WIND AND SEA

WIND AND SEA

On the final day of our cruise, I awoke, got out of bed and skid across the floor.The ship wasn’t gently rocking. It was rock and rolling! I pulled open the drapes and viewed an extremely wavy sea.

I heard a knock at the door, and opened it for the steward who delivered my breakfast. He put the  tray on the table where it began to slide, but I caught my breakfast before it could hit the floor. The steward bounced off the wall twice as he exited. As I was eating, I heard an announcement from the Captain telling us that because of the high winds and choppy sea, that it would not be safe for us to enter the harbor at Grundarfjordur. Obviously, there would be no tour that day, no drive through little fishing villages, and no “short refreshing walk” on the pebbled beach. Also there would be no viewing of Kirkjufell considered to be one of the most beautiful mountains in Iceland.

What I had been most interested to learn about was the influence of the French in Iceland, since at the turn of the 18th Century, French fishing boats started arriving, and many of the population of 799 people in Grundarfjordur are descendants of those settlers. However, the weather prevented our arrival.

Consequently, it was a good time to start packing and preparing for our trip home. Throwing dirty clothes into a suitcase at the end of a trip is so much easier than choosing what to wear at the outset.

Some of the entertainers aboard ship did their entertaining thing. The male vocalist sang, and chased his mic around the floor when it tried to get away from him. The band played. The drummer turned green, and the audience members that weren’t in their staterooms tossing their cookies enjoyed the show.

Good sailors that we are, we had an early dinner with a view of the restaurant windows being washed by the waves.  Tomorrow we would be required to disembark from the ship at 8 a.m., but our plane back to Washington, D.C. was not scheduled to leave until 4:30 p.m., so we opted for a five-hour tour of Reykjavik to fill the time. That turned out to be an excellent decision!  

Next week:  Reykjavik-Airports-and Home

ISAFJORDUR

Hvernig hefur Ipu bad?  I was “perfectly fine,” Takk fyrir “Thank you,” until  I saw that the first step onto our tour bus was as high as my leg could reach, and we had not been offered a step-stool. So, I put my hiking boot foot high up on that step. Now, I was presented with the problem of getting the other foot up, and then pulling myself into the bus. I held onto the side rails and got my other foot up. Now, my legs were onto the bus entrance, but my arms weren’t strong enough to pull me up. I was stuck! Happily, my son, Josh lifts weights, so he pulled me into the bus, while my dear daughter-in-law, Barbara stood behind and gave me a little push. This time pushing your mother-in-law around was and extremely positive move.

I was prepared to visit the abandoned village of Hesteyri near Isafjordur. I had layered my clothes, wore my Gore-Tex rain-free jacket, had on my hiking boots and carried my trusty hiking stick. Unfortunately, I did not realize that I was going to experience a rough Marine Corps Basic Training course in one of the most remote areas in Iceland.

Our next test was to jump from the bus into a small boat that has come alongside. It was the only way to reach Hesteyri. By now, several fellow passengers took charge of me, and helped me jump onto the side of the little boat and sit down. Vinsamlegast (Please!) tell me that this is it! But, No! Next, we had to leap from the boat into an inflatable Zodiac which would take us to shore, where someone there pulled out a piece of wharf for us to step onto the black sanded beach.

In the distance we saw a very high hill with a few scattered, empty houses that had been abandoned in the 1950s, because the people couldn’t take living there anymore. I noticed that the sky was getting darker. Our trek began as we started to walk uphill on a one-person-at-a-time rocky path.  Josh walked ahead of me, with his arm available to help me navigate the wet path, and Barbara followed me in case I needed a boost.

As we walked higher and higher, periodically we would walk over some small wooden planks so we could avoid sloshing through small streams of water. Since I kept my eyes down concentrating on the path, I didn’t really look up until we reached the Island’s cemetery that boasted a handful of gravesites. Finally, I looked at the marshland that surrounded us, and at the Isles craggy mountainside, which in Norse mythology, was the home for Iceland’s remaining trolls. On one of the mountains there is a big, dark indentation which was rumored to be left by a huge Troll when he plopped down there. It is called, THE TROLL’S THRONE.”

