Iceland Day 11 – Húsavík Day 2, Whale Watching

Friday September 5, Húsavík Day 2, Whale Watching

On our second day in Húsavík, as the morning brightened from black to dull flat gray, the sounds of both the traffic on the main street right out our window and the raindrops increased. The infrequent wind gusts ripped more often and more forcefully, whistling at times through our windows, cracked open against the overly warm interior, so common in Iceland, a country where geothermal heat comes for nearly free. Nestled in my duvet, leaving the warm and dry apartment to undertake our planned whale watching trip out on the icy waters of the Skjálfandi Bay seemed so unnecessary. A steaming mug of coffee felt more appropriate on a day perhaps best spent sleeping in and streaming video.

The Náttfari, Our Ride for the Morning

For giggles, I checked the official forecast at Veðurstofa Íslands, the Icelandic Meteorological Office, to see what we could expect this morning, although I really need not have bothered. The weather in Iceland is dynamic and fairly unpredictable and short of a major storm warning, life goes on regardless of the weather. The forecast below was not particularly happy for our 0900 to 1200 whale watching trip, but Icelanders carry on, rain or shine.

Rain in the Forecast

At the grocery store yesterday, I bought a tub of skyr, an Icelandic dairy product that is similar to a cross between yogurt and a fresh cheese. I thought that Ann would like it with her blueberries for breakfast and I wanted to try it so that I would understand it, even though I have problems digesting much dairy. I found it less acidic, creamier, and thicker than yogurt with a definite cheesy flavor. I now appreciate what it is, but I regretted eating it almost immediately. Eating it before sailing was probably not the smartest idea that I have ever had.

Ed Tries Skyr; Skyr Does Not Like Ed

After breakfast and after putting on our rain pants and jackets, at 0830, we walked the few meters to the office of North Sailing, the oldest whale watching company in Húsavík, a town where whale watching expeditions seem to be the primary industry, commercial fishing aside. The ladies behind the desk did not seem phased by the rainy weather, handing us our boarding pass and directing us to the Náttfari's berth at the pier below. I found it highly coincidental that this was the one boat that I took a sunset photo of last evening, attracted to it because of its twin crow's nests, one fore and one aft.

I took advantage of the few minutes before boarding to wander the docks for some rainy weather photographs.

Common Eider

Black Guillemot in Non-Breeding Plumage
Dead Ringer for Our Pigeon Guillemot

The rain had slacked off when Ann called me over as the crew arrived at the boat to kick things off with a briefing. On arriving at the oaken Náttfari, I noticed that our crew looked extremely familiar. We saw our guide eating a smashburger at the table behind us last evening. His helper was our server. Small world. After the briefing, we boarded and each received a black and neon green jumpsuit, quite the unfashionable statement, but decent protection against the elements. I brought and had expected to wear my own rain gear, which I now stowed in my daypack.

Húsavík as We Departed the Harbor Under Gray Skies

The foredeck, capped with a crow's nest, is open and fitted with ample bench seating which was helpful in struggling into the ungainly jumpsuits. As we got underway, Ann and I moved to the open platform on top of the house and just below the aft crow's nest. To protect my camera, I would shelter under that crow's nest in the worst of the rain which would strike us repeatedly during the trip. The shutter button would subsequently short out temporarily in the afternoon until it dried out. It is a good thing that I brought along a second camera.

As the first of many squalls ripped across Skjálfandi Bay towards us, the crew handed out bright orange rain slickers to go over our jumpsuits. I pulled on my buff as a neck gaiter against the wind and replaced my waterproof baseball cap that the wind promised to hurl overboard with a wool beanie. I felt like the Michelin Man all bundled up in so many layers and wearing those layers prevented me from accessing anything in my pockets. Fortunately, I had stowed our gear in the daypack where we could get to it.

I expected to see few to no whales on our trip, probably as a hedge against disappointment even though our guide said that they see whales on 97 percent of their trips. I need not have worried: while our guide was still briefing us, I saw a humpback roll not two minutes outside the breakwater but could not get the attention of the crew during the briefing. This was not my first time seeing a Humpback and not my last: we would see at least two others with different markings on this sail.

