The White Falcon - 10.07.1965, Blaðsíða 7

Saturday, July 10, 1965
WHITE FALCON
7
CjccH To tflaih (jate. . .
“Here we go again... .Doesn’t that Val-
geir Helgsson (circle) ever sit still?....”
The Marine sentry (L.Cpl. Dietor
Schneider) and Icelandic Policeman
(Bjorn Bjornsson) are busy on this side,
so...
“Oops! How did they get into the act?..
Navy Rides Herd
by Gene Taylor, JOC
Icelandic sheep have a way of getting on your skin— or under it.
If you’re a farmer, they’re a welcome bundle of wool, meat on the table.
But if you’re a pilot getting ready to touch down at Keflavik International Airport—
well, sheep are fascinating critters, to be sure, but they don’t belong on the runway.
Nobody can blame a shaky pilot for demanding a shotgun after zooming within a
whisker of a sheep’s tail. And it’s1^
small consolation to be told that
the wooly creatures are getting
scarce at the airport.
Even so, pilots ought to thank
the Naval Station’s Public Works
department for keeping a lot of
fresh mutton out of propellers
and jets.
When an angry voice from the
control tower shouts that sheep
are littering up the runway, some-
body from Public Works is apt
to say, “Hold your horses.”
Meaning, of course, the “possee”
is on its way.
Sure enough (shades of the
Ponderosa!), a horse and rider
comes galloping out of nowhere,
thundering hooves ‘n’ all. The
horse clippety-clops onto the run-
way. Ahead of horse and rider,
a dog sprints for all he’s worth.
He circles and turns the sheep.
The dog is a sheep dog, the
horse an Icelandic horse.
The rider? He’s a sheepherder.
He and another young Icelander
are hired by the U.S. Navy to
roundup and corral sheep on the
Naval Station. They draw their
pay from the Public Works de-
partment.
The sheepherders are Valgeir
Helgsson, 28, and Olafur Gunnars-
son, 23, of nearby Njardvik.
LOADED FOR SHEEP — Sheep-
herder Olafur Gunnarsson shows
off his prized Icelandic horses,
Raudur (mounted) and Lysingur.
Cradled in Olafur’s arms is Toby,
his ten-month-old sheepdog. Toby
is a mite shy of cameras, but he’s
a terror with sheep.
(Photo by Tom Streeter, J03)
They’ve been riding horses since
they were big enough to climb
onto one. Valgeir has raced horses
in Reykjavik.
Between the two of them, they
own 10 horses—five each. They
keep four for sheepherding in
Njardvik, six in Hafnir, just a
rock’s throw away. They rent the
horses in Hafnir to horsemen and
would-be horsemen, including
courageous Americans who like
to keep their backs in shape.
Kjartan Jonsson, quarterman
of the Public Works’ general ser-
vices branch, supervises the sheep-
herders. Jonsson, who has worked
on the base for 11 years, reports
to Lt. Edward H. Hubei, USN,
Public Works’ maintenance and
utilities officer.
This is the first year that the
young Icelanders have sheep-
herded on the Naval Station. Both
are signed to an hourly wage con-
tract, offered by the Navy each
spring for competitive bidding.
Icelandic sheepherders have pat-
rolled the Base since 1960.
The contract states that the
sheepherder is responsible for
“rounding up and taking to a
corral.... all sheep found within
the perimeter fence surrounding
Keflavik International Airport,
and making minor repairs in the
perimeter fence. .. . ”
The contract further states that
the sheepherder “shall furnish and
maintain a well trained riding
horse, a sheepherding dog and
saddle bag for carrying tools and
wire.... and perform his duties
in all types of weather.”
Because sheep are not turned
loose by farmers until spring, the
contract covers only the summer
months, from May 15 to Septem-
ber 15.
Valgeir estimates that about
1,200 sheep are on the loose, ru-
minating on the grass-scant lava
land and hills bordering the air-
port. And when sheep reach the
proper vantage point on some vol-
canic hill, the airport looks like
a veritable oasis.
Green—ah, crisp, tender lawns.
Luxuriant the shrubbery and bril-
liant the flowers, planted with
care by the Officers Wives’ Club.
Why, even sheep know that the
grass is always greener on the
other side of the fence.
Down and up to the airport
they march, under fences, through
fences, and boldly past gates
landic Police. The Marines can’t
stop them and the IP’s won’t even
try; after all, they aren’t sheep-
herders.
This is where Valgeir and
Olafur come in. They’ve got to
saddle up and head ’em out. But
first they’ve got to cut 'em off
at the runway. And they usually
do.
When they do, the sheep are
herded back through the main
gate or the gate to Sandgerdi.
Sometimes the sheep are loaded
on trucks and hauled some dis-
tance from the airport. On one
occasion they hauled 10 sheep to
Krysuvik, located about 36 miles
southeast of Keflavik.
It could be that sheep aren’t
so different from people. Valgeir
and Olafur say they keep rounding
up “continual violators.” Many
sheep keep coming back every
day.
How can they tell the sheep
apart? They wouldn’t say.
Some sheep will also play hide-
and-seek with them. When caught
red-handed, the sheep will tiptoe
or slither between buildings or lay
prone behind low-lying objects
and shrubbery.
Valgeir and Olafur, who round-
up an average of eight sheep a
day, patrol the airport six days
a week. On Sunday, sailors in the
Public Works duty section take
over. Nope, the sailors don’t have
horses, but they have horsepower.
One Sunday not too long ago,
the sailors got a frantic call from
the control tower. They leaped
into trucks and wasted no time
showing the sheep the gates.
It takes the sheepherders five
hours to make a riding tour of
the base. Almost always the rou-
tine is the same.
They begin the day by checking
the runway area first, then the
Sandgerdi and main gates. Later
they ride to the Turner gate, to
the storage tanks area, and on
past the Njardvik and main gates.
What do the horses eat while
they’re on the base?
“Grass,” said the sheepherders,
without blinking an eye.
And when the horses get
thirsty?
“We water them at the taxicab
stations.’
“Near the parked taxi’s?”
“Of course.”
That explains the horse laugh
when you hand the taxi driver 20
“Another bad day at the airport!”
Strays
TRANSPORTATION CUTBACK??—After renegade sheep went thata-
way, Lt Edward H. Hubei of Public Works mounted up with Naval Sta-
tion sheepherders to give chase. The sheepherders are (1 to r) Olafur
Gunnarsson and Valgeir Helgsson of Njardvik. Lieutenant Hubei didn’t
get further than the Radio & TV Station. (Somebody stole his horse).
(Photo by Tom Streeter, J03)
guarded by U.S. Marines and Ice- 1 kroner.
SHOW TIME—Somebody told these sheep there was a super western
playing at the Andrews, so they decided to take the lambs to the
matinee. They didn’t go in. Bad show. Besides there was a sheepherder
on their tail. (Photo by Gene Taylor, JOC)
TOO LATE TO HIDE—Caught trespassing on the Naval Station, an
Icelandic sheep sizes up his predicament. His confederate (circle)
thought it best to lay low for awhile. (Photo by Gene Taylor, JOC)