Chapter XIV: Section II: At Djúpivogr

I parted regretfully with Mr Chapman, who had no longer anything to detain him in Iceland, and landed in company with four Englishmen. Mr Askam, with a fine persistency which hails from Yorkshire, would have probably tried to swim ashore had “Diana” shown the white feather. Mr Alfred G. Lock, the concessionist of the north-eastern sulphur mines, his son Charles, and a friend, Mr Pow, of Penicuick, lately from the Argentine Republic, were equally pleased with the unexpected favours of the fog. The former easily persuaded me to join him as far as the Mý-vatn, with the hopes of pushing southwards over the Ódáða Hraun to the unexplored Vatnajökull.

A few preliminary words concerning the mysterious formation along whose southern line we have coasted, and whose northern frontier we shall presently visit. The map shows a huge white blot, labelled Vatnajökull eða Klofajökull, and little distinction is made by the people. The former, signifying water or lake glacier, is so called because _avalasses_ of fluid are at times discharged--a phenomenon generally attributed to the bursting of reservoirs through the frozen edges, which are higher than the interior: perhaps the snow and ice may be melted by volcanic eruptions. Klofajökull would mean the crevasse glacier, and its nature is said to justify the name. The total area, 3000 square geographical miles (115 by 60, according to Baring-Gould), has been reduced by Dr Lauder Lindsay, utterly without reason, to 400. The volcano hidden within the white depths is placed, by the best authority, Síra Sigurðr Gunnarson, on the north-eastern mid-arc of the Skaptárjökull (N. lat. 64° 17´ to 20´, and W. long. 30° 20´). Its smoke has been seen at Úthlið, south-west of the Geysir, and the people of Berufjörð attribute to it the fog and ash-mist which prevailed between August 18 and 24 of 1872.

Mr James Bryce says of the Vatnajökull, “One tremendous mass, out of which the highest peaks of the island rise, has never been crossed, and never will.” I see no reason to admit him even among the minor prophets. In early days attempts were made to penetrate from the north. The Landnámabók (part iii., pp. 257, 258) tells us, that Bárðr sun Heyángursbiarnar (Bardus filius Heyangur-Biörnis), who had settled up the Skjálfandafljót (river of shivering or earthquakes?), hoping to find a milder climate on the southern coast of the island, began to travel in spring, “per _Vonarskardum_ (crenam spei) cui postea nomen est _Bardargata_ (Semita Bardi); ille postea Fliotshversum occupavit, et Gnupis habitavit, tunc cognomen Gnupa-Bardus (Gnúpa-Bárdr) adeptus est.” Bárðdalr is still known upon the middle course of the Skjálfandafljót, and Fljótshverfi (flood-village) lies east of the Blængr cone. Thus the old man crossed from north to south, along the western skirts of the Vatna-and Klofa-jökulls. The northern counterscarp was visited early in the present century by a party of Danish officers, who, in the attempt, lost a number of ponies through cold and hunger. In July to August 1838, Professor Gunnlaugsson, accompanied by Síra Sigurðr Gunnarson, travelled along the Vatnajökullsvegr, which subtends the north-west, passed the Kistufell, where the west Jökulsá rises, during the night, or when a fog hid it; crossed the upper waters of that river, and struck the Brú (bridge) on the eastern “glacier-river” of the same name. Hr Guðmundsson, of Reykjavik, subsequently visited the Blængr cone, an extinct volcano at the head of the Skaptá-Kuði valley, to the south-west of the Klofajökull. He advised me to travel inland from Hekla, leaving the Skælíngar (scowling) peaks to the left or north; to rest at the fine Búland farm; to cross the Skaptá, and to attack the glacier from the Blængr, where the approach is easy, and whence he saw neither lakes nor crevasses. I also heard of another attempt to penetrate from the Skeiðará valley, which lies west of the Öræfajökull; it failed, but no further details were procurable.

