Hardy Sorensen

Hardy Sorensen

Hardy Kaergaard Sorensen, known to his grandchildren (and many others) as ‘Bop’, passed away in his sleep, at home, in the early morning hours of January 6 of this year.

He had been in gradually declining health for some time and his loved ones – though pained to see him go and already missing his good company – are thankful that he was able to stay at home until the end. They know he would have been pleased to remain close to his hearth and pipe.

Hardy was predeceased by his wife Else Mosegaard Sorensen (nee Kjeldsen) in 1999. He leaves behind his daughters Lena, Ulla, and Helle and son Ole, as well as grandchildren Morten, Sara, Erin and Lindsay, great grandchildren Sebastian, Isobel, Ronan and Ileana … and many more loving family and friends.

Born November 7, 1927 in the small fishing town of Grenaa, Denmark, Hardy attended sea cadets as a youth and developed a passion for wooden boats and their history. He also left public school in his early teens to apprentice with a local wood craftsman, where he mastered the joinery and carpentry skills that would carry him to Greenland and then the New World (Kitimat, BC) and to a diversity of future projects – including carpentry jobs in Hawaii and Napa Valley, California, and even a gig working on Hollywood film sets in Barkerville.

Hardy’s lifelong interests in the ancient history of Denmark, paleontology, the occult and folk music each formed hobbies of armchair scholarship, and he enjoyed playing the concertina, accordion, banjo and guitar. His favourite song was ‘La Paloma’. He also maintained his love of nautical history and for years kept a Monk pleasure boat – named Freja, after the Norse goddess of love – at both Maple Bay and Genoa Bay marinas.

To honour Bop’s wishes for cremation and a burial at sea, his daughter Ulla Coulson and son in law David will host a celebration of life in the summer of 2017. Well wishers are invited to make donations to the Cowichan Wooden Boat Society in lieu of flowers, with many thanks.

The Unknown Shore

by Elizabeth Clark Hardy

Sometime at eve when the tide is low,

I shall slip my moorings and sail away,

With no response to a friendly hail,

In the silent hush of the twilight pale,

When the night stoops down to embrace the day

And the voices call in the water’s flow.

Sometime at eve when the tide is low,

I shall slip my moorings and sail away.

Through purple shadows that darkly trail

O’er the ebbing tide of the unknown sea,

And a ripple of waters to tell the tale

Of a lonely voyager, sailing away

To mystic isles, where at anchor lay

The craft of those who had sailed before

O’er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.

A few who have watched me sail away

Will miss my craft from the busy bay;

Some friendly barques were anchored near,

Some loving souls that my heart held dear

In silent sorrow will drop a tear;

But I shall have peacefully furled my sail

In mooring sheltered from the storm and gale,

And greeted friends who had sailed before

O’er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.

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