Reykjavík Grapevine - 31.07.2015, Side 38

Whale
38 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 11 — 2015TRAVEL
How to get there: Fly to Húsavík and head to the harbourHúsavík
ÞÓRSHÖFN
VOPNAFJÖRÐUR
GRÍMSEY
ÍSAFJÖRÐUR
AKUREYRI
EGILSSTAÐIR
REYKJAVÍK
I recently trekked up north to Húsavík
to go on its maiden voyage. The town,
which is known as the whale watch-
ing capital of the Iceland, is nestled
between the lupine-blanketed flanks
of Húsavíkurfjall mountain to the east,
and the cragged mountain faces, icy
winds, and rough waters of Skjálfandi
bay to the north, west, and south. It's
not quite the first place you'd imagine
as the setting for such technological
advancement.
The landscape is reminiscent of
two distinct vistas apposed—the pas-
toralia of the Irish countryside, and the
dark, foreboding mountains of Seward,
Alaska. The collision of the two, how-
ever, proved far more interesting than
either alone. Sure it was chilly, and the
sheep looked at you funny—but there
was plenty to stare at (while wishing
you had a better camera).

Environmentalist convictions
I had a good chunk of time before the
ship was set to sail, so I sat down for
some strong Icelandic coffee at Gamli
Baukur, Norðursigling's dark and
woody harbour-side restaurant. Out
the window I could see the two masts
of Ópal. The ship was nothing like I had
imagined. It's an interesting combina-
tion—that a 150-year-old sailing tech-
nique turns out to be optimal for utiliz-
ing natural power.
“We like to be the pioneers,” said
Árni Sigurbjarnason, one of the found-
ers of Norðursigling and a leader in the
current electric vessel project, “to show
environmental responsibility.” Árni
characterized Norðursigling's twenty-
year history of working with old boats
as an act of recycling, in a sense. In the
past, ships were usually just burned
when out of commission—even when
there were possibilities for renovation
and rebranding.
The message of the project is clear:
we are all visitors in nature, and we
should be able to experience it without
disturbing or damaging it. To uphold
and maintain these environmentalist
convictions, Árni believes, is the major
challenge for the Icelandic tourist in-
dustry today.
When do they break the
champagne bottle?
After coffee (and a hot dog from the
hot dog stand by the dock, and then a
second hotdog from the same stand),
I commingled with the elite guests on
the dock, crammed alongside a group
of tourists who had queued to board a
different, non-electric vessel.
Employees of Norðursigling carried
long, wooden platters crowded with
finger sandwiches, sushi, various dip-
ping sauces, chicken on a stick, and
desserts-in-miniature up through the
crowd and up the gangway, arranging
them across the centre of the ship. A
few confused, hungry, rain-slickered
tourists tried to board Ópal, but were
denied entry. Didn't they know the PM
of Iceland was to be in attendance!?
How gauche. You had to be on the ap-
proved guest list—you know, to keep
Words Sam Wright Fairbanks
Photos Art Bicnick
With two massive masts, tightly furled sails, and an array
of ropes and pulleys, Ópal appears to be straight out of
the past. But beneath its oaken deck lies a prototype eco-
friendly engine, the first upgrade of its kind for Iceland's
fleet of tourist vehicles: the “Regenerative Plug-In Hybrid
Propulsion System.”
Watching
With
Sigmundur
Davíð