In the summer of 1871, a stout-hearted attempt to penetrate from the south was made by a young law student, Mr Watts, of the Middle Temple,[137] who, accompanied by Mr Milne, reached the large patch of forest called in the map “Núpstaðarskógr.” Hence he made for a crooked cone lying west of a black rock, but he was compelled to beat a retreat. No Icelander would be persuaded to risk life or limb. The travellers had no snow shoes to prevent their sinking thigh-deep at every step, and, having neglected ladders, they were obliged to throw their packs across, and to leap the numerous little crevasses; moreover, the intense cold robbed them of sleep. After his return, he described the Vatnajökull as “at once a volcano and glacial region of immense extent, within which there is reason to believe that many active craters (?) are included. Vast streams of lava, of a magnitude unparalleled elsewhere (?), have issued from it, both in pre-historic and in historic times. Surmises of the vaguest character have been formed respecting the interior, which may possibly include fertile valleys, the resort of the reindeer for winter quarters (?). It is encompassed on all sides, as far as the traveller could judge, by a desert formed by the action of the sea, huge lava-streams, and fragmentary ejectments, and _detritus_ brought down by the flooded rivers incidental to volcanic eruptions. The south base of the mountain is composed of repeated layers of basalt, overlying the older tufas (Palagonite?), over which many lava-streams had flowed at various times, while beyond this, apparently, lies a huge glacier, through which many extinct as well as active volcanic vents have penetrated.”

Mr Watts has twice renewed his attempt (1874 and 1875), and his stout heart deserves, if it cannot command, success. He strongly advised me to avoid the Berufjörð line, and there, I think, he was wrong. The Journal will enter into details; suffice it here to say that there are two roads perfectly practicable. One which we did not visit ascends the Fossárdalr and strikes the Axavatn (axe-water) and Líkárvatn (lyke-water lake?), tarns which many Icelanders have visited: thence the traveller would ford or boat over the upper waters of the Fljótsdalr and the little Jökulsá, which latter leads directly into the north-eastern Vatnajökull. The other, _viâ_ the Lagarfljót, will be described in the following pages. Both offer the great advantages of saving a week’s hard travel to man and beast, of sparing supplies, and of offering a choice of places where depôts can be established.

We found three dwarf landing-piers at Djúpivogr; and that to the east, with its double tramway, was a queer contrast with the popular anchor, four upright cask staves, and two below, containing rough blocks of basalt. A hospitable reception awaited us from Hr N. P. E. Weywadt, the principal agent for the comptoir, and his brother Captain H. R. Tvede, both Danes: the latter has travelled far and wide, he has served in the United States navy, and his abundant information is freely retailed. The former occupies the block of building, tarred wood as usual, to the west of the baylet, containing the dwelling-house and sundry stores. The windmill, little bigger than a man, a common labour-saver in these regions, is rudeness personified. The toy sails of sacking work a perpendicular cog acting upon a horizontal wheel, whose square iron spindle turns the stone: the rye is placed in the hopper or upper case provided with a shoot; the damsel is a nail worked by the spindle, and, as there is no vent in the bucket, the flour must be baled out with the hand. The stones are taken from the quern, and indeed larger sizes are not wanted. These primitive articles make better meal than the mouldy imported flour. Finally, the “wind-house” crowns an adjoining nub of basalt. Facing it is the boiling establishment, a large wooden shed like an Iceland church, containing thirteen vats, an iron pan, and a smithy in a detached hovel. On the hill behind is the “look-out,” which becomes important when steamers are expected. South, or at the bottom of the baylet, lie two double-storied black houses, with white windows, Captain Tvede’s stores: we were comfortably lodged in the upper floor. The climate here is exceptionally genial, less severe in fact than that of Scotland. The north wind is cold and clear, the south wet and warm, the east raw and clammy, and the west mild and muggy. It is reported that an observatory will be established at Djúpivogr. Little farms, provided with nets against sheep, are scattered all around, and Hr Weywadt rents a large tract of ground which we shall pass going up the firth.

I spent some days at the mouth of the Berufjörð, coming and going, and had a good opportunity of studying the whale fishery. A company was established by Captain Hammar, a Danish officer, who afterwards went to Russia with the object of teaching the use of strychnine and curari--here the people opposed him as much as possible, declaring that the flesh, which is poisonous only about the wound, would kill men and dogs.[138] The chief objection is that the animal sinks, and does not rise till some two days after death, causing frequent loss. The first year brought in $10,000; the second, $5000; after which the concern was sold to three capitalists, under whom the shares fell 95 per cent., with a loss of $300,000 to $400,000.

The Iceland whale fishery, famous during the last century[139] all round the island, ceased about the middle of last century, when better grounds were discovered: the result is that the animals have increased abundantly. The natives declare that there are thirteen species, but of these doubtless some are _Delphini_. The following are the four best known:[140]

1. _Balæna mysticetus_, or “right” whale of Greenland and the South Atlantic; _la baleine franche_, which lacks dorsal fin, is found off the north coast, but was never seen here by living man.

