GROWING PLACES
and buried beneath a tweed ed flat cap with a woollen beanie perched on top, he grapples with a heavy wooden wheel, which we’re all encouraged to steer.
“I don’t have the fuel power to go far north, but I do offer something different,” he says, nose lifted to the wind. “I’m a practical person and I like to see how ideas can work together.”
The keystone of his game plan is sustainability in the Arctic, sailing wherever possible and carbon offsetting any necessary fuel usage.
Confident we have enough natural power to forge forward, he orders the deckhands – and passengers – to unfurl all 11 sails.
Tugging at a heavy rope, I help hoist Linden’s snow-white wings, which flutter like angels until, taut, they glide like a flock of albatross elegantly skimming the sea.
Having hurriedly secured ropes around wooden pins, we tidily wind any surplus into snakey coils on deck, while experienced sailors communicate through a language of intricate loops and knots.
Lungs fully inflated, Linden slices through gentle waves and eventually settles into a dreamy, slumbering breeze.
“When sailing, you start to feel the pace,” explains Rasmus, as we drift past a concertina of snowy ridges streaked by the mid-May sun.
“At first, you are fast with excitement and then you slow down; you move at the pace of the environment around you.”
Appreciating the calm before any storm, I seize an opportunity to climb the rigging to the crow’s nest.
I’m fully harnessed with a metal carabiner, although not once do I feel the need to clip it on. Instead, I hang from the tip of the mast surveying the deep blue around me, elated by the wind in my own sails.
Only news of lunch can lure me back down to deck : Delicate slices of rye bread decorated with edible flowers, served alongside beer bread made with Longyearbyen-brewed stout.
A gardener, fashion designer and taekwondo black belt, enigmatic Dane Dennis is also a wildly creative chef. Tomorrow, he promises us, we’ll be dining on a seaweed stew if we can gather enough juicy bladderwrack when going ashore.
In tune with Rasmus, he intends to serve a sustainable menu, foraging where possible, and trading with local trapper families stationed in Svalbard.
Even his shiny sealskin coat is eco-friendly, he argues ; once belonging to his grandfather, a naval officer, it’s tatty tears evidence years of good use.
Carrying just 12 guests, Linden doesn’t need to book landing sites, meaning itineraries can be flexible