The Life of the Icelander Jón Ólafsson, Traveller to India, Written by Himself and Completed about 1661 A.D. by Bertha S. Phillpotts

Author:Bertha S. Phillpotts [Phillpotts, Bertha S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nonfiction, History, Modern, 17th Century
ISBN: 9781317025504
Publisher: Taylor and Francis
Published: 2017-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIX

WHEN we had stayed six days at Kildin we felt a desire to depart thence on our homeward journey. Two days previously the admiral, captain and lieutenant had purchased beforehand the catch of one whole day’s fishing in fifty-two of their boats, by which they made a triple profit. My good comrade Jón Halldórsson and I cleaned all the fish which fell to the share of the lieutenant, who was a Swede1, and he gave each of us a rixdollar and a bottle of excellent wine as long as our toil lasted.

Before the Finnish arid Russian fishermen of those regions touch their boats or fishing-gear in the morning, they repair to the great crucifix which stands on the spit of land2 by the harbour not far from their booths3, huts and settlements, and there they fall down and worship before it. These people eat hard salted fare, and drink brandy as if it were water, and in one drink they will swallow a pint and a half. But of this no more.

Thereupon we set our course out of the harbour and towards home, and came to Vardø castle, where King Hans was governor, and he welcomed us warmly.

During our sojourn there it happened one morning that we went ashore with our boat fully manned. The crew was to fetch water, but among them were gunners, the cook and the cellar-boy, the under-captain and the admiral’s sister’s son, Jens Brandt; and our purpose in going ashore was to fetch back our linen from the wash. Now it so chanced that the boat’s crew had forgotten the bailer, and a storm sprang up from the south-east, the distance from the ship to the land being fully half a league. Most of us were somewhat drunk. As the squall grew in strength the boat shipped seas, but we could not bail. The boat was heavily laden, for there were fifty-two barrels on board, and so at last it capsized and filled; yet it did not sink altogether, but floated water-logged. No help came from the admiral’s ship, though a small boat was on deck, for men feared to go out in it in a high sea, and indeed it would have been no use on account of its small size, even if they had ventured to launch it. But those in the other vessels, which lay further out, could not see what was happening, because our own ship blocked their view of us. But by signals, waving and shouting on our ship they at last got help sent to us. We lost five men in all including our cook, who died three days later. Jens Brandt and I sat in the bows, and for that reason we were first rescued. We lay in bed one day, some not at all, and others a week or less.

Two days later we left Vardø and reached the coast of Finmark and Hálogaland1. The snow still lay in many places, though it was about Midsummer Day when we arrived.

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