How to prevent tragedy in a land of fierce nature

Also the story of two letters, two debts, and two marriages that never came to pass

We are at the end of a long weekend here in Iceland, the Verslunarmannahelgi, which is our version of Labour Day.

This weekend is the unofficial winding down of summer. The cogs of Icelandic society, which basically grind to a halt in July, start turning again, and soon schools will be back in session, arts institutions will be announcing their winter programmes, and folks will have their noses to the grindstone at work once again.

We as a society are hurting due to a tragic event this past weekend. A nine-year-old girl died after being caught by a wave at Reynisfjara beach, one of Iceland’s most popular (and dangerous) tourist attractions. Her sister and father, who were also caught by the wave, managed to scramble to safety, but the little girl was pulled out to sea, and drowned.

Photo by Denys Nevozhai on Unsplash

This is the fourth drowning in Reynisfjara in recent years. All have been foreign tourists.

I do not know the circumstances of this particular accident, so I will not pass judgement. I only know that many people who visit that beach seem completely oblivious to the extreme hazards there, despite large warning signs near the entrance to the beach.

Each time a fatality happens there is a loud debate about what should be done. Should a guard be posted at the beach 24/7? Would that even help, given how many people get tetchy or even irate when they are told to stay back from the surf? Should the beach be closed off entirely, and would that stop people from entering? How do you close off an entire beach, anyway?

I don’t know if it’s possible to do more to prevent tragic events like the one that happened last weekend, or what should be done. Someone mentioned creating a memorial to the people who have died in Reynisfjara at the entrance to the beach—perhaps a basalt column for each person who has died, with the dates of their death, their nationality, and their ages. As well as honouring the deceased, this might possibly make people think before they ventured too close to the waves.

Behind the paywall I am continuing my discussion of Icelandic society in centuries past and how children were auctioned off to the lowest bidder. The hreppur, or district, paid an allowance with each child, and this allowance accumulated as a debt that the remaining parent had to pay back. Until it was paid, the parent was denied certain rights, including the right to marry again. They were forced into servitude—something called Vistarband—at other farms, where if you were a young and healthy male you might receive a nominal payment, but if you were a woman you received nothing at all.

Meaning you would never be able to pay back the debt.