Deciding not to be left at the cemetery, I continued with the others on our walk up the trail to view the beautiful Dynjandi Waterfall. The best part of the view was that we were going to end our 2 1/2 mile hike walking downhill.  It began to rain. We walked to a house where the owner spends his summer welcoming tourists with coffee and homemade pie—and playing his Hammer Dulcimer—an Icelandic instrument where the strings are not plucked but instead are hammered. The Dulcimer looked like a guitar cut in half, but the Icelandic tunes were beautiful.

After 30 minutes, our guide suggested we return to the beach and stand in the rain to wait for our Zodiac.  By now, it was raining a bit harder. So we stood, and stood, and stood  watching two little boys build a black sand castle on the beach. Keeping Icelandic time, the Zodiac finally arrived.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see the town of Isafjordur—population 2,600—where it is rumored that the local folk party away at the local pub on long winter nights, but I now do have the satisfaction of passing the Icelandic tour basic training challenge.

Esther Blumenfeld

AKUREYRI

We were scheduled for an early tour to drive from the pier to take a relaxing ninety-minute dip in the Myvatn Geothermal Nature Baths on Akureyri Island. Unfortunately, my digestive, internal system let me know that I was having too much fun, and  prevented me from joining Josh and Barbara on the early scheduled trip, so I stayed aboard, and looked forward to exploring the ship and taking a walk into town later that afternoon.

Akureyri is the second largest city in Iceland with a population of 19,000, and is near the Arctic Circle. However, strange as it seems, the town offers some of Iceland’s warmest weather and an ice-free harbor. Although the Vikings did touch down on the Island, the first written record of Akureyri was in 1562. In the late 19th Century Danish merchants settled the Island developing an agricultural society and adding the production of meat and wool products. They weren’t interested in fishing, but Norwegian settlers came and took advantage of the herring shoals that swam right next to the main street. Now Akureyri is one of the biggest fishing and fish processing centers in Iceland.

So, while Josh and Barbara took a dip in the Natural Hot Baths, I discovered that I was the only passenger left on the ship. Others, had taken advantage of the several offered tours. I wandered around the Ghost Ship until I heard six loud blasts from the ship’s horn, and an announcement, “Crew prepare for the drill.”  Then I heard, “This is a drill. There is a fire in the port engine. Go to your stations.” I returned to my cabin! A crew member, wearing a life vest, threw open my door, saw me and said, “Sorry, this is a drill. By the way, all of the elevators are locked.” After the drill, I once again began to wander, and took photos of the empty ship venues which was so much better than taking photos of a bunch of strangers.

I did a little soft-shoe dance on the theatre stage, and took a bow.  There was no applause. Then I returned to my cabin where the ship’s carpenter and two helpers were taking the lock apart on my cabin door because it didn’t close properly.  Thus, I entertained the three men in my cabin until the door was fixed. Time for lunch!  It was delightful being able to pick any table in the restaurant. I enjoyed the view of the sea as well as the lunch, and since I was the only person there, every waiter in the room came by to say ‘Hello.”

I then returned to the cabin to take a shower and get ready for my afternoon venture into town.  As I was showering, the lights went off momentarily. I guess it was the final check-up of the ship before the passengers returned. People were now coming back from their tours, and as soon as Josh and Barbara returned, Josh and I took off for our walk-about in Akureyri. We looked in the stores and at the woolen products. When the sweater label says, “Designed in Iceland,” it probably means sewn in China.  However, the authentic Icelandic sweaters are well marked. Josh had purchased one in a recommended store in Reykjavik where the owner had knitted the sweater herself. She took a photo of him wearing the sweater.  He is probably now a poster boy in Iceland advertising her beautiful work.

Josh’s favorite activity on our walk was purchasing an Iceland hotdog. Iceland is famous for their hotdogs.  I asked him what all those ingredients were that they put on the hotdog, and he replied, “I don’t know, but it smells good and is delicious. I didn’t ask but as long as  they didn’t put any fermented shark on there. That’s good enough for me.”

On to Isafjordur—My introduction to Marine Corps Basic Training.

Esther Blumenfeld

SEYDISFJORDUR

Sailing through the eleven mile-long  Seydisfjord, a narrow waterway surrounded by mountains, we arrived in Seydisfjordur, “the most picturesque town in Iceland.”Our 18-year-old guide met us for a walking tour of this quaint town that boasts 700 residents.

