Iceland review - 2013, Qupperneq 33

ICELAND REVIEW 31
guillemots are hunted; their dark meat considered a real treat. The
community’s economy, however, depends on fishing with most of its
adult male population working as fishermen and 12 islanders being
employed full time by Sigurbjörn, on its fishing vessels and at the salt
fish processing—a large share of the 76 people who live on Grímsey
year-round.
The island is also populated by some 200 sheep, roaming freely—
sometimes dangerously close to the bird cliffs—in summer, with
the lambs ending up on local dinner plates in the autumn. The
largest part of the herd is owned by Svafar’s brother Bjarni, his wife
Rannveig Vilhjálmsdóttir, her brother Þór Vilhjálmsson and his wife
Stella Gunnarsdóttir, who also happens to be Svafar and Bjarni’s
cousin. However, it was never the couple’s ambition to become
sheep farmers. They were helping out a friend, Gunnar Stefán
Ásgrímsson, who owned most of the island’s herd. In early 2008
Gunnar was diagnosed with cancer and he died one month later,
at 53, just before the lambing season. “It was a huge shock and we
couldn’t think of having all the sheep put down. So we took over,”
says Rannveig. With Bjarni being out at sea most of the time and
Rannveig filling in at the control tower of the Grímsey airport,
working part-time in fish processing and at Básar, the guesthouse
they run, they consider sheep farming more of a hobby. They’re
also raising four children, are aspiring riding horse breeders and
active members of the local Women’s Association and Kiwanis Club.
“There’s never a dull moment,” smiles Bjarni.
iSlAnd liFE
In the late 1990s and early 2000s a number of
young island locals returned to make a life for
their families there, including Bjarni, Svafar
and Stella, which contributed to the average
age of Grímsey inhabitants dropping to only
about 25. And even with the average age hav-
ing increased to 37 since then, the population
remains young. “For the first time since 2001,
three local women were pregnant at the same
time,” Rannveig points out. There is no health-
care on Grímsey, though. A physician makes
regular visits but in case of emergency, people
have to be flown to hospital on the mainland by
plane, or if it’s too foggy—as is often the case—
by the Coast Guard helicopter. Older people
who require medical attention must move to the
mainland and pregnant women have to travel
to Akureyri some time before their due date.
“I always pass my due date,” reveals Rannveig.
“When I was pregnant with my fourth child
people kept asking whether I wasn’t about to
leave but I didn’t want to fly to Akureyri too
much time in advance. You can’t imagine what
CULTURE
konráð follows two other fishing boats to the fertile
fishing grounds around the island at 4:30 am.
The highest point of the grímsey sea cliffs, teeming with birdlife.