climbed to her roof deck. "I named my café Kesses after the late shipbuilder who built this house in 1962," she told me. "If you buy a home here, you may own it, but it's not officially yours until you move away. It's our town's tradition."
Gazing out at the cobalt sea, I asked her when she thinks she might leave. "When I'm too old to make pancakes," she answered. "I'll be here forever."
