Rekyjavik Maritime Museum and Mozart

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After my late night watching the northern lights I have a lovely long lie in. When I eventually rouse myself, a peek out of the window reveals a snowy day - perfect for my planned museum trip - hopefully the Maritime Museum will finally be open after two failed attempts over the Easter period so far. I slip and slide my way to the hostel kitchen - I have to go outside across the yard to get to it and there's quite a bit of new ice to negotiate. I tuck into a big bowl of porridge and raisins and a squirt of runny honey that someone's donated to the 'free food' box and then set off down towards the harbour area where the Maritime Museum is located.

I spot an hilarious triangular video sign on the way telling me to 'WORK! WORK! GET TO WORK BITCH!' the words scrolling by and flashing up in different combinations. I also notice some signs on the scaffolding hoarding of a building site that liken their work to that of an orchestra and musicians mastering their instruments, tuning up and getting ready for a grand performance! I like a bit of creativity and imagination on the signage front.

"We're learning to play the violin. Due to popular demand we decided to add rooms and suites to Icelandair Hotel Reykjavik Marina as well as lounging and activity areas. Someone's first strokes with a violin and a bow are seldom perfect, but in spring 2015 we'll have mastered our concerto in full harmony with neighbouring instruments. Until then we apologise for the inevitable inconvenience and somewhat dissonant appearance."

"The orchestra is just tuning the instruments. Due to popular demand we decided etc..... Before each performance a symphony orchestra needs to tune the instruments to perfection. We'll be premiering in spring 2015 in dull harmony with neighbouring instruments etc.....

When I arrive at the Maritime Museum I find I'm one of only a handful of other people having a look around so in many of the rooms have the place pretty much to myself. Just the way I like it!

The first room is set out like a harbour area where all the passenger boats are leaving with people waving off their loved ones. I am standing on the deck of a ship! There's a little ship's galley to my right with a pack of cards on the table displaying the logo of the Eimskip shipping import/export company - a Thor's hammer, an ancient magic symbol supposedly used to see if someone had stolen from you. You and I know this symbol from its use by the Nazis - a Swastika! An unfortunate choice for any company - Carlesberg in Copenhagen was equally beset with problems for its choice of Thor's hammer for one of it's earlier logos. The Eimskip logo was left on their headquarters until tourists started coming to Reykjavik and misunderstood the company to be anti Semitic Nazi supporters. Since the building was protected as an historical site the company wasn't allowed to remove the symbol. Eventually a compromise was reached and they were allowed to cover the swastika over with the date the building was erected - 1919.

I find out about 'Seaman's Day' that has taken place in Reykjavik and other fishing villages every year for centuries. I don't know what people do to celebrate today but in the past they had tug-of-war, net making/mending races, harpoon fixing races, swimming races fully clothed in fishing gear, rowing races and rescue at sea demonstrations. There were also football matches and wrestling and boxing contests. The strangest event listed is a pillow fight! A film shows the crowds along Reykjavik harbour enjoying the fun in the 1950s and a guy looking very pleased with himself for winning the wooden cup - hopefully not for pillow fighting. I see the actual cup from the video in a nearby display case.

The main reason for holding Seaman's Day was to commemorate the memory of those seaman lost at sea. To highlight how dangerous fishing was a random year, 1933, has been picked out and the disasters at sea plotted on a map. That year there were 75 deaths! On a wall there are the names of the 3,445 sailors who lost their lives off the shores of Iceland between 1900 and 1999. Sobering statistics and reminder how difficult life at sea was for the fishermen.

I move to the next room and find some really fascinating exhibits telling the story of the settlers who fished from rowing boats, starting from the 13th century and carrying on until the end of the 19th century when large sailing cutters took over. I usually find it really hard to imagine how the items I see in museums would have been used and what life would really have been like for the people who used them, so I'm really pleased to be able to watch a fascinating re-enactment video 'Give us this day' that's been put together by Icelandic actors/fishermen showing a day in the life of a rowing boat crew of Icelandic fisherman. It's utterly absorbing and I sit through the whole 30 minutes or so of the film. It starts in the fishermen's house where they all live together. They don't have any kind of alarm to wake them up but seem to be attuned to their day waking naturally at the crack of dawn. It's a very early start as they have lots of preparations to make before pushing their rowing boat out to sea. There's the bait to be prepared, taken from the drying shed. Long lines with hooks set along them at regular intervals are primed with pieces of bait. There are 5 lines per fisherman and each line is marked with a symbol to identify who each belongs to. Living with the fishermen is a station woman whose job it is to feed the men and keep the house. She makes them coffee in the morning and cooks them some food. They don't take food with them on their fishing expeditions, just a barrel of whey. They need all the space they can get on the boat for their catch. Before they set out the fishermen need to put on their skin clothing which is tied onto them with ropes to keep them in place. I see some examples of these skins and they don't exactly look very flexible and must have absolutely stunk of ingrained fish entrails. Not the kind of item you can fling in the wash tub.

The helmsman is the guy in charge and the most experienced seaman of the entire crew. He assigns positions in the boat to the men and each has a very specific job to carry out. Before they push the boat out to sea they all make the sign of the cross and pray for a safe trip 'Our lives are in your hands'. The boat is helped into the water by pushing it along whale-bone runners or sliders. Rocks are used as ballast in the boat to create stability. And so begin the many hours of rowing to get to the fishing grounds. 3-4 hours non-stop rowing in the bitter cold weather that Iceland regularly chucked at them must have made these guys such hardy, stoic characters. The crew relies totally on the skill of the helmsman who takes bearing from landmarks to judge where they are. He tastes the water to judge where the shoals of fish might be! Eventually he is satisfied they are in a likely spot and the baited lines have rocks tied to their ends before they are hand fed into the water hook by hook until the ends are reached. Each end has a buoy to help relocate the lines. Once all the lines are set it's a waiting game to try and optimise the catch.

