Iceland 1999 - Goin' down south
From Worldtraveller
And so, on day 18, we arrived back in Reykjavík, and our full circle was complete. It was quite a sad moment, and it really felt like the holiday was over. However, we still had the Vestmannaeyjar islands to go to, so after a night at the Reykjavík campground, we took a bus to þorlákshöfn, from where you can get a ferry to Vestmannaeyjar, the Westman Islands. It’s a notoriously queasy three hour run to Heimaey, the largest and only inhabited Westman Island, but on the day we went, it was calm, sunny and warm. After a pleasant crossing, we entered the spectacular harbour of Heimaey. Huge cliffs rise on one side of the harbour, while two volcanoes dominate the other side. We disembarked, and walked to the campground, situated impressively inside the crater of an ancient volcano.
The Westman Islands have a fascinating and chequered history. The first people to arrive were some Irish slaves who had murdered their owner on the mainland, and escaped to here. They were soon tracked down, and killed. However, the islands are now named after them (Ireland being west of mainland Scandinavia). The first permanent settler arrived on Heimaey in the eighth century, and the island has been inhabited ever since. Intermittent droughts, and the regular loss of men to the sea while they work, have hampered the island’s development, while a pirate raid in 1627 claimed half the population, and almost eradicated the settlement.
Over the last century, though, a water pipe from the mainland has eliminated the threat of drought, and fishing accidents have become less frequent and less severe as larger vessels have come into use. The islands now provide a quarter of Iceland’s fish exports, and seemed to be set fair for the future, until January 1973.
The 23rd of January 1973 will be remembered for a long time on Heimaey. A mile-long fissure opened up across the island, spouting huge lava fountains and spraying ash over the town. Luckily, the fishing fleet was in the harbour that night, and so the town was rapidly evacuated. The eruption continued until July of that year, by which time one-third of the village had been covered by lava. The rest was thickly coated in ash. The harbour had almost been closed off, saved only by the fire service pumping millions of gallons of water daily onto the advancing lava flows. It was uncertain whether anyone would go back.
However, as the islanders love to point out today, they weren’t going to be put off by a mere volcano, and within a very short time, people were rebuilding their lives. The fishing fleet began again to use the harbour, which had actually been improved, and they used the warmth of the cooling lava to heat the town. These days, it’s hard to believe how touch and go the situation was for a while, although the eastern side of town backs right onto the 1973 lava, and the new volcano, now named Eldfell (Fire Mountain), dominates the landscape.
So we set up camp in Herjólfsdalur on the west side of the island, and made plans to explore. We saw the Aurorae on our first night there, for the first time since Mývatn, which we were pleased about. We hoped that the skies would stay clear for the next day.
