Súðavík
It was early morning on a January day in 1995. The small fishing town (population: roughly 200) of Súðavík was resting peacefully until, in the blink of an eye, a 400-meter-wide avalanche thundered down the side of the fjord and leveled fifteen homes.
Immediately, a distress call was sent to Ísafjörður and the unaffected residents got to work digging out survivors. To make matters worse, the weather made it difficult to send help to Súðavík. Four people were found at first, and then 11 more in the following hours.
Help finally arrived two hours after the avalanche. Search and Rescue, rescue dogs, and doctors arrived by boat.
The danger wasn’t over yet. Around 4:30pm the same day, a second, smaller avalanche hit the other side of town, destroyed more homes and knocking out power to the town.
23 hours after the avalanche, the last survivor was recovered: a 10-year-old boy.
14 people total were killed. 8 were children.
Left traumatized by the avalanche, none of the survivors in Súðavík wanted to return. The town was completely rebuilt in a different location, further in the fjord. While some houses still stand in the old town, an overnight stay there in the winter is forbidden. For Súðavík, this avalanche is a touchy subject, and is often referred to as “The Accident.”
Flateyri
Again, the year is 1995. October. It had been months since the Súðavík disaster. Flateyri (population: 270) is probably the most risky place to live in Iceland. Situated between two of the most active avalanche paths in the country, even before 1995 children were not allowed to play in a certain part of the town.
It comes as no surprise, then, that Flateyri too was hit by an avalanche in 1995. 29 homes were destroyed and 45 people were buried, 20 of whom died. Most of the homes hit had been deemed “safe” by previous avalanche risk maps that were mandated in 1985.
Flateyri responded far differently to their avalanche than Súðavík did. While even more people died, the people of this town have come to accept that they are living at the mercy of Mother Nature.
They responded quickly to the disaster and constructed two deflecting dams on the outskirts of town to redirected snow from the two known avalanche paths. 70% of the people who lived in this town returned to live there again when the mess had been cleaned up, and life returned to normal.
Since it is in the next fjord over from Ísafjörður, we visited Flateyri this afternoon and got to see the deflecting dams for ourselves. They weren’t quite as large as I imagined, and it felt eerie standing in such a dangerous spot. I couldn’t help but think, at any moment, the slope could give way and bury us all in seconds, just as it has done many times before.
In fact, it happened most recently in January 2020. Both avalanche paths were set off. The first was successfully reflected by the dam into the harbor, causing a tsunami that destroyed almost the entire fishing fleet. The second actually spilled over the dam, hitting a house. A fifteen-year-old girl had to be dug out of her bedroom, having been trapped in the snow for thirty minutes.
Avalanches are a reality of life for Flateyri. A memorial has been put up for the victims of the 1995 event near the church, but life goes on. This is a small but happy town, with various artist residencies and an ice rink. Filmmakers visit frequently, and they are slowly but surely rebuilding their fishing fleet.
Ísafjörður
While Ísafjörður has not had any major avalanche incidents, we did visit the barriers put in place to protect the town from avalanches as a precaution. When they were first proposed, there were protests in Reykjavík by environmentalist groups. They opposed ruining the natural beauty of the fjord (which they only visited in the summer months), but the people of Ísafjörður knew it was necessary for their safety. The walls and dams were built, and the town is safer for it.
Anika Tullos 