Several times our guide apologized for how rough the sea was, but I barely noticed the sea state, finding it almost smooth compared to most other trips I have taken where I have seen whales. Being up top, I felt the rolls more than down on the deck but they were gentle and predictable. After a few minutes up top, Ann descended to the deck where she witnessed three people puking. I am grateful that I am not prone to sea sickness, knock on wood.

Our trip was a great success, though I have very few photos that are acceptable enough. It was so dark and my lightweight travel lens is so slow that getting the whales in focus was terribly hard. I would have to spend many thousands of dollars for a decent lens and it would be so large as be impractical to travel with without bringing a much bigger box. My current waterproof box fits in my under-seat carry-on bag and it holds two small camera bodies and three small lenses.

In any case, after the initial Humpback, we saw a couple Minkes, then another Humpback that rolled so close and quickly to the boat that I could not even get off a shot. My shots of the Minkes were totally crap. Then a pod of Northern Bottlenose Whales surfaced nearby, a whale species that I have not seen before. Previously, I have seen Humpback, Minke, and Gray whales, Orcas too, but they are dolphins, not whales. After we turned around and headed back towards the harbor, a second pod of Bottlenoses appeared close to us and finally another Humpback rolled, showing its flukes. Bottlenose whales are rare in shallow water; our guide was excited and said we were extremely lucky in that they are rarely seen.

Five Frames of Northern Bottlenose Whales From Two Pods

Notice the Blunt Foreheads
Lundey, Puffin Island, in Background

Flukes of Third Humpback That I Saw

Each Humpback Has a Distinctive Pattern on Bottom of Flukes

We arrived back at the dock just around noon with a tentative plan for the afternoon to visit Ásbyrgi, a unique horseshoe-shaped canyon in Vatnajoküll National Park. Although the sky seemed like it was clearing, the potential for rain and driving 45 minutes each way argued for staying put in Húsavík and resting, especially because we would be driving right by Ásbyrgi tomorrow morning.

The decision made to stay in town, we were pleased that the sun popped out from behind the clouds giving us a chance to see the town without raincoats. After going back to the apartment and changing, we thought to go find some lunch. We ended up at Restaurant Salka for a late lunch, just a few more meters away from the apartment than North Sailing; Húsavík is a compact town.

Broiled Wolffish

Ann's Fish and Chips

Our food was better than we expected and we enjoyed sitting in the cheerful sunny dining room. We had thought to sit outside, but with a constant breeze, the potential for rain at any moment, and the cigarette smokers posted up out front, the dining room was a better choice.

After our leisurely lunch, we wandered about the harbor area and took a bunch of photos, the best of our combined efforts are below.

Shades on for the First Time in Days

Our Apartment, Red Roof Far Right

Drug Eyebright, Kirtilaugnfró, Euphrasia stricta
Growing in the Grass, Never Seen This Plant Before
Unusual in That I Know Most Icelandic Plants at Least by Genus

Before concluding our walk, we stopped in the downtown grocery store because we did not feel like driving to the one on the edge of town. Perhaps we should have made the drive: we were considering a small 250g packet of bacon (in lieu of pancetta) to put in our pasta for dinner, but not at 3.749 ISK or $30.53.

Back at the apartment, I caught a much needed nap, then woke to brilliant sunshine, a rarity so far on our trip. Taking advantage of the gorgeous afternoon, we both put on our sunglasses and headed out onto our porch for appetizers and wine. The brilliant sunshine and 14C temperature were at times too warm and an almost unbelievable juxtaposition with the morning's weather. As we sat looking out over the harbor, Eimskip truck after Eimskip truck pulled away with load after load of seafood, destined for who knows where.

Bright Sun Over Harbor, Showers Over the Hills
Perfect Conditions for Rainbows

Happy Hour in the Sun

On towards dark, I made a green salad from a bunch of living lettuce, a cucumber, a lemon, and olive oil that we had bought a few days prior. Dinner was a simple pasta, rigatoni with jarred pesto. Tomorrow, as we really move into the back half of our trip, we plan to visit Ásbyrgi, Dettifoss, and Stuðlagil, on our way to the Seyðisfjörður in the Eastfjords.