Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.02.2010, Side 8

8
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 01 — 2010
It’s 5:45am, Saturday morning. The
aftermath of a night of partying is
apparent while passing the streets of
downtown Reykjavík. A young man
who seems to have lost his coat strug-
gles to cross the street, finds his way
to the nearest doorway and proceeds to
vomit. We observe this, and we move
on without offering our help. We are
on a mission: to cover a day in the life
of Rescue Team Hafnarfjörður, one of
99 rescue teams currently operating in
Iceland.
THE BIG dAy OUT
We arrive at Rescue Team Haf-
narfjörður’s headquarters at six in the
morning. A handful of rescue workers
are buzzing about. Coffee is drunk,
teeth are brushed and warm, sensible
clothing is put on. Large backpacks
are filled with mountain rescue equip-
ment: compasses, first aid kits and the
like. One rescuer is still fast asleep on
the floor, wrapped tight in a sleeping
bag.
It is no ordinary day, at least not
for this team of rescuers. This sort of
training day is only done every other
year—rescue teams from around the
country participate in an entire day
of rehearsing and teambuilding. At
eight in the morning, the organisers
start handing out tasks to the different
teams over radio, telling them where
to go and what to do when they get
there. The tasks are all staged takes
on situations that might confront the
squads at any point; potential disasters
that victims need to be rescued from.
And when the rescue is done, they get
assigned new one.
There is not necessarily any time
to rest or gather one’s thoughts during
a disaster. This was demonstrated re-
peatedly throughout the day.
We sit, waiting for our instruc-
tions, pining for coffee. Out of the
blue, a call comes. The mountain res-
cue group – four young men named
Ásgeir, Bergur, Kolbeinn and Tómas
– is off to Grindavík for the day’s first
rescue mission. They scramble into an
enormous jeep with an ATV strapped
to the back. Before approaching the
site, the group pulls over to gear up.
Bergur hands over some helmets to
put on if we happen to be under a cliff
or if a helicopter should hover above.
The group sports their climbing gear,
with all the gadgets it involves. To get
pumped, they play some very loud mu-
sic over the car stereo. They are having
a blast, it appears.
MISTAKES yOU CAN MAKE
Their first mission is to rescue three
kids who have been climbing a cliff
near the ocean. One fell and is injured;
the other two are stuck on a ledge, too
afraid to move. They need to rescue
those prop-kids, stat!
We share conversation on our way
to the scene. “All real calls are ‘fun’ so
to speak, but the most important thing
is to get the people out safe,” Ásgeir
comments as we near our destination.
The most common type of call they
get is to assist tourists or travellers,
they tell me. Some fail to plan their
route, to tell anyone where they’re
headed and when they will return.
Such lack of foresight generally causes
trouble for the rescue squads, as the
travellers’ friends will inevitably get
worried and call for help when they
don’t hear from them after a while.
There are those who to think it’s a
good idea to cross rivers or travel off-
road in the highlands in their small
rental cars, getting stuck in the pro-
cess.
And then there are a few crazies
every now and again, folks who think
they can simply cross glaciers in their
sneakers and hoodies, no problem.
Many travellers simply underesti-
mate the weather. “The first mistake
is not to check the weather and to be ill
equipped for Icelandic conditions. The
second mistake is to travel without any
experience with this kind of terrain.
It’s usually just really silly mistakes
that people make,” Ásgeir explains.
On average there are 3–4 callouts
per day, all year round. Besides help-
ing out travellers, the rescue teams get
numerous calls to search for missing
persons, old people with Alzheimer’s
for instance. Of course they get very
busy during storms, avalanches,
f loods and earthquakes – sometimes
they’ll even cross the globe to adminis-
ter their expertise. You can read about
one of those trips in the accompanying
sidebar.
ALL WORK ANd NO PAy
Everyone working in the rescue squad
is a volunteer.
Each team is self sufficient; each
team raises funds, buys its equipment
and maintains it on their own accord.
Equipment such as jeeps, snowmo-
biles and boats. They raise the bulk of
their funds through selling fireworks
during the days before New Year’s
Eve. They also sell Christmas trees
and provide security at large events.
In addition they receive some funding
from the ICE-SAR headquarters – they
mainly get their money from the slot
machines found in Icelandic bars and
kiosks.