First we noticed seals  frolicking in a small lake at the entrance of the town, and then we passed brightly colored chalet-style wooden houses that had been built in 1848 by foreign merchants who had been attracted by the “Silver of the Sea” herring industry. The colorful houses were shipped from Norway in build-it-yourself kits—way before the modern IKEA stores were even imagined.

Seydisfjordur has attracted many artists from around the world, and there is a large artist colony that has settled there. We were told that since the town didn’t have enough money for street repair, the street bricks are painted in vibrant colors. The famous Blue Church not only has religious services, but also serves as a theatre and meeting hall. There is also a Center for the Visual Arts.

During WWII Seydisfjordur served as a base for British and American forces, but the only act of war was when three German warplanes tried to attack the El Grillo oil tanker. They missed their target, but one of the bombs exploded close enough to sink the ship which is still down there somewhere. El Grillo is now the name of a local lager beer.

Back to the ship for dinner and then a show featuring two Icelandic entertainers—a  talented male guitarist and a woman singer. Not only did they sing, but they also regaled us with stories. It was then that we experienced the droll Icelandic humor. The first story told was a true story about volcanic heat. “ In places, the heat in the earth can be hot enough to bake bread. All a person has to do is put a pan of dough into a small crevice and the bread will be baked.  Royals from England were going to visit Iceland and wanted to see this baked bread being taken out of the hot earth.  The man in charge said to his assistant, ‘We don’t have time to do this. Just go to the store, buy a loaf of bread. We can stick it into the crevice and they won’t know the difference. Just remember to remove the cellophane.’ The Royals came, and the bread was ceremoniously removed from the earth.  It was sliced.’”

Icelandic people have a tradition of prose and poetry, but they also tell gruesome ghost and goblin tales to their children. “Don’t complain about the fog, because ghost children will run between your legs and drive you crazy.” Of course in the U.S. you don’t need fog to have a bunch of unruly kids drive you nuts.

The songs were explained in English, but sung in Icelandic. It was lots of fun except no one in the audience knew if the song descriptions really matched what we heard. At the end of the show, the guitar player brought out a small can of fermented shark—a delicacy that I think someone extremely drunk would taste, because when he opened the can, the entire showroom stank worse than a high school gymnasium. Only one man, who developed a green complexion was able to say, “I tasted it.”

On to AKUREYRI  where I was supposed to…Oh, Well!

Esther Blumenfeld

HEIMAEY ISLAND

I awakened and opened the two sets of drapes as we sailed though the beautiful fiords. I viewed the mountains with their waterfalls and caves. It was another glorious cool day with no rain in sight. When we docked, we boarded a coach and drove into the Herjolfsdalur Valley with a beautiful view of the outer islands of the archipelago.

Our tour guide told us of the Vikings who had landed with slaves from Ireland, who came to a bloody end when they escaped to Heimaey Island. The first settlers then arrived in 900ad. We were then taken to a site of the largest colony of Atlantic Puffins who come to breed and feed. We saw them from a distance flying very fast and very wobbly, and then they kind-of nose dived into the ground at the side of a mountain when landing. Not too smart, but fun to watch. We were told that the baby Pufflings sometimes get confused when they see the lights of the town of Heimaey Iceland, and end up in people’s yards instead of the ocean. So, at night entire neighborhoods go out to collect the Pufflings and take the hundreds of little birds to the ocean.

Before going to the town of Heimaey  we saw Surtsey Island in the distance.  It is a newly formed volcanic island that rose out of the sea with an eruption from 1963-1967. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and is one of the newest volcanic islands on the planet. No one is allowed to go there because it is a natural laboratory, free from human interference, and gives scientists the opportunity to study the process of how plant and animal life colonize virgin land.

The town of Heimaey was considered volcanically dormant until January 23,1973 when the most famous volcanic eruption in modern times took place. A vast fissure burst open, and Eldfell Volcano emerged  from the sea swallowing much of the town. It turned the rest into a “modern day Pompeii.” 5000 inhabitants were evacuated by fishing boats.

Our guide told us that one woman begged the captain of a fishing boat to return, because she had forgotten something extremely valuable. She did have three children with her, but he thought it might be a fourth child so he turned around. She saved her new dress because “I might be invited to a party.”

The town folk, with the help of the fishermen saved the harbor by spraying the lava with sea water causing it to solidify and divert. The town of Heimaey now has 4500 residents, and is a popular tourist attraction, and they probably like to party.

Next we sail to Seydisfjordur

Esther Blumenfeld