November 13, 2000
The museum guide, a very old fisherman, dressed in oilskins, had not a word of English. Our mini-bus driver explained the place in the proper British English all young Icelanders learn in school. The 'gift shop' was an honor box with a few cards on sale. By chance in the gloom of the house, I selected one with English text. Is it possible all the cards had English text?
Outside, just above the strand, a wooden fishing boat such as the ones we had just seen at the Maritime Museum in Isafjordur, single masted, was rigged to demonstrate sail rigging. An actual ocean-going fishing boat not much bigger than what we would call a dory. Oh my, here in the home country of 'Perfect Storms'. If you ever get to this part of the world--come to this place. Perhaps the old man will still be there. I don't think he goes fishing any more.
From journal Isafjordur, Iceland by ship