The guys pass around the barrel of whey while they are waiting for the fish to bite. They play slapping games to try and keep warm and sing bawdy songs 'Bogi plunged his lusty tool between her thighs. Come closer the harlot said!'. We are treated to the sight of one of the fishermen having to relieve himself over the side of the boat, his bum on show for all to see - no chance for modesty while having a shit on this boat!

And finally the waiting is over and the anxious helmsman can see how successful his choice of fishing ground has been as it's time to haul in the lines. This is where team work comes into play and each fisherman's job is carried out to perfection. One hauls in the line, another stows it, 'fish headers' deal with the fish that are caught.

Once all the fish are off the lines and sorted the rock ballast is thrown overboard now that it is no longer needed and the sails are set to help the rowers get the fishermen back to shore. They 'whistle for the wind' avoiding bad luck if they didn't follow this ancient tradition. Now they have a boat loaded with catch the fishermen can relax and row back home. The whole trip takes 11 hours in total but work isn't finished when they get back to shore as the boat has to be winched ashore and the catch dealt with. Fish gutting carries on until around 7.30pm, the heads prepared for drying and the rest of the fish for salting. The station woman has some hot food ready for them and the fishermen wolf this down not having had anything to eat but the whey drink all day. There are just a couple of hours of day left for them to relax, read, do some craft work, carving wood and whale bone, singing songs, drinking before crashing out in their bunks. A repeat day is due in just a few hours.

What a brilliant film. It made the fishing process of that time so clear and easy to understand and gave a far better appreciation of the harsh lives the men led, how bitterly cold it must have been and what little rewards they had to look forward to.

Fishing didn't change much for centuries with rowing boats used to get to the fishing grounds up until the late 19th century. Large sailing boats, cutters, took over for a short period until 1900 when steam trawlers took the fishing industry into a new era. Navigation became more technical with compasses and sextants used to find the fishing grounds. The trawlers started to use ice to keep the catch fresh and boats were able to stay out at sea for much longer. The men were housed in tiny bunks and there is a mock up of these in the museum. It does look really cosy, but that's without the swell of the sea and the noise and stink of fish all around. Gutting and salting also happened on board rather than back on shore.

Not only were there changes for the fishermen, whole industries were set up to support them. There were bobbin and net making operations, people employed to service the trawlers and massive baiting sheds were set up to get the lines ready for taking out to sea. Navigation was key and a famous compass repair man 'Konni the Compass' lived and worked in Reykjavik from 1928 to 1988. There's an area set out with all his instruments and equipment. Radio operators became necessary on ships and special cabins were made for them to work in.

I move into the more up to date exhibitions showing fishing from the 20th century and up to the present. There's lots of model boat replicas of the many trawlers that have been based in Iceland, but I'm getting a bit fished out now and as a vegetarian find it fascinating but gruesome all at the same time.

Outside the Maritime Museum in the harbour is an example of a fishing trawler, the Gullborg, that you can go on board at certain times. But for me it's time to move on back to the hostel to cosy up in the warm out of the snow flurries.

Most of the girls in my dorm are excitedly talking about the really good northern lights forecast for tonight but I'm due to attend a concert of Mozart at the Harpa Concert Hall in the evening so won't be able to join them. I do find out that the Chinese girl who is in the bunk opposite, whose name I've forgotten, is also going so we arrange to meet there. Unfortunately things don't turn out quite as we planned. I arrive at the Harpa early, wanting to get the full experience of the building before the concert only to find the box office staff apologetically turning concert goers away. The orchestra is ON STRIKE for the first time in their entire history! We are allowed to go inside the concert hall to have a look around and I get to go on the stage and stand in the spot the oboes would have been in, but it's a huge disappointment. I meet my hostel friend as I'm leaving and have to break the news to her too. She's really upset. She'd been looking forward to the concert for ages just like me. At least she might get another chance to hear the orchestra as she is interning at the hostel for the summer.

At least the cancelled concert means I can book on another northern lights tour. I decide to head off on my own with the original company I'd been with before, the others all leaving later with a different company. The tour guide is much more hopeful of us getting a good show tonight and we hope we get to Thingvellir national park in time to see a brilliant display. There are loads of buses at the site when we arrive and everyone piles out of ours to nab themselves a good spot. I take my camera hoping to get a shot of my own with my little compact camera but I'm not hopeful, it didn't cope with night shots the previous time. Suddenly a shout goes up and there are the lights. They are still just grey to the naked eye but are all around the sky, moving and drifting. One section does become more green in colour and it's loads better than the previous night. A real wow moment. I have a look at some people's shots through their posh cameras and am amazed at the brilliant colours that the camera picks up. I see the tour guide is taking photos with people in the foreground so go over to have my turn in front of the lens. The method used involves standing really still for about 15 seconds with a torch shone briefly on the person standing in front of the camera. It seems to work and I'm really pleased with my photograph which he promises will go up on the Reykjavik Excursions facebook page in the next couple of days.

I've been to Iceland and I've seen the northern lights proper! Exciting stuff, but not as spectacular as I'd thought they would be. All those brightly coloured photos are kind of a bit of a con, but very beautiful none the less.

[Addendum: Having talked to a couple of friends at work who saw the northern lights in Iceland over New Year, I've found out that when the displays are really strong the lights ARE colourful to the naked eye and move pretty quickly about the sky. So don't be put off by my less than glowing account].

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Photos

Skins worn by fishermen. These were softened with fish oil. They also wore pants and socks made from skins!