Before inhabiting the old schoolhouse in the Westfjords we are currently staying, we spent a week in Dalvik. Surrounded by windows allowing us a view of the mountains encircling us, we ate a candle-lit dinner. Toasts were made and chips were dipped! The following day we left for a whale-watching venture on the fishing vessel Mani. The waves were rocky and luckily our stomachs were, by then, mostly empty of the large meal of the night before. Whatever remained in our stomachs from the morning's meal was certainly emptied by the time Mani docked again. Most of us headed toward the side and back of the boat in order to, as my friend Walker put it, "vom-bomb." I, naturally, was "vom-bombing" as we spotted the whales. Those who had not thrown-up expressed feeling left out by being one of the few who had not participated in the then communal activity. I think we were all glad to later visit the very stationary boats exhibited in the Herring Museum Siglufjordur. Despite being sick at sea, I could not help but admire the deep, but muted, gray-blue of the water and love the smell and taste of the salty air!
A couple days later, having learned from experience, as I headed to Grimsey (a tiny island North of Iceland's mainland and in the arctic circle) I decided to take a sea-sickness pill. I, drugged, proceeded to spend the two 3-hour ferry rides sleeping and my time in Grimsey consisted of a groggy Chimera walking around trying to keep her eyes open long enough so as to snap some shots of puffins and the miniature church adorned with the traditional red roof.
Ya know, I still dig it. The Ocean. Boats. Iceland. I still get excited even just thinking about it. I mean, I touched the arctic ocean. I even contributed something of my own into its water....;)