John McPhee, “The Control of Nature”

The port of Haimaey, Iceland, as we saw it in August, 2021. One of the two mountains dates to 1973.
The town exists today because of an incredible effort to stop the lava from this emerging volcano.

In 1973, in the small port town of Haimaey in the Westman Islands of Iceland, a volcano erupted, suddenly creating a mountain just outside the town, where a peaceful dairy farm had stood. In 1988, John McPhee published an account, "Cooling the Lava," describing the unique effort of Haimaey’s population to save the harbor and the town. 

The 5000 residents were aided by the government and volunteers from the entire nation of Iceland, and by the American military. Miraculously, and by incredible effort, ingenuity, and luck, they saved at least part of the town and above all, saved the harbor from becoming land-locked. 

McPhee, a very highly respected writer, spent some months in the1980s interviewing many of the people who had been involved in the effort. His article. subsequently published in his book The Control of Nature (1989), is fascinating, readable, and not in any way obsolete. It’s in fact a pleasure to read, as are many of his other works.

When the eruption started, people had to flee homes that were being overpowered by the flow of lava from the emerging volcanic peak. Evacuation by sea and by air saved many families and even some chickens and sheep from the dangers of volcanic heat, ash, and toxic fumes. Many people who left never returned to see their destroyed homes. But the town is now fully occupied, and the port is very busy, despite many changes since McPhee wrote.

"Not merely was Heimaey's harbor the best harbor along the three hundred miles of Iceland's south coast, it was the only one." (p. 98)

Although small, Heimaey was a vital port for the Icelandic fishing industry, which at the time was a major part of Icelandic exports. When it appeared that lava would close the mouth of the harbor, desperate measures were chosen -- namely, to spray cooling water on the advancing lava. McPhee documents how at first this seemed futile. Who dares to think of stopping a volcano? But the port was saved. It's unprovable whether cooling the lava really stopped the lava, but it seems that it did.

Sheep and puffins on a hillside in the Westman Islands. "The puffin is among the nations' emblematic birds. With its bright-white chest, its orange webbed feet, and its bir orange scimitar bill, it could be an iced toucan." (p. 75)

   

"On the sixth day, the wind veered southwest, and the ashfall returned to the ocean. The town seemed covered by deep black snow. Many houses were discernible only as dunes in the tephra. If they burned, they left kettle-shaped pits. ... When real snow fell, it made a black-and-white, silvery, surrealist world." (p. 111)
Image from my trip in 2021, showing the tranquil and colorful little town below the volcano.

This church was built in 2000 on lava that flowed into the old harbor during the 1973 eruption.  It was a gift from Norway, and is a replica of a Norwegian medieval church from the Viking era.
I took this photo from the bus we took to see the island. You can learn more here.

The Viking church seen from the ship.
Both the level ground and the wall behind it were created by the volcano.

Lava came very close to this house, though there's surely been a lot of rebuilding in nearly 50 years.
You can see a sort of trench that was a result of the lava's advance.

Our ship in the harbor of Haimaey.

A town that has recovered from an existential threat worse than war. 

What was it like?

"The ash was typically about as large as bits of pea gravel. They fell by the millions -- hot enough and sharp enough to burn and cut skin. The bombs were ejections of molten lava that flew high into the air, became spherical, and with contained gases, sometimes exploded like fireworks. In their interiors, bombs were generally molten. After they landed and broke, red-hot liquid poured out." (p. 102-103) 

"The ash in the streets was dense enough to drive on, even where it was fifteen and twenty feet deep.... The gas [carbon monoxide] came over the lip of the crater, flowed downhill, and went through the town like a river. When humidity was high, the river was visible, with its eddies of blue haze. It suffocated cats. It stalled cars. People's heads were generally above it, but knees and elbows ached, breathing became labored, hearts pounded." (p.132-133)

McPhee's combination of tour-de-force writing with amazingly highlighted details of the Icelandic fight against the lava, and the ultimate preservation of the town is beyond impressive. I can see why his books are used as models for students of expository prose. 

I'm already fascinated with volcanic activity, so I also appreciated McPhee's digression into the history of the volcanic activity on the Big Island of Hawaii (where I've also traveled) and his comparison with the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and the fate of ancient Pompeii, which he compares to the Icelandic events. Of course Iceland has experienced other high-profile eruptions since 1973, and more are inevitable. I'm most sympathetic to them as well as to this week's victims of the eruption of the volcano in the Pacific island nation of Tonga. Real life is dangerous in so many ways!

Review and all photos © 2022 mae sander.