The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.1979, Side 19

THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
17
SIGURHLIF
by G. Bertha Johnson
(Continued from the Autumn Issue)
THE AUTHOR
Gudbjorg Bertha
Johnson was horn and
grew up in the Swan
River Valley. There she
received her elementary
and high school educa-
tion. then attended
Normal School to re-
ceive a Manitoba First
Class teacher’s certifi-
cate. She taught both in Manitoba and
Saskatchewan, and attended the University
of Saskatchewan to acquire a Standard
Certificate in that province.
Her husband is Bodvar Johnson. He was
born and grew up near Lundar, Manitoba,
where he fished on Lake Manitoba and
played violin in a dance orchestra. After
moving to Northern Manitoba, he fished
many northern lakes, including Reindeer
Lake, where he both fished and freighted his
catch on his tractor train 250 miles to the
railway at Flin Flon. Later he fished Sissi-
puk Lake until his retirement six years ago.
They have resided in Flin Flon since 1944.
Her father was Jonas Danielson from
Borgum at Skogarstrond in Snaefelsnes-
sysla, Iceland. Her mother was Johanna
Johannsdottir from Laxardal, at Skogar-
strond in Snaefelsnessysla. They first
settled in North Dakota. She is their only
Canadian-born child.
+ ♦ ♦
Resume of first installment:
Christmas Day in 1887, Jonas and
Johanna, with their children, Hannah,
Juliana, and Sigurhlif s, rode their Iceland
ponies to the church for Sigurhlif s christen-
ing. There Johanna met her beloved sister,
Karitas. She hoped for news from America,
but Karitas had recevied no word from
Johanna’s mother, Ingibjorg and their two
brothers, Gudmundur and Johann.
On their return home, Ami Bjornsson, a
gaunt and weary rider from the coast,
brought the long awaited letter. Jonas an-
nounced his intention to emigrate, and in
the spring of 1888 he and his family with
others of their countrymen prepared to de-
part on the first tramp steamer of the sea-
son.
The harbour was crowded with people,
those emigrating, and their kinfolk bidding
them a sorrowful farewell.
"Yes, a lifelong farewell," Johanna
thought. "For never in this world will we
meet again."
PART II
The first departing tramp steamer of the
season loomed like a giant beside the dozen
fishing boats that rocked at their moorings.
Never before had Johanna seen such a ship.
She gazed in wonder at its huge steel-hulled
bulk, its black-painted sides, white derricks
and ventilators, and the two tri-colored fun-
nels from which black coal-smoke belched.
She heard its throbbing engines, and real-
ized that unlike the accustomed sailing
vessels, this monster would not be at the
mercy of winds and weather.
“Foolishly, I expected a sailing ship, not
this floating palace belching smoke,” she
said.
They walked slowly down to the sea.
Johanna watched with interest as brawny
stevedores, like laden slaves from some
Arabian Nights’ tale, loaded bales of dried
fish, sheep's hides, and enormous bundles
of hay.
Shepherds arrived driving a small flock of
sheep. They manoeuvred them along a high-