The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.2004, Blaðsíða 42

The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.2004, Blaðsíða 42
136 THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN Vol. 58 #3 watching the midnight sun dip to the northern horizon, slide sideways for about an hour in an eastward direction, then slowly begin its ascent into the northern sky. Our vantage point was the edge of a perfectly still lake just north of Hofsos, sky and water sharing shades of pink and dark lavender. Our quest continued to Akureyri and Sigluvik, my grandfather’s birthplace. Akureyri is the second largest city in Iceland, situated on the north-central coast. It has the reputation of providing the warmest and sunniest climate on the island, and it delivered a warm welcome to us. After checking into our Bed and Breakfast, we crossed the long causeway to arrive on the east coast of Eyjafjordur. A short drive north brought us to a farm with the sign “Sigluvik” at the entrance. The long drive took us to a house nestled above the fjord. We spilled out of the car and approached the house. We stood at the base of the steps as my father, Irvin, went to the door and knocked. A young man appeared at the door, a phone occupying his atten- tion. He signaled to us to wait while he completed his conversation. Dad told him why we were at his doorstep. He was com- pletely delighted when he heard that the offspring of a man born in 1881 on that very yard had found their way back for a visit. He welcomed us in with a universal statement, “Please come in. Excuse house. Wife away.... I baby sitting.” With a hearty laugh, we were graciously escorted into his neat bright living room and invited to sit down. “What was your grandfather’s name?” The answer sent him to his library, from which he retrieved a book, about 1-1/4 inches thick. Opening it to the chapter cov- ering the late 19th century, my dad and his sister were once again looking at a photo- graph of their grandfather. It was our turn for a question. “What does it say ‘in English?’” Eric, the current tenant of the farm, tried to interpret with the help of his ten-year-old son who has just begun to study English at school. With a few words and many gestures, the game of charades revealed that my great grandfather had owned the farm, 4 fishing boats, each with a 4 man crew (a large fleet for that era) and served as an administrator in the communi- ty. With a great struggle, and the assistance of an Icelandic-English dictionary, ‘admin- istrator’ was translated as person elected to solve problems among neighbours. If a sheep had done damage to a neighbour’s crop, he would be the one to resolve the differences. Erik explained that this historic book held the records of every family who had lived for at least 2 years at Sigluvik from the year 1100 onward. Entries include infor- mation about the families, their occupa- tion, names of children, anecdotes of inter- est that had happened on the farm, and a vivid description of each dwelling that had existed on the yard. These descriptions were so complete that an artist could draw Ac Hofsos, we have Valgeir Thorvaldsson, Lois Martin, Rick and Mary Jane Stefansson, Wincie Johannsdottir and Kristin Stefansson.
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