The Icelandic Canadian - 01.08.2001, Side 36

The Icelandic Canadian - 01.08.2001, Side 36
118 THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN Vol. 56 #3 eral weeks after this excursion. The shallow draught of the Viking ship made it feel as if we were skimming the crests of the wave. I went to the bow where I could get the full effect of the crests crashing against the ship. This experience was analogous to my first experience in an amusement park aboard the most daunting of roller coasters. The big difference, of course, was the fact that this ride would be over fifteen hours. Crewman Palmi Magnusson was at the rudder and was apparently quite bemused by my antics as I braced myself for each crest. I could not contain my excitement and probably had the crew shaking their heads. If I were a neo-Viking, I would def- initely have been a good candidate to be a Berserker. After a brief respite lying on the deck in the afternoon sun, I continually strolled the confines of the deck and sat to chat briefly with the reporter from the National Public Radio Service. Avraham was fairing quite well but the steady undulation of the three metre swells was taking its toll. The Boston lad had even less experience than I at sea. When his colour worsened I started to sug- gest he look overboad aft when he got sick. Without missing a beat, crewman Stefan Gunnarson had the deck quickly in order and sought assistance from the rest of the crew to address Av’s misery. He was wrapped in a sleeping bag, given gravol and “something to calm his nerves.” He slept for the next ten hours. I, in the meantime, purposefully remained somewhat aloof from the crew as I had taken note of the traveler Ahmad Ibn Fadlan. He had first observed the Vikings in The Thirteenth Warrior much the same way a cultural anthropologist would observe a new found tribe. I chose to imagine myself having been thrust back 1000 years. As a history teacher, this was the most amazing, surreal experience. I try to get my students to experience history, to live it and, I was liv- ing it. By mid-voyage I was overcome by the inexplicable urge to sack Lunenburg. Cooler heads prevailed and I settled in the galley for a fantastic curried lamb on a bed of rice, some “kleinu-hringar” I had picked up for the crew at Tim Horton’s and of course, the bottomless Kaffisopi. So much for the true Viking. At this time I got to know the crew. I did not ask them the standard questions about the size of the ship, etc. as they had been asked several times in Halifax. I sus- pect they had been asked the same question a thousand times over. I had some knowl- edge of the vessel as I had frequently visit- ed the website in anticipation of the trip and was up early to watch the arrival at L'Anse Aux Meadows on Newsworld. I wanted to know what inspired them to undertake such a gruelling voyage. What would make someone give up the luxury of home for the spartan conditions aboard the ship? How hard was it to be away from the family for such a long period of time? What were some of the most terrifying moments of the journey? My short time on board at this point was suffi- cient to determine that three modern day Vikings were no less the adventurers than our ancestors of a thousand years. Encountering ice flows off Labrador’s coast and fearing for their lives in a violent storm the very night before my leg of the journey were but some of their varied experiences. Captain Gunnar Eggertson spoke of this voyage as his duty to pay homage to his ancestor Leifur Eriksson. The crews dogged determination manning the rud- An estimated 1,000 people cheered our arrival at Lockeport.

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