2. _Balænopter a gigas_, or humpback whale, whose fins, despite the name, do not form wings: it is the biggest, averaging seventy to eighty feet; it contains the best and largest quantity of oil, and its colour is whitish, with wrinkled belly.

3. _Balæna physalus_, herring or sulphur whale, containing far less blubber than the preceding.

4. _Balæna rostrata_, the yellow-brown finback, or round-lipped whale, whose forefins are some nine feet in length: it is the smallest, the liveliest, and the most powerful; it frequently ascends the firths, and it is known by throwing the highest jets.

The animals are wild and wary, probably the result of clear water, and do not allow themselves to be approached in steamers: they are harpooned from boats using four to six oars. The latter three being “finners” (_Physalus antiquorum_), do not produce much--fifty barrels would be a fair average. The carcass is cut up on the strand; and the fatty matter, after being kept for some three weeks, when it supplies more oil, is boiled down. The belly, which contains no blubber, yields the favourite food, “Rengi:” when fresh this yellow-white layer between the Spik (speck) and the Thersti (flesh) is mistaken by the ignorant for beef and pork, while connoisseurs prefer it to any meat, especially after it has been soaked in vinegar or sour whey. The whalebone is sent to England, where, according to Mr Consul Crowe (loc. cit.), “it appears to be used for making Prussian blue.” The oil is employed in tanning: the first boiling, of course, is the clearer, and the second is browner, with more “foot.”

Shark-hunting is a popular pastime, here as in “Colymbia,” being more profitable to the Icelander than the whale. It is chiefly the _Scymnus microcephalus_, or Greenlander, called by the people Há-karl[141] (pronounced _Hau-kadl_); it may average 18 feet in length, and attain a maximum of 25; the back has two small fins, and the liver, which extends nearly through the whole body, may yield two barrels of oil, each about 140 quarts. It is dangerously voracious; we never hear of accidents to men, for the best reason, they do not bathe; but it tears steaks from the whale’s sides, it devours dead reindeer (?), porpoises, seals, and cods, and it does not despise a pair of boots. The _Scymnus_ much resembles the sunfish or basking-shark (_Scyllium maximus_), which is caught off western Ireland between May and the end of June; the southern monster, however, ranges from 20 to 50 feet in length, and its dorsal fin stands like a gigantic ploughshare about a yard above water. The ova of the Há-karl, nearly the size of hens’ eggs, are produced in July and August, each shark yielding about half a barrel full. The skin is grey, coarse-grained, and incapable of being polished, but it is valued for shoes.

The sense of smell is said to be highly developed in the Há-karl; on the other hand, it is dim of sight as the elephant, the horny covering of the eye attracting the parasitical whale-louse (_Læermodipoda_, _Cyamus_, etc.), which often invest the whole organ. Its vitality is familiar to all who have seen a shark cut up, and tales are told of its swimming round the vessel after being ripped up and losing its liver. This carnivor is caught near the eastern coasts, in 60 to 80 fathoms. On the north it always hugs the land between November and March: in summer it goes out to sea, and it sometimes lies in a depth of 300 fathoms. The usual “sharkers” were half-decked affairs, ranging from 20 to 25 tons, with a crew of six to eight men: they were preferred because heavy grapnels and hawsers are not required; moorings could readily be shifted, and, being low in the water, the prey could be more easily hauled in.

Off late years the craft used on the north side of the island are decked vessels of 35 to 54 tons, provided with oars, and so lightly built that in calm weather they can easily move from place to place, and get clear of the ice. They lie in preference off the rising edge of a bank, the anchor being generally a four-pronged iron grapple, weighing about 180 lbs., with 15 to 20 fathoms of 9/16 inch. chain-cable, and a 350-fathom hawser. If nothing is caught, the position is shifted until the shark is found; and if the latter is good, the vessel remains at the spot, and rides out the storms. In calm wintry weather the fishermen venture their small boats, and if fortunate, they may secure within a couple of days fifteen barrels of liver per crew.

