THE EASTERN FJORDS

The Vesta was late in arrival, and as the taking in of cargo occupied several hours, we did not get away from Husavik till the afternoon; we then headed straight for the Arctic Circle, passing the island of Lundey on the way out of Skjalfandi. When we entered within the Arctic Circle in the evening, the atmospheric conditions and the temperature were in keeping with our position on the earth's surface, for it was cold and bleak, and the night promised to be a dirty one; but the weather during the night was not so bad after all, and when I awoke in the morning it was to find the sunshine streaming into my cabin through the open port.

At Vopnafjord we remained from early morning till late at night. We climbed the hills at the back of the town and made our way over towards Nypsfjord. From an elevated spot we obtained a view looking into that fjord. It was not a scene of striking beauty, but I was interested to see that the entrance to the inner fjord was narrowed considerably by a spit that extended well into it, perhaps two-thirds across. This had been formed, as usual, by the sea beating in and banking up the detritus brought down by the river, the VestradalsÁ. Up there on the rises I succeeded in stalking some sheep and in photographing them. I had tried several times before, but had always failed. Nearly all the sheep in Iceland are horned, while most of the cattle are without horns. There were several things of interest in Vopnafjord that I photographed—the interior of a cod-fish store being one of them; another was the home of "Socrates," a notification to that effect being prominent on the front of the house. There were several stores on a point near the middle of the town, and in front of them there were about a dozen fish-drying grids lying on the slope of the beach. Here at Vopnafjord we found the people to be most curious regarding us and our movements. It was Sunday, and having nothing to do, they displayed to the fullest extent the Icelander's worst characteristic, that of staring hard and persistently.

In the afternoon while cargo was being taken in, a little mild excitement was caused by the capsizing of nine bales of wool into the water, and by their subsequent rescue from drifting out to sea by a boat that went in pursuit.

Before departing from Vopnafjord we had an invasion of Icelanders. They came on board, boatloads at a time; the smoking-room was soon full of them, and there were crowds on deck. I was writing in a recess just above the companion-way to the saloon; small crowds descended by it to the regions below and did not reappear—goodness knows where they managed to stow themselves. A fellow-passenger came up from a visit to his cabin and informed me that he had stumbled over two of the Icelanders, who had taken possession of his cabin. Helvit!—to use the mild Icelandic swear-word—what about mine? I went down to see what was going on in my cabin, and returned on deck breathing more freely (in two ways!), for I found that my cabin companion had early taken possession and had so far kept out all invaders, in spite of repeated attacks upon his stronghold. The atmosphere below was becoming quite oppressive, and one could almost have cut out a chunk of it!—hence, as I have stated, I breathed more freely on deck. But it occurred to me that if I took possession of my own bunk, I could help my companion in resisting future attacks of the enemy; so I went down again.

"There's a cry and a shout, and a deuce of a rout" going on generally, for we had arrived at Seythisfjord, and the invading horde was preparing to leave the vessel—it had come to take part in the ceremony of unveiling a monument that was to be performed that day, and to enjoy the subsequent festivities and gaieties. The trampling of feet above informed me that the natives were congregating round the companion-ladder. I shoved my head through the port-hole, and there, but a few yards off, were two or three boats. One was just pulling away very fully laden, another was loading up with passengers, and a third awaiting its turn to take on its human cargo. I went to my tub, and so, for a few minutes, escaped from the noise.

During breakfast I listened to the tales of woe as related by my fellow-passengers. One had had four of the natives camped in his cabin. In the morning they severally made use of his sponge and soap in performing their ablutions, while his tooth-brush only just escaped service. Whatever of his effects were lying loose about his cabin were subjected to inspection and examination: a bottle of "Elliman's" was uncorked and smelt, and the Icelanders seemed inclined to taste, but in their discretion refrained; had they but tested its virtues, they would no doubt have found it a most excellent pick-me-up. After performing his own toilet he went on deck, but on returning to his cabin a few minutes later, found two women in possession, and busy at his wash-basin. My fellow-passenger was a man who did not object to cleanliness in a general way, but for the native Icelander, both sexes, to take possession of his cabin and make use of his toilet things, was too much for his nerves. If he did not take a leaf out of the Icelanders' book and make use of their swear-word, Helvit! it was only because he was a clergyman; but I have no doubt that he thought that and much more of a similar kind!

