Iceland review - 2014, Síða 64

62 ICELAND REVIEW
years. By 1782, there were 86 boats sail-
ing from Dunkerque to Iceland each year.
Fishermen from Gravelines joined them
in the early 1800s and in 1852 those from
Bretagne, further south, including from the
village of Paimpol.
France’s sizeable Roman Catholic popu-
lation, which could not eat meat for up to
153 days per year for religious reasons, cre-
ated a strong demand for fish as an alterna-
tive source of food. Despite the country’s
long coastline, fish was in short supply and
fishing closer to home, such as in the North
Sea and English Channel was not always
possible due to conflicts between France
and the U.K.
At the time, there were no limits on
fishing in Iceland, so the boats kept com-
ing—and right up to the shore, according
to local guide Berglind Agnarsdóttir. “They
were fishing so close that they were practi-
cally in people’s potato gardens,” she says.
To preserve the fish for the long journey
home, it was gutted, filleted, salted and
stored onboard. As there was limited stor-
age space, cargo ships from France arrived
periodically, emptying the haul to allow the
fishermen to continue.
Battling the elements
Life at sea was unimaginably difficult
with each season described as “a battle,”
recounts Annette Schaafhirt, a guide at
Fransmenn á Íslandi, a recently-renovated
museum dedicated to the history of the
French in Fáskrúðsfjörður. Each boat, mea-
suring 35-40 meters (114-131 feet) long,
7.5 meters (24 feet) wide and 3-5 meters
(3.8-16 feet) deep, was home to a crew
of 20 to 26 fishermen, the cabin boys as
young as ten years old (some sources say
as young as eight), for more than half the
year. Each bunk was shared between two
fishermen, who worked in shifts and took
turns sleeping. “They often didn’t bother
changing out of their wet clothes, knowing
that they’d be back on their feet three or
four hours later,” says Annette. The hard-
ships of life at sea took their toll and many
turned to alcohol to help pass the days, she
adds. Many of the men had partners back
in France, who prayed for their safe return.
Examples of correspondence between the
fishermen and their families are on display
at the museum.
“... always bad weather, snow, rain and
frost ... My arms have grown 10 centimeters
after being battered by the cold ... and I get
tossed around on this miserable ocean … But,
what can I do, dear Julia, it’s our job!” reads
one letter by Edmond Vroland on May
25, 1909, on display in the museum in
Fáskrúðsfjörður.
Tuberculosis was common and some
fishermen even suffered from frostbite.
French doctors and nurses were sent to
Iceland to work at a purpose-built hos-
pital, constructed by the French in 1904.
The hospital, which was recently renovated
and turned into a hotel, was the first in
Iceland and contained modern amenities
such as running water, flushing toilets and
electricity. A doctor’s house, morgue and
Catholic chapel to service the fishermen
were also built in Fáskrúðsfjörður. In order
to improve safety and provide assistance to
ships and their crews, the French navy sent
surveillance and hospital ships to Icelandic
waters. Some of these too ran aground or
sank.
The dangers of life at sea were all too
real but a calculated risk. The fishermen’s
salaries were dependent on how much fish
they caught, and if the season went real-
ly badly—on average they returned with
3-4,000 fish each—they would be in debt to
their owners. There was therefore immense
pressure for them to succeed, but if they
did, they could earn much higher sums
than if they stayed and worked in France.
Booming Business
As a result, the French fishing villages
thrived. In 1860, 6,000 people in Dunkerque
owed their livelihood to Icelandic fishing,
in a community of 84,000. It was esti-
mated that the value of the French catch off
Iceland during the six years from 1880 to
1886 totaled ISK 80 million, the equivalent
to the entire GDP of Iceland for 93 years.
It wasn’t just the French who benefited.
The locals stood to gain from the visitors,
too. The French brought with them bis-
cuits—which were highly popular given the
lack of wheat in Iceland—coffee, sugar, fruit,
vegetables, wine and brandy, while woolen
socks and gloves were among the items the
locals bartered. The fishermen also needed
food and other supplies, such as water, meat
and milk, and Fáskrúðsfjörður thrived with
the booming business. The locals antici-
pated their arrival each year. “People would
The cemetery in Fáskrúðsfjörður where some of the fishermen were buried, photographed now and in 1911.
History