Iceland review - 2013, Qupperneq 32

30 ICELAND REVIEW
creetly leans over the gunwale to relieve himself
of his breakfast.
Konráð, a ten-ton fiberglass boat named after
Svafar’s deceased triplet brother, is the smallest
of the four-vessel fleet of Sigurbjörn, the com-
pany Svafar runs with the third triplet Bjarni
Gylfason, their father and two friends. Svafar and
Ingólfur balance with ease across the rolling deck
while hauling in cod, redfish and saithe fooled by
the rubber-covered hooks of the four automatic
hand lines. But today, pickings are slim and while
Ingólfur toils in his orange coveralls—“the best
thing about bringing the boy is that I can let
him do all the work,” Svafar jokes—he monitors
a screen showing the ocean floor and schools of
fish, relocating the boat as soon as they stop bit-
ing. Given the meager catch, Svafar is expecting
a long day. “I guess it’s like any other job: it’s fun
when everything’s going swell and boring when
there’s not much to do.” His mood brightens
a little when a massive 20 kg (44 lbs) cod is
hauled onto the deck. “I wouldn’t have to spend
many hours at sea if all the fish were that big,”
he comments.
in nAturE’S BoSom
Remaining within view of Grímsey, Konráð is surrounded by a flock
of fulmars, fighting for cutoffs and fish too small to sell on the mar-
ket. The birds do their best to fend off larger black-backed gulls and
great skuas. Guillemots and puffins flutter above the ocean surface
on the hunt for sandeels for their young, and elegant Arctic terns
hover almost completely still in the air until they spot a prey, diving
headlong into the sea. More impressive still are the whales. “There’s
a humpback,” points out Svafar, spotting geysers expelled from the
blowholes of the great whales in the far distance. Swimming closer,
the humps on their sleek black backs come into view and eventu-
ally their tails as they take another dive. “That’s 10,000 krónur [USD
80],” kids Svafar. “Isn’t that what they charge for whale watching?”
He could do without having them so close, though, as the great
whales compete with cod—his livelihood—for krill, he says, and
regularly get caught in nets and ruin fishing lines.
For centuries, the people of Grímsey have lived off nature’s
pantry. This is well reflected by the menu of Krían (‘The Arctic
Tern’), the island’s only restaurant, run by Svafar and his wife Unnur
Ingólfsdóttir. The most popular courses are the catch of the day,
puffin and whale. In the spring, islanders perform the hazardous
practice of lowering themselves down the vertical bird cliffs to
collect guillemot eggs, and risk attacks by Arctic terns by picking
eggs from their nests around the island. In late summer, puffins and
CULTURE
Local fisherman and fishing-vessel operator Svafar gylfason.