You would think that people would
enjoy something in return, what with
all that time and effort they put in. But
the rescuers just shrug at the notion –
according to them, the question of pay-
ment is actually not an issue at all. This
is tradition. Kolbeinn explains that for
most people it’s simply a hobby where
they get the opportunity to travel, get
educated and have access to some cool
equipment. It’s also a chance to give
back to one's community.
The system seems to work well, as
the members have been able to keep
up with global standards of profes-
sionalism. One should also note that
Iceland is a large island, with a scat-
tered population and vast rural areas.
The cost of having all 3.000 rescuers
on payroll would be enormous, way
too much for such a small population.
Yet when disaster strikes, such a large
number of trained rescuers is surely
needed.
You might also note that Iceland
has never had any local armed forces.
TIME FOR SOME ACTION
The sun rises as we arrive at our first
disaster site. We are joined there by
a rescue team from Akureyri. Soon,
those present gather in a circle to dis-
cuss the action plan. Around fifteen
rescue workers will be cooperating
on the task. Kolbeinn explains that
everyone on site has a specific role.
Mountains are on one side, the roar-
ing ocean on the other, and the three
faux victims are inbetween. It’s quite
the pickle.
There is a lot of assessing of the
area, fastening and securing of ropes
and communicating on walkie talk-
ies. They drill holes in rocks to build
anchors to tie the lines, they lay out
rubber mats over the edge so the lines
won’t snap. Before you know it, Ber-
gur is lowered down, reaches the ea-
ger kids and administers them some
much needed pretend-first aid.
Feature | Icelandic Rescue Teams
LOUISE PETERSSON
JULIA STAPLES
To The Rescue!
The scene resembles a construc-
tion site, with its complicated network
of ropes and folks attached to them.
There is some muttering about the
weather being too good to train in. Not
realistic enough. Not enough of a chal-
lenge.
After about an hour, the injured kid
is pulled up over the edge on a stretch-
er. Soon thereafter the other two fol-
low, accompanied by a rescue worker.
Mission: accomplished!
Bergur, looking anxious to move
on to the next rescue, thinks it went
well. “They were pulling us up a little
too fast, but in total we got the kids up
safely and in reasonable time,” he tells
me before skirting off.
THERE’S MORE TO IT
ICE-SAR is more than just a search
and rescue organisation. Rescue
teams, accident prevention squads and
youth divisions all operate under the
umbrella.
The Accident Prevention Depart-
ment is an increasingly important part
of ICE-SAR. There are around 40 ac-
tive groups in the organisation, groups
whose main goal is to prevent acci-
dents in their community. Tasks in-
volve safety education for children and
the elderly by giving lectures or dis-
tributing educational materials. Then
there is traffic, bicycle and mountain-
eering safety. Ironically, they also try
and educate the masses on firework
safety in the days leading up to New
Year’s Eve.
There are fifty youth groups work-
ing within ICE-SAR that will provide
essential fodder for future rescue
teams. Teenagers between the ages
of 14–18 learn and practice first aid,
mountaineering and search and res-
cue. ICE-SAR often gets its members
from the Icelandic Boy and Girl Scout
Association. When the youngsters
turn 18 they'll sometimes want to join
a rescue team and start heavier train-
ing. If you want to go on callouts, you’ll
have to complete 1–2 years of solid
training.
TO THE RESCUE!
For Rescue Team Hafnarfjörður, there
is no rest after their first task is com-
plete. The next one is just a couple
minutes drive away and the destina-
tion is a valley between high moun-
tains. A fictional bird hunter fell while
climbing the mountain in search of
some tasty ptarmigan, breaking a leg
in the process. A doll representing our
hunter friend has been placed on the
highest point and the idea is for rescue
teams and the Coast Guard helicopter
pilots’ to practice some co-operation.
Again, there is the gathering in a
circle at the site. One group will scale
the mountain by foot; the other will go
by helicopter. Tómas marks out a land-
ing spot in the valley with a smoke
bomb just as the helicopter appears
in the distance. It’s all kind of like an
action movie. Our friends Ásgeir, Ber-
gur, Kolbeinn and Tómas part; some
start walking towards the mountain
with determined steps, others duck-
ing into a helicopter. To the rescue!
“All real calls are ‘fun’
so to speak, but the most
important thing is to get
the people out safe.”
A day in the life of an Icelandic rescue team