The lines used are thick as our deep-sea log-lines, fastened to three fathoms of chain, weighted in the middle with leads of 10 to 13 lbs. Under this is attached a strong 6-inch iron hook, notched inside to prevent the bait slipping: the latter is generally horsemeat, which has been soaked in blood, or seal-blubber which fetches a mark and more per pound. When hauled up to the surface, the captive is made fast with a rope attached to the craft, and killed with a lance; the belly is ripped up, the liver is stowed away, the gall is preserved for soap, the head is cut off, and the carcass is slung alongside the vessel. “The stench of the dead shark is so intolerable that it cannot be taken on board; but the reason for keeping it is the fear that if the live ones were allowed to glut themselves on their dead comrades, they would no longer take the bait so readily; for they are so voracious that often only a portion of the shark caught on the hook reaches the surface, the others having partly devoured the wounded monster on his passage upwards. So firm are the fishermen on the west coast in this belief, that they have petitioned the legislature to enforce by law the keeping of the carcasses alongside as long as the fishing lasts. This opinion, however, is not shared by all the shark-fishers, and is open to doubt.”

The value of a carcass on shore is about 7s. 6d. A moderate-sized shark gives two-thirds of a barrel of oil, and three barrels of liver yield on an average two barrels; the former each worth between 37s. and 50s., and the latter from 55s. to 125s. The chief markets are Sweden and Germany, where it is largely used for tanneries. The high odour of the comptoirs arises from the liver being kept for some three weeks, under the idea that the supply is increased. The skin is pegged out on the ground to dry, and the flesh, especially of a kind of dog-shark, is sold. The latter is buried for some months above high-water mark; a year is better, and two years make it a delicacy. This _bonne bouche_ has a clear, yellow, red colour, with somewhat the appearance of smoked salmon. Indigestible as all sharks’ meat, it is peculiarly “staying” food, and a couple of ounces will satisfy a man for the day. According to some travellers (Dillon and others), this “crack-dish” communicates its rankness to the eater, who is unapproachable for three weeks; but I never observed the fact; nor did I find that the prepared flesh was unpleasant to the nose, “its presence in a room being very perceptible.” Mr Crowe adds that the peasants often burying it in the ground for two or three weeks, take it up, wash, and cut it in strips, which are hung for a year in the drying house before being considered fit for food. Finally, it is never used here, as in Maskat and Zanzibar, when in the state which may mildly be called “high.”

At Djúpivogr we found the usual species of fin. The white fish is caught by long lines laid at night, and hauled in next day. They carry 200 to 300 hooks, but they are miniatures of the giants used by English fishermen in the North Sea, which are measured by miles. The flounder, the halibut (Heilag-fiski, Helliflynder, _Hippoglossus pinguis_, or holy flounder), and the red-spotted plaice are favourites, despite want of flavour: the dried skate is the bread of this ichthyophagous race, and the fish has passed into a proverb for voracity--“he eats everything that comes in his way like a skate.” I heard reports of enormous squids, the skate-whaals of the Shetlands, which may easily have given rise to the “Kraken” tale. Specimens have been seen from Zanzibar to Newfoundland, where cuttle-fish (_Architeuthis monachus_ and _A. Dux. Steenstrŭp_) have been found with bodies 15 feet long by 19 inches diameter, and “extensive arms of unknown extent.” The “Great Cuttle-fish” is the Dragon of Polynesian mythology (p. 209, The Emigration of Turi), and it pulled down canoes unless killed by the axe. The Calmar de Bouguer, so called from the officer commanding the aviso “Alecton,” was attacked in 1861, off north-eastern Tenerife, with bullets and harpoons; this _piuvre_ is described as 18 feet long, and beaked like a giant parrot. Moreover, the lumps of rock rising suddenly from the smooths and lines of ripple, viewed through the evening fog, must have kept alive the haunting idea of the kraken. The Great Sea Serpent, or Soe-orm, _alias_ Aale last (_Serpens marinus magnus_), appears in the pages of Bishop Pontoppidan as an impossible snake, with crescental coils disposed perpendicularly instead of horizontally. Although Professor Owen determined it to be an otary, the fact is not “proven;” and of late years it was revived as a gigantic saurian which has escaped the general destruction of his race. Similarly there is an immense mass of evidence in favour of the Lind-orm or great land serpent. We find him in Livy, Pliny, and Strabo; and Regulus saw him at Bagrada stretching 100 feet long. That most conscientious traveller, Dr de Lacerda, relates that when voyaging up the Brazilian Tiété, his slaves sat down upon a trunk, which proved to be a snake; and I brought home traditions of his having closed a path to travellers in Eastern Intertropical Africa.