Dateline: Husavik

So while my earlier remark was true — I won’t have a lot of time to explore Husavik, Iceland, on this visit — I have spent a bit of time wandering. And since I know you’re dying to ask, here are some impressions of this seaside burg.

* The whale museum is excellent. This former (and still, to a certain extent) whaling community has been transformed into a whale-watching community. The museum that commemorates the former and celebrates the latter is an interesting, educational, fun resource that will teach you all you need to know about whales and their relation with humans. Worth the price of admission.

* The culture house is incomplete to me. There was no one at the admission desk when I arrived, and no one showed up when I pressed the “press here for service” button. I wandered into the maritime-history section, which was open, and found it filled with history and information and educational resources. The exhibition on daily life in this region was, sadly, locked, and through the windows it sure looked like an area I wanted to explore. Color me disappointed.

* Husavik is still a fishing community. Cleaned up and made touristy, the town retains the very strong feel of a still-working fishing town. The smell of fish pervades the entire community, not just the dock where Polar Bear is secured. And fork lifts wander the town hauling huge crates of ice in one direction and fish in the other. Husavik may be transitioning to a tourism-driven economy but fish still drives the town for now.

And last but not least…

* The phallus museum remains unknown. I know this is just what you were looking for: a museum dedicated to male genitalia of the animal kingdom. I am not making this up. The brochures promise umpteen examples of whale penises, and examples of pick-the-term-of-your-choice from another umpteen animals. And before you ask, yes, there are (apparently) plaster casts of a few penises from members of the species homo sapiens who have bequeathed their members to the museum upon their death. No word as to whether this has made these generous donors more popular with the female of the species but you gotta give ’em points for taking (or leaving, as the case may be) one for the team. I walked to the door of the museum, intrigued, and read the brochure on the wall outside, but couldn’t summon the willpower to fork over the equivalent of $12 for the entry fee. Sorry, there’s only so much I’ll do in the name of reporting for this here blog.

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False Start

The good news is: we finally got some sailing in. The bad news is: it was en route to Husavik, a port on the north coast of Iceland, after a severe gale was forecast for the northeast corner of the island. So we’re sitting here in port for about 12 hours or so, waiting on the force 8 to 10 weather to blow past.

We’d seen this storminess — the remnants of Hurricane Irene, I believe — on the forecasts for some time, but earlier prognostications had it well beyond the northeast corner by the time we got there. My watch last night — I’m back on with the Finnish couple — saw the wind start to come up in the final 45 minutes, just before 9pm. We had the mainsail (with two reefs) and the staysail out and though we were still motoring, we’d pulled the revs back more and more as the wind built. When we came back on 3am, the engine was off and Boogie had already turned Polar Bear around. We were reaching in anywhere from 5 to 25 knots of wind; the wind was up and down in crazily wide swings as we made our way southwest back to port.

Husavik is Iceland’s premiere whale-watching town and is a tourist center that has also retained its commercial-fishing emphasis as well. I’ve not seen much — Polar Bear was here in July, when I was back in the U.S. — and I likely won’t get much chance, but the view from the sea is quite lovely: rolling, green hills to the east while steep, alpine peaks line the western shore of the bay. Houses line the bluffs that form the north side of the harbor and and reach just a tiny bit into the hills behind. It’s cute, to be honest, with the commercial fishing on the south edge of the port giving it a gritty edge. Put Husavik on the list for later exploration.

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Migration

Quarter past eight in the morning here in Akureyri, and we’ll be throwing off the lines in about an hour or so, heading for the Shetland Islands. With that in mind, gonna fire one off the cuff here…

Appropriately enough for Sept. 1, the climb up the hill to the pool complex this morning was filled with signs of the imminent seasonal change as flocks and flocks of geese poured across the sky. All V’ed up and honking merrily along, the flocks continued in a steady stream overhead while I took a final swim/hot tub (the slide was closed…dammit!).

Yesterday, the local youth nordic ski team was doing dryland training on the long stairway leading up the hill to the church overlooking town. And the woman in the tourist office at the harbor said that her shop would be closing after the visit of the final cruise ship of the season on Friday.

And now, sitting in the town square just off the harbor, the high overcast obscures the sun in a way that portends snow. It won’t, of course (not today anyway; after all, I’m sitting outside in the town square and am quite comfortable.

But like the geese this morning, Polar Bear and its crew will be headed south very shortly, the short northern summer having come to a close…the very definition of bittersweet.

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