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Updated: May 17, 2025
The wind had slackened somewhat, but now that we had reached so far out into the bay the waves were higher; they were the remains of the huge ocean waves which raged on the high seas, remains which, despite the adverse wind, made their way far up the fjord. Hrolfur no longer talked aloud, but he continued to hum quietly to himself.
I repeatedly begged Hrolfur to let me pay him for the journey, but it was no use. At last he became serious again and said: The journey costs nothing, as I said to you. I've brought many a traveller over here to the creek and never taken a penny in return.
All this while, wave after wave came riding through the entrance to the creek, pouring their white cascades of foam over the reefs. Hrolfur watched them steadily and waited, like an animal ready to pounce on its prey. Now, my lads, cried Hrolfur suddenly. The oars crashed into the sea, and the boat shot forward. Just so, I thought, must the vikings in olden time have rowed to the attack.
Hand me that stone over there. These last words were addressed not to the doctor or me, but to the man on the jetty. Hrolfur vouchsafed me one quick, unfriendly glance, but apart from that scarcely seemed to notice me. The look in those sharp, haunting eyes went through me like a knife. Never before had anyone looked at me with a glance so piercing and so full of misgiving.
Hrolfur stood at the rudder, immovable, his eyes shifting from side to side, now under the sail, now past it. He chewed vigorously on his quid of tobacco and spat. There was much less sign now of the twitchings round his eyes than there'd been earlier in the day, and his very calmness had a soothing effect on us all. As we approached the creek, a huge wave rose up behind us.
The boat turned into the inlet. It was quieter there than outside, and the sea was just a little another. Loosen the foresail, Hrolfur ordered. It was Eric who obeyed and held on to the sheet Hrolfur himself untied the mainsail, whilst at the same time keeping hold of the sheet. I imagined Hrolfur must be thinking it safer to have the sails loose as it was likely to be gusty in the inlet.
For a long time, almost an hour, I lay in silence, thinking only of what I saw and heard around me. There was more than enough to keep me awake. I noticed how the sail billowed out, full of wind, pulling hard at the clew-line, which was made fast to the gunwhale beside Hrolfur. The fore-sail resembled a beautifully curved sheet of steel, stiff and unyielding.
We were making straight for the open bay. On the horizon before us the mountainous cliffs, dark blue with a thick, ragged patch of mist at the top, towered steeply over the waves. In between, the sea stretched out, seemingly for miles. Hrolfur was at the rudder.
It'll do her no harm to ship a drop or two. Let it 'bubble up over her rowlocks, as we Icelanders say. Even though she creaks a bit, it's all to the good. Her planks aren't rotten when they make that noise. All right, we'll sail the bottom out of her but forward she'll go forward, forward she shall go! Hrolfur let his voice drop and drew out his jet words slowly.
In their imagination people thus tended to make their environment seem larger, and better, than life, as did Hrolfur with his fishing-boat in the story When I was on the Frigate. About 1800, things began to improve. The monopoly of trade, which had been relaxed in 1787, was finally abolished in 1854.
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