Moving Elves at Vestmannaeyjar Island (Heimaey)

By Sarah Hamilton

While on the Vestmann Islands, we went on a group walk along the coast looking at the rock formations.  When we reached the end of the planned hike, most of us decided we wanted to continue on to look for a puffin colony on the other side of the island.  We walked along the cliffs overlooking the sea, running into sheep and getting the the chance to pet an Icelandic horse.
5B7C7495It became clear that the puffin colony was much farther away than we’d anticipated, and with the puffin site growing no larger, we eventually admitted defeat and turned back.  We crossed over to the road for our walk back and passed what we took to be construction.
A (mechanic) crane sat in the yard of a cute little log cabin, dangling ropes that were strapped to an enormous brown rock.  Men and a tractor pulled at the rock from below, making little progress in orienting it the way they seemed to want. 5B7C7509-001
We stood looking at the rock and the crane for so long that a man emerged from his car in the yard to speak with us. He told us that the rock had been brought here from Reykjavik at the request of the man who owned the house. The rock, which looked ordinary enough to untrained eyes, was actually the two-story home of a three generation elf family.  The elves had saved the owner of the home when he was in a car wreck.  In gratitude, the man had asked them to if he could move them to a lovely place by the sea. After all, the elves’ rock home was marked to be destroyed to go under a road.
The man who owned the house had contacted a "seer", one who could see and speak with elves, who told him that the elves agreed, but only if their windows faced the sea, an admittedly spectacular view. The rock was currently in the process of being moved to face the sea.  We chuckled a bit in appreciation of his story, each of us figuring he was telling a tall tale to tourists, just waiting for him to break character and laugh along with us.
He did not.
5B7C7493Instead, he motioned a woman to get out of a car nearby. He told us to ask the woman if we were disturbing the elves. We asked the woman to relay the question.  I expected her to have no idea what we were talking about, or play along clumsily. Instead, she immediately said that we were not disturbing the elves. She gave us the exact same story that the man originally had.  We learned that she was the Seer, the one who negotiated with the elves, and she told us that the three generations of elves were eating honey in a nearby basket of wool. We peered into the basket, but as none of us were particularly specially sighted, we saw only wool.  The grandfather was very weak, said the Seer, and he, his children, and their three kids were all in the basket eating honey. They were 35 cm tall (they live under the wool in the picture above).
It was becoming clear that this was no joke.  We were not the only ones watching the rock placement.  All around us were men with cameras, including the man who had originally told us the story of the elves.  Some cameras were from the news, and a few were involved in doing a documentary on the man who owned the house, the new host to three generations of elves.
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We spoke with a young man from Greenland who told us that the owner of the house was in a fact an Icelandic Senator, Arni Johnsen. I asked the young man if he was quite serious about this, to which the young man seemed to take slight offense. Of course he was serious. Everyone was deadly serious about this elf relocation project.
Finally, the heavy rock was oriented correctly, windows toward the sea. Gently, slowly, the elf Seer woman brought the basket of wool to the door of the home and one-by-one placed the elves on their porch. The cameras surrounded her solemn ceremony. Though the elves did not allow anyone besides her to see them, we cheered when they were finally inside.
We went on our way with a promise of good weather from the elves, and were not disappointed in the next few days. We’ve also had some excellent luck since.
It could be chance, of course. There are rocks next to me now. They could be basalt.
But they would also make a lovely three story home for any elf family.