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.