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Updated: May 17, 2025
Is old Hrolfur going fishing then? asked the doctor. Yes, he's going out to the islands and staying there about a week. It won't make any difference to him to slip ashore at Muladalir, if it would be any help. That's fine, said the doctor, turning to me. It's worth thinking over, unless you really need to go round the end of the fjord.
The boat almost stood on end; it was as if the sea was boiling around us boiling until the very seaweed on the rocks was turned to broth. Suddenly an ice-cold lash, as of a whip, seemed to strike me in the face. I staggered forwards under the blow and grasped at one of the mainstays. Let go the foresail, shouted Hrolfur. When I was able to look up, the sails were flapping idly over the gunwale.
Then it occurred to me what a fine thing it would be to avoid having to cross all those rivers which flow into the head of the fjord. Finally I decided that the doctor had no ulterior motive and that his advice was prompted by sheer goodwill. Is old Hrolfur all right at the moment? the doctor asked the man in the doorway. Yes, of course he is, said the man. All right?
The boat floated slowly in on the unaccustomed calm of the waters and stopped at the landing-place. Standing there watching were two men from the farm. I thought as much, it had to be old Hrolfur, one of them called out as we landed. It's no ordinary man's job to get into the creek on a day like this.
Hrolfur took his place on the crossbeam as if nothing had happened, just as he had sat there earlier in the day, whilst he was 'on the frigate'. Two of the crew began to set the sails, whilst one started to bail out. Soon the boat was once more on the move. I felt a strange lump in my throat as I watched old Hrolfur sailing away. God bless you, old salt, I thought.
Hrolfur raised himself up on the crossbeam, his fists clenched round the steering-ropes. Eric was almost bursting with laughter and trying hard not to let it be heard; but the man at the mast made little attempt to stifle his. She's made it, said Hrolfur, his face all smiles and nodding his head. Out to sea. Straight out to sea. Let her lie down a bit, if she wants to.
Are you going to sail in? said the man who'd been asleep. His voice came through a nose filled with snuff. Shut up, said Hrolfur savagely. The man took the hint and asked no more questions. No one asked a question, though every moment now was one of suspense. We all gazed in silence at the cliffs, which were lathered in white foam. One wave after another passed under the boat.
I was meant to understand that this was exactly what he had expected. After another interval the doctor said: You are going to do this traveller a favour then, Hrolfur? Oh, well, the boat won't mind taking him. In other words, I was to be nothing but so much ballast. Don't you think it's going to be tricky landing there in Mular Creek? Hrolfur straightened up, putting his hand to his back.
He was dressed in overalls made of skin, which reached up to his armpits and which were fastened by pieces of thin rope crossing over his shoulders. Further forward there was a second man, and a third was up on the jetty. Good day to you, Hrolfur, said the doctor. Good day to you, grunted Hrolfur as he straightened himself up and spat a stream of yellowish-brown liquid from his mouth.
I walked up to where old Hrolfur stood apart, on the low, flat rocks, thanked him for the trip and asked him what it cost. Cost? he said, scarce looking at me. What does it cost? Just a minute now, my lad, just a minute. He answered me with the complete lack of formality one accords an old friend, though we had met for the first time that day.
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