Another passenger reported that he had lost one of his native companions in a very extraordinary way. I must state that some of the Icelanders have the disgusting habit of spitting in all sorts of places, and they are not, as a rule, particular where—to them the whole world is a spittoon! This passenger stated that he had found a big Icelander in his cabin the night before, who remarked that he was going to sleep there, and immediately afterwards made some noisy throaty sounds, inquiring where he could spit. On being informed that it was not customary for anybody to spit anywhere in a cabin, and that there was no place where he could do so, he looked surprised and expressed himself to that effect. Much to this passenger's relief, the Icelander then took himself off from the cabin, and was seen there no more. No doubt the native had found some spot where he was able to indulge his habit to his heart's content.

I went ashore after breakfast, and landed just in time to see a procession of Icelanders and others. The occasion was the unveiling of a memorial stone that had been erected by the inhabitants of Seythisfjord and the surrounding country to the memory of a Norwegian, one Otto Andreas Wathue, who died in 1898. This man had been instrumental in making Seythisfjord a place of considerable importance, and its prosperity was due entirely to him.

The ceremony had drawn to Seythisfjord all the notabilities of the neighbourhood, as well as others from the near fjords, and a few from such distant places as Akureyri; it had also drawn thither two Danish men-of-war, and there were in port three vessels belonging to the United Steamship Company: the Ceres, the Vesta, and another. Some of the chief of the officers from the war-ships attended in their official capacity, while others from the Company's three vessels also attended the ceremony; several joined in the procession, which started from the veiled monument at the head of the fjord near the heart of the town. The Norwegian, Wathue, had lived on the south side of the fjord in a large house about a mile from the monument, and there the widow still lived. The procession made its way along the road by the side of the fjord, and then passed the house, where everybody saluted the widow, who, with her relatives and a few friends, was a spectator from an elevated grass plat. I was standing just beside the house taking snap-shots. My picture shows the head of the procession: some of the leading figures may be seen in the act of saluting the party assembled on the grass in front of the house. The procession halted a short distance beyond, and then returned to the starting-point at the monument, round which the members of it congregated. The ceremony of unveiling was performed after some speechifying had been got through and several poems, composed by Icelandic poets for the occasion, had been recited or sung. Those assembled then adjourned to the fÊte ground on the other side of the river, where dancing and running and other athletic sports were carried on during the rest of the day, and where fireworks were displayed in the evening. I took several photographs on the outskirts of the crowd round the monument while the ceremony of unveiling was going on; in them are two young women attired in the national costume. One is dressed in white and the other in a dark dress, but both have on the peculiar national state headdress.

We called at Northfjord in the early morning, and after less than an hour there, set sail for Eskefjord, arriving there just before breakfast-time. Though we remained for several hours, I did not get ashore, for there was so much uncertainty about the time of departure that we might have started at any moment; there was also the usual difficulty of getting a boat.

Faskruthsfjord is a very picturesque place; bold and peculiarly shaped mountains are all around. A liparite and tuff mountain on the southern side is noticeable chiefly for the inclined strata that lie upon its southern slopes. Behind the town a huge pyramid (a fine example of the result of denudation) towers high above. Faskruthsfjord is the chief resort of the French fishermen who carry on their avocation on the coast of Iceland, and though there are a few Icelanders in the settlement, yet the greater number are French.

During the latter part of the voyage we had a passenger, an Englishwoman, lying dangerously ill. The doctor from ashore, an Icelander, came on board here to see her, as other doctors had at other ports of call; but he did not go away decently as the others had—no, he remained on board drinking and smoking, and talking at the top of his voice, with a number of men from shore, the carousal being carried on just outside the cabin-door of his patient! A specimen of the customs of the country as observed by at least one Icelander!

Our last port of call in Iceland was in Berufjord, where we arrived at about six in the morning. As it was rainy and misty, I could not well judge of the scenery. It looked an interesting place, and there were several sharp conical peaks showing dimly through the thick atmosphere. We put to sea about an hour later, in weather that promised to be blowy, and the promise was fulfilled, for we were soon in a fairly heavy sea, which increased as the day wore on; it continued bad until we approached the Faroes next day, when it cleared up, and we had bright, fine weather while amongst those islands.

We obtained excellent views of the various headlands at the north end of the Faroes; it was noticeable that all had perpendicular precipices facing the north, where the sea is continually at work eroding their bases. We passed through Kalsofjord, the channel between the island of Kalso on the west and those of Kuno and Bordo on the east. The islands have many corries, soft dykes, and mountains of pyramidal shape. There are several villages most picturesquely situated in the valleys and corries, but as we steamed along in mid channel we were not near enough for the camera to be of service.

We reached Thorshavn in the early afternoon, so I went ashore for an hour to have another look at the picturesque town and at the Faroese. In the evening we set sail for Leith.