Diplomatic incident

Basalt columns at Hofsós

We were fairly tired after our exertions in Tumavík. Not because of the walk, but the Zodiac experience and probably not having had enough to eat.

We watched the briefing for our next couple of days in our cabin. It’s hard to get a grip around trips in advance, when you haven’t completed that day’s trip. However, I think we cracked it that disembarkation was 8am the next day.

Given that we were going to be disembarking again yesterday evening for Raufarhöfn, at about 19.45, trekking to the Arctic Henge and back on the ship by 22.30, Nick was stressing that he’d not get enough beauty sleep. This is one area Nick does not struggle with a bit. He can easily (and regularly does) sleep three more hours a night than I do, so I’m personally struggling with his concerns on this one.

Dinner was ordered to be taken in our room as we felt there was going to be a bit of a bun-fight last night as there were only two dining options and less time for everyone to eat.

We were going to be Guinea pigs again as we understood that, yet again, this stop was a first for a cruise ship. As the Silversea expedition ships have the Zodiacs already onboard, it’s much easier for them to down anchor and as long as the conditions are conducive for a safe disembarkation, we’re providing tourism for some very small communities.

It didn’t take us long to get to Raufarhöfn and to say it looked like competition surfing conditions was something of an understatement. At that point we were enjoying our early dinner in our room. And then the dulcet tones of Werner, our expedition leader came over the tannoy. As soon as he drew breath, we knew it was bad news. The expedition team had assessed the conditions and couldn’t even get the Zodiacs off the ship and into the water. The swell was six feet high and although the harbour of Raufarhöfn is enclosed, we had to get there first. So, with great sadness, this stop had to be cancelled. Even as we were anchored, the waves smacking into the side of the ship were making everything judder.

As a consolation prize, we were all invited to the Panorama Lounge at 10pm to celebrate  crossing the Arctic Circle.

In the Panorama Lounge

It involved drink, so of course we went. Florandy entertained us with his singing and piano playing, which was so perfect I kept thinking he’d stopped and they had reverted to a sound system. Somehow, having gone out for a swift ‘alf (ok, so really it was a glass of Champers), we ended up having a little bit more and stumbled back to our room at 11.30, being pretty much the last ones left standing. It was still light and of course we both want to carry on partying. It took a massive amount of will power to actually force ourselves to go to bed.

What feels like moments later, the alarm is going off and we’re in the daily round of showers, breakfast in our room, (my stomach is actually rumbling this morning) and layering up. I start opening the balcony door a little too early for Nick who complains about the arctic blasts. It’s a sweltering 8 degrees I remind him, yes but with the northern wind, it feels like 3 degrees. There’s snow on top of hills which don’t look particularly high. All the swell of yesterday was long gone and flat calm was the order of the day. Bliss.

There then ensued a near diplomatic incident on our Zodiac. The pilot on our boat asked us if anyone knew why the Canadian and US flags were flying next to the Icelandic flag. Quick as a flash, an American quipped that Canada and Iceland were the 51st and 52nd state. The lady throwing such insults around was met with boos, sharpe intakes of breath and an avalanche of criticism. We didn’t need to launch in too much as there were some Canadians on the Zodiac who put her well and truly in her place. The lady in question reckoned she was joking. Yeah right. If there was a hole for her to dig, it would have been a large one.

So we found out shortly after said near diplomatic incident, that the reason for the Canadian and US flags was due to the volume of Icelandics who emigrated in 1875 after Mount Askja erupted. Roughly 25% of Icelanders left Iceland to find a better life in Canada or the US.

We had a guided tour around Hofsós. Our guide, Tina from Denmark, kept on referring to Hofsós as a city. However, to us it was barely a village, especially when you understand that we had doubled the population for the day as there are roughly 200 residents.

We were shown around traditional tar covered houses which have now been turned into museums depicting the story of the mass emigration. We read so many stories, but one story struck us both and that was regarding a couple whose only child died on board the ship. The parents concealed her death until they reached land, because if they had let her death be known, she would have to be thrown over board.

We heard stories of generations splitting, with some generations leaving Iceland for a better life and others staying. Both generations knowing they’ll never see each other again.

Salt cod and other fishy delicacies

We were able to try the local delicacy of shark meat. Tina was not impressed with it and said she’d tried it once, but didn’t like it. We’d had a hearty breakfast and the thought of eating fish at that early point in the day wasn’t at all appealing.

Tina told us how she’d struggled with the wind when she moved to Iceland. She said at the time, her daughter was just over two and was toddling but got knocked over by the wind. She said she has to be careful where to park her car as the wind will take the door off the car.

Only fools rush in

Some of us more intrepid explorers ventured down a fairly steep, rickety series of wooden steps with a rope for a rail with stacks of signs warning us we did this at our own risk. We were rewarded with stunning basalt columns and views over the fjord, Skagafjörður.

What was strange was that Tina wasn’t a resident of Hofsós, so couldn’t answer any of our questions relating to the village. I don’t know if they didn’t have anyone suitable to show us around or if it was just our group who didn’t have a local. Hofsós had a school, a doctor’s, a small grocery store, a filling station (with one pump), a tiny church but then incongruously, a public swimming baths donated by two local ladies with a view overlooking the fjord, Skagafjörður.

A view of basalt columns in the bay

After a buffet lunch (no wine for us as we knew we had to negotiate Zodiacs in the afternoon), we had a bit of a breather before heading off again for a coastal tour around Drangey Island. At 180 metres high, it is a lasting remnant of a 700,000 year old volcano. Naturally, as with all other islands in Iceland, birds have found their nesting place and this is the attraction for our afternoon’s tour on the Zodiac.

As contrasts happen, with the sun finally coming out, we found ourselves shedding layers. The base layers were no longer needed, but we knew we still needed to keep warm (and dry, now that we see the speed of the changing weather) for our trip. We actually had the balcony door open as we reached the dizzying heights of 9 degrees, plus we were being protected from the wind. However, watching folks go out on the Zodiacs, they are, quite rightly dressed for rain.

We did a 90 minute tour, spotting Kittiwakes, Puffins, Guillemots, Razorbills. And what a phenomenal racket they all made. At times it was hard to hear our pilot Nico, impart all his geological and marine life knowledge. We saw a couple of seals and then one of the guests shouted and pointed out a whale. We all got incredibly excited until Nico told us it was a rock and what we were seeing was the water breaking over the rock. It looked very whaley and it was only when he explained what was happening, that I was finally convinced it was, sadly, only a rock.

The afternoon was another sensory overload session of facts, figures, sights and sounds.

Birds in every nook and cranny

From our position in the sea, we could see the zigzagging precarious path created for those brave enough to climb this island. No, 180 metres isn’t a huge ascent, but when you’re going up vertiginous rope ladders and narrow paths, it looks like something only a crazy person would do. Isy, Norm and Amy sprang to mind when we saw the occasional dot that was a person taking this route up the island.

Created by volcanic action and ash

And so, as pilot tradition dictates, we bounced back to the ship at high speed with water sloshing into the Zodiac. We got back to our cabin exhausted. Again.