The Saturday of 22nd of January, 1983, was a fateful day in the lives of the people liv­ing in the town Pat­reks­fjörður. The day started out as any other Saturday, except for the fact that there was to be a Þorra­blót celebration in the even­ing. Þorra­blót is an ancient Nordic tradition in celebration of the Nordic Gods, where people eat old, traditional Icelandic food and drink the local alcoholic beverage Brenni­vín.

Ther­efore, the people of Pat­reks­fjörður were quite excited for the even­ing to come.

Heavy rain in the previous night

There had been an unusual amount of rain the night before and rescue groups were quite busy with shovel­ing snow from rooftops, dra­in­ing water from basem­ents that had lea­ked in the previous night, and clearing dra­inage holes.

At around ten in the morn­ing the head of the Depart­ment of Civil Protection and Emergency Mana­gement, Guðjón Petersen, called the District Commissioner of Pat­reks­fjörður, Stefán Skarp­héð­ins­son, to tell him that the Icelandic Met Office had issued an avalanche warning for the area. The dan­ger was high in Pat­reks­fjörður, and ther­efore it was import­ant to keep a close eye on the situation.

About a half an hour after the phone call between Guðjón and Stefán, an announcement and been sent to the main govern­ment TV and radio station, RÚV, warning the people of Pat­reks­fjörður to be careful due to increased likelihood of an avalanche.

Children playing near the canyon

Later that day, the people had started to pay extra attention to the Geirs­eyr­ar­gil canyon, although there was not an estimated dan­ger of an avalanche from the canyon. People working for the town were working hard to keep the route through the canyon as clear as possi­ble.

Despite all the hard work that day, water had started to flood profu­sely into the town and through the streets. The main focus at that point became to keep all dra­inage holes open, so as to avoid damage of property.

A few children had gathered near the canyon, sli­ding together, and play­ing in the snow. When Pétur Sveins­son, the chief of police in the area, thought he noticed somet­hing strange about the canyon, he immedi­ately went and gathered the children, and led them away from the area. One of the children was his own son. All the children went back to their own homes, except for one, that went home with Pétur and his son. That tur­ned out to be a fateful decision, as that particular boy lived in one of the houses that ended up being hit by the flood.

„I saw the flood tearing down from the canyon“

Soon after Pétur arri­ved home with the two boys, they heard a loud bang. When they looked outside the liv­ing room window, they saw a 15-meter-high tsunami hitt­ing two houses and then tear­ing onwards.

Shortly after that, huge water poles tore up through the air at the canyon’s entryway, followed by a large liquified avalanche, a slush flood, that was later described like a wall that only grew as it drew closer to the town. Shortly ther­eaf­ter, another flood hit the town. Twenty houses were destroyed in the floods and four people lost their lives.

„I saw the flood tear­ing down from the canyon and the houses being shredded in the process. After that, I could only think about gett­ing inside my house, to my fiancé, “ Helgi Páll Pálmason said to the newspaper Morg­un­blaðið shortly after the events.

„You can never put a price on human life“

„I cannot, by any means, describe how I felt when I saw the flood erupt from the canyon, nor how long it took. I thought it must have been about four met­ers high – but I cannot be completely sure. The damage here is catastrophic. Even though worldly possessions have not been estimated yet, you can never put a price on human life. I want to deli­ver my gratitude to all those who helped us with the rescue operation. Without their help, it would not have been as successful, “ said Úlfar Thorodd­sen, who saved him­self by runn­ing from the flood.

„When the first flood erupted, I was in the build­ing Bræðra­borg, by Litla­dalsá river, pump­ing water from a basem­ent. Then, I heard men yell­ing about a flood erupt­ing from the canyon. When I looked I saw the flood tear­ing down the hill and hitt­ing the houses, “ said Haraldur Karlsson, the head of the Iceland Association for Search and Resque. He was one of the first to arrive at the scene.

The names of the people who lost their lives in the slush floods in Pat­reks­fjörður in 1983 were:

Marteinn Ólafur Péturs­son, born 9th of December, 1941, 42 years old; Sigrún Guð­brandsdóttir, born 3rd of December, 1976, 6 years old; Sigurbjörg Sig­urð­ardóttir, born 13th of August, 1924, 58 years old, and Val­gerður Jónsdóttir, born 23rd of January, 1906, 77 years old.

This Rearview Mirror was orig­inally written in Icelandic by Harpa Mjöll Reyn­is­dóttir.