{"id":46420,"date":"2021-06-13T19:36:40","date_gmt":"2021-06-13T19:36:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/dev6.blazedream.in\/ICSF\/samudra\/passage"},"modified":"2021-08-13T07:26:42","modified_gmt":"2021-08-13T07:26:42","slug":"passage","status":"publish","type":"samudra","link":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/samudra\/passage\/","title":{"rendered":"Passage"},"content":{"rendered":"
Passage<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n The Trollfjord is a narrow fjord in Lofoten, northern Norway, with a large seasonal cod fishery. In 1890, a steamer closed the opening of the fjord with a net and wanted to charge small-scale fishers a fee to enter. Enlarged, they attacked the steamer and broke through the net. This historic incident led to new regulations for the Lofoten fishery. The use of seines was banned and lift-nets limited to a few areas.<\/span><\/p>\n The Battle in the Trollfjord<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n A ballad written by N.D. in April 1890<\/span><\/p>\n You hear from everywhere And in the Trollfjord, Four ships were on guard This the fishers did not like Which side was right for, You know, our industry The Trollfjord<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n by Cornelius Moe, written in 1939<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span><\/p>\n There is a legend about the devil His lodgings were far from regal. \u0093So, the house has become agreeable, A summer day We didn’t see much Then we were inside, in the basin of the fiord. Pieces of mountain in chaos And under the peaks Words failed us The castle of giants, oh yes, but a memory I see them so clearly, through to this day: For, at the mouth of the fjord, sprawled across, We have closed the whole opening. And there, beside the giants, Then the steamer was boarded The wind is whistling old stories And closing in behind us, free translation from the Norwegian by Gunnar Album<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Passage The Trollfjord is a narrow fjord in Lofoten, northern Norway, with a large seasonal cod fishery. In 1890, a steamer closed the opening of the fjord with a net and wanted to charge small-scale fishers a fee to enter. Enlarged, they attacked the steamer and broke through the net. This historic incident led to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"template":"","meta":[],"tags":[],"region":[],"source":[],"country":[],"state":[],"city":[],"samudra_category":[5293],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/samudra\/46420"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/samudra"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/samudra"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=46420"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=46420"},{"taxonomy":"region","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/region?post=46420"},{"taxonomy":"source","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/source?post=46420"},{"taxonomy":"country","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/country?post=46420"},{"taxonomy":"state","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/state?post=46420"},{"taxonomy":"city","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/city?post=46420"},{"taxonomy":"samudra_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/samudra_category?post=46420"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nthat the fisheries are good:
\nBut where there are big fish,
\nthere are small ones as well.
\nSome have tried to catch the cod
\nby closing the fjord with a seine;
\nbut there is nothing against that,
\nneither from the king nor the law.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nhere the other day,
\nwe got a taste of this;
\nbut it ends as it usually does
\nyou stroke the cat until
\nyou get scratched yourself.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nwith chains and with ropes,
\nwhile half the fiord was covered in ice
\nand the fishery was drained.
\nAnd the price of entry
\nwas to pay for a share.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nas catches were so low.
\nA war was thus declared
\nand a water hose used.
\nThis was in the morning,
\nbut by noon the steamers had
\nlowered their flags.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nis really hard to tell
\nbecause feelings are mixed
\non fencing in the cod. But if,
\nfrom land and out to the isle of Rost
\nthe ocean was sealed with a net,
\nthen I think our voice
\nwould not bear a friendly tone<\/span><\/p>\n
\nhere in the north is but fisheries
\nand if, for the good of all,
\nit should remain so,
\nit should certainly be done at sea.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span><\/p>\n
\nbeing arrested by his great grandmother.
\nHe was expelled from the comfort of home
\nto a cold place in the high north,
\nto a hole in the mountains of Lofoten,
\nto a cavern under stones and scree
\nwhere the icewater dripped down his neck
\nthere sat His Highness, and froze.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nAs can be expected, time stood still
\nand he found he could do an awful lot
\nto make his abode less cramped.
\nAt night, he ran and kicked and scratched
\nso hard that the mountain walls broke
\nand the mountain split up
\nout to the Raftsund;
\nThus the sea came rolling in.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nsaid the devil, as he stuffed his pipe.
\n\u0093Now we have a comfortable mansion
\nfor trolls and similar rabble.
\nAnd the trolls swarmed and crawled
\ninto the midst of their mountain home
\nand grinned down into
\nthe mirror of the fjord
\nand gave it its proper name.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nwe stood on deck;
\nthe boat glided easily
\ninto a narrow chink.
\nWe saw just a splinter of the blue sky
\nas a ribbon between
\nthe mountain peaks,
\na vertical wall cutting upwards
\nlike the edge of a knife.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nas we slowly slipped in
\nthrough the trollcastle gate,
\nonly a woman who, frightened and scared,
\npointed her head to a loose pile of rocks,
\nand said, \u0093God, if it fell, it would kill us like flies
\ncrushed to atoms. That risk is too gross.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nWe stood there, spellbound, watching the scene
\nIt must be so, for spirits and the riff-raff.
\nThis is the work of the Devil!
\nThe trollfence around, with peaks and glaciers,
\ngiants frozen, mountain sides drenched,
\nicicles hanging
\nicerivers frowning
\nrockjaws grinning
\nand black, black cliffs.<\/span><\/p>\n
\naround dancing waterfalls
\ntwisting and bending.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nand around their necks
\na collar of glaciers
\nsparkling icegreen.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nat the savagery of the place.
\nWe stood there in a shudder.
\nWhat a cubistic panorama of creation!
\nA devilishly captivating disharmony…
\nUgly or beautiful?
\nTerrifying? Impressive?
\nWell, at any rate, inspiring it was.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nof the struggles amongst men reached out to me
\nas we made our way out of the summer blue bay
\nand whistled farewell to the highest of mountains,
\nhere, where the devil himself was the landlord,
\nhere ensued the famous battle of the Trollflord.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nA fishing fleet, coming by oar or by sail,
\narrayed for battle, at the mouth’ of the bay,
\nattacking like Vikings, bound to prevail.
\nAnd furious men in their old fishing garbs,
\nwaving their oarsready to fight.
\nNow we should sock it to them,
\nthe big, the rich and the mean,
\nand the man in the boat
\nshould then claim his rights<\/span><\/p>\n
\nwas a steamer blocking the path
\nwith purse-seines, winches and modern gear.
\nIt whistled and people aboard began proclaiming,
\n\u0093Away, this is our fiord.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nIt is filled to the brim with the finest of cod.
\nNo one will enter through this narrow opening.
\nWe’ve got the power, and we’ve got the rights.”<\/span><\/p>\n
\na battle was fought on this wintry morning:
\nskulls mercilessly battered,
\namidst the waffles, broken necks.
\nBut fiery it became when the captain
\nchose as the sharpest of weapons,
\nsteam from his engine.
\nBut the hose was cut,
\nand after a beastly fight,
\nthe eager victors
\nflung him overboard.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nby hundreds of fishers
\nwho slashed i:s ropes and sunk its nets
\nand into the Trollfjord they sailed,
\nfishing in peace until their boats were brimful.
\nBut the steamer left, yearning
\nfor its lost glory.
\nBut what was it searching for?
\nThe Trollfjord should be free
\nlike all other oceans.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nof the anguish of poor fishers,
\nforced to attack men with money,
\nshowing no mercy.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nthe gate of the Devil
\ngrins at us,
\nas we are pushed to our places
\nat the railing.
\nAnd the Trollfjord glimmers,
\ndisappearing behind us.<\/span><\/p>\n