When we boys in  Porkeri  were 10-12 years old, we often went to the river down by the church. There were small salmon, which we call “sjallar” (small brook trout) in the river. They stood under the stones. When there was little water in the river we moved the stones, so they came out and we could catch them. We often did that. I remember that once there was this large boulder in the water. We moved the boulder with a large wooden stick, and out came 3-4 small humanlike figures. I think they were about one foot tall, they had legs and arms. They did not run away – it was very strange – suddenly they were gone, but later we could all remember this. I am the last of the boys alive today.

We were often at sea in a rowing boat. My cousin and I were in a boat in the fjord, fishing rockfish. We often did that. Once we got our hands on an old muzzle loader, which was used for shooting birds. One day we rowed out on the fjord, it was a calm day, no wind, and there were many puffins and guillemots. We had to load with gunpowder and we had a cork to load with. We shot into a flock of birds, which was so close that about 20 birds died with one shot. Actually, it could have been very dangerous; as such an old gun could easily have exploded. We did not think of that then.

We children were always supposed to help out, especially in the outfield, e.g. by cutting and drying peat. In the summer we laid the peat on the ground in the outfield, and carried it down to the village in a sack on our backs in the winter. At one end of the sack a cap was sewn on, so we could carry the weight with our heads, and in that way it was easier to hold our balance, when the terrain was difficult. All the children helped.

I remember this one time when we were with my mother and father in the outfield, collecting the thin peat. When my father was on his way down with the peat, he fell and broke his leg. The doctor lived in  Tvøroyri .  He arrived several hours later my father’s leg had to be amputated, and he was disabled. As he was the only breadwinner we children had to help out. My mother was a strong woman, and now she had to carry the heavy load pf raising us children.

When we were 11 or 12 we had to go to  Vágur and work in the drying of cod to earn some money. There was no road, so we walked 5 kilometres along a path to Vágur every day. I was the eldest, 12 years old, and we all had to help. It was a hard time.     

The roads came gradually. I remember that there were no roads in my childhood and youth. The first road from Porkeri to Vágur came in the early thirties, and it was a gravel road. We did not get the big roads with connections to all the towns and villages until about 1960. I have lived through all this development.

When my mother was young she salted and washed fished in Tvøroyri. She had to walk across the mountains and only came home Saturdays to see her family. She told me later that it was very hard. Before there were roads we rarely visited in other villages. We could travel by ferry, the Smyril, to Tórshavn, but because the Smyril put in at every town and village on the way the trip lasted 4-5 hours.

We did not exactly suffer any hardship, but I remember that when my mother went to other villages to sell goods, we 4 brothers and sisters often had to stay home alone and look after ourselves. She did not get home till the next morning, and when she had fed us she went up in the “haugen” – the outfield – to milk the cows. It was like that all the time – it was a difficult time. Sometimes farmers who had too much corn fetched my mother to thresh their corn, and as payment she could take some corn home. It was ground on the grinding mill. In this way we got enough to eat. There were also a few other families in the village who did not have enough to eat, so they were helped by those who had more than they needed. Occasionally the worst distress was relieved when the pilot whales came and supplemented our diet. The whales were always chased into Vágur because there was no sandy beach in Porkeri. When the   pilot wales  come into low water the sand is whirled up and it blinds them. Then they swim straight onto the beach.       Whaling in the Faroe Islands

I remember that a house next door burned to the ground when I was a boy. My father offered the family shelter, and they lived with us for a year and a half. All that time, we were sixteen people ina small houseof about 60 square metres. It was not so difficult back then because you learned to adjust.

When I was 14 years old I went fishing with a sloop near Iceland for 3 months. As a beginner I found it very hard. We fished with hand lines and the sinkers were heavy. It was a long time, before I could keep up with the others. Eventually I got the training. In February we fished near south Iceland and got home at the end of May. In the late twenties and early thirties we fished near the Faroese harbour in Greenland , called “ Færingehavn   (D).

It often took 8 to 14 days to get up there. We had a small auxiliary engine, but it was not much help. We were dependent on the sails. Back then we didn’t have permission to fish inside the reefs in Greenland, but because there were many fish there we defied the ban.

We were once caught by the Danish fisheries inspection vessel and were towed to “Føroyingahavnin”. We had to stay there for 14 days, and were given a fine. The temptation was too big; there were so many fish by the reefs that when the shoals came we could take them with our bare hands. When we got back from Greenland we worked drying cod in Vágur, to earn some extra money.  

Other times we sailed out in May and didn’t come home until October, when the season was over. We competed for the chance to get on the ships with the best skippers. Some of them had more luck than others.

In 1940 I sailed with a sloop from Vágur, the “Aldan”, a sailing ship with auxiliary engine. We loaded fish in Vágur and sailed it to Aberdeen . We had 5 or 6 trips where we carrying fish to  Great Britain , and we earned a lot of money. Once two men from Porkeri, Johan Christiansen and I, had signed on as mates and were to sail from Vágur to Aberdeen. Before we were to leave Vágur, Johan and I went to Porkeri to say our goodbyes to our families. South of the village Johan suddenly says, “I am not going”. - “What are you saying!” I said, “The ship is full fish and ready to sail, and if you are not going we will be a mate short.”

“No, I’m not going!” he said. I came home to my wife and told her that Johan was not going. She said,” Then you are not going either.” She was pregnant. I still wanted to go, but she was firm and insisted on my not going – in the end I obeyed her. The master’s brother-in-law went instead. The “Aldan” never came back. It was the first Faroese ship to go down during in  the Second World War . It left Vágur and never came back. There were rumours that the Germans had taken it and towed it to Norway   , but people were just guessing. Probably the ship got blown up and went down with all hands.

Later I sailed with a sloop from Vágur, called the “Vilhelmine”. I was the mate and made two trips transporting fish from Iceland to Great Britain. We were lucky, everything went well.

From 1948 to 1952 I sailed with my brother-in-law from Viðoy, on a schooner called the “Viðoy”. We fished near Norway, and in 1953 we were near Svalbard . There was a lot of ice and it was very cold. Before leaving Vágur, I had been to see the doctor about stomach ache. When we were near Svalbard the pain grew worse and worse. When we arrived at Klaksvík around harvest time I only weighed 60 kg and was taken to hospital, to the disputed Danish doctor, Halvorsen. After two days, he told me that I had too much acidity of the stomach. For a whole year I had been taken the wrong medicine because the doctor in Vágur had given me a wrong diagnosis, and I got well quite soon after that. Halvorsen was a popular and good doctor. I signed off and went home to Porkeri to have a rest.

At school I had a  Faroese teacher, Danbjørg, and we had to only talk and write Danish in the Danish  lessons. When I passed the examination for my master’s certificate, we were to write in Danish. The Danish teacher told me that I wrote perfect Danish. That’s how good my Faroese teacher was.

Most people in Porkeri were either married to someone from the home village or someone from one of the nearby villages. Some people found their partners among the recently arrived people from the Northern Islands – Kunoy , Viðoy , Svinoy , Kalsoy , Borðoy , or  Fugloy – who got jobs in Suðuroy .  Some of the young men got educations or apprenticeships in Tórshavn and found girls there. We rarely went to *the Ólavøku because it was too much trouble. When I was young few people went to Denmark. It was only the rich people in Tórshavn  , who could afford to send their children to Denmark to be educated. Fishermen with small earnings could not afford that.   The   Ólavsøka is a national festival which is held in Tórshavn on 28 July every year.

Tape-recorded by  Erik Christensen ,   Porkeri,  10-01  2003   

And translated from Danish into English by 2a ,  Miðnámsskúlin í Suðuroy , Vágur in November 2005