Norwegian immigrants to North America were a hardy breed, and some of their descendants continue to display that resilience.
When they came to the United States, they scoffed at the thought of heading southward where any average human being could survive. Instead, they flowed in great numbers to Minnesota and the Dakotas. Spawned near the arctic, they appreciated the balmy temperature of places like Sioux Falls and Fargo.
The Norwegianest of the immigrants chided their countrymen and women for settling in the tropics, and aimed higher than the United States. They opted to move to Canada, which was nearer their native land’s latitude. To make up for being closer to the equator, they compensated by settling in Canada’s harsh heartland where no ocean currents mediated the bitter cold.
Meanwhile, back in the States . . . as farmers continued to settle further west, some of them eventually happened upon paradise on earth. They crossed over the Rockies and Cascades and came to Puget Sound, a land with abundant coasts and shorelines which reminded them of the fjords back home. There the Norse placed deep roots.
Fjords are inherently impressive. In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, C.S. Lewis describes encountering just such a body of water.
When morning came, with a low, gray sky but very hot, the adventurers found they were in a bay encircled by such cliffs and crags that it was like a Norwegian fjord.
In front of them, at the head of the bay, there was some level land heavily overgrown with trees that appeared to be cedars, through which a rapid stream came out. Beyond that was a steep ascent ending in a jagged ridge and behind that a vague darkness of mountains which ran into dull-colored clouds so that you could not see their tops.
The nearer cliffs, at each side of the bay, were streaked here and there with lines of white which everyone knew to be waterfalls, though at that distance they did not show any movement or make any noise.
Indeed the whole place was very silent and the water of the bay as smooth as glass. It reflected every detail of the cliffs.
Some of my own ancestors settled in the late 1800s in Poulsbo, a modest community that came to be known as “Little Norway.” They bore the familiar surname Olsen (Ole’s son). My grandfather married one of their descendants and our family name became Nesby (so revised because English’s stunted alphabet lacked two of the original name’s letters: Næsbø).
Following my retirement from the United States Air Force, I moved near to my family’s American homestead. However, I ended up living next to a rare geographic feature, a fjord.
It sounds reasonable that America would have fjords in Alaska, but Washington is home to a number of them as well. Much of Puget Sound was carved by glaciers that deeply scored the western portion of the state. Independent of these is a long inlet called Hood Canal. It is part of the Salish Sea.
This amazing fjord extends for approximately fifty miles. That makes it almost the length of Romsdalsfjord, Norway’s ninth longest fjord.
I absolutely love surveying the waters of Hood Canal. I suspect I was genetically preordained to feel at home here.
Fjords Appealed to C.S. Lewis Too
In 1958, C.S. Lewis described a visit he and his wife Joy had recently made to Ireland. They were awestruck by the scenery.
Yes, my wife and I had a glorious trip to Ireland. For one thing, we flew and it was for both of us a new experience. I can quite believe that for really long journies it can be dull and monotonous.
But one’s first sight of the cloud-scape from above—then, when the clouds cleared, the coastlines looking (as I’d never really quite believed) just as they do on maps—the first bit of Ireland shining out on the dark sea like enamel work—all this was indescribably beautiful. . . .
As for beauty . . . we saw mountains, heather just beginning to bloom, loughs (= fjords), yellow sand, fuchsia, seas Mediterraneanly blue, gulls, peat, ruins, and waterfalls as many as we could digest.
Lewis’ words serve as a reminder that while we may not all be so fortunate as to live beside a fjord, there is nothing to prevent us from visiting one to savor its wonder.
4 thoughts on “C.S. Lewis and American Fjords”
Isn’t it funny how sometimes when we discover what really appeals to us – what we like for no explainable reason turns out to be connected to ancestors’ lives/places long ago?
My best friend growing up was Swedish/Norwegian with the old members of the family living in North Dakota – quite independently until very very old. My friend spent part of her summers up there and when married wanted her children to have the freedom she had up there…upon inheriting some of the great/grandparents’ house, they happily moved…and lasted 1 winter – it was just too cold for a TX born couple.
Hardy people indeed
What a funny story about your friends. I went to seminary in Minnesota and enjoyed two record winters while there.
As for our tastes being influence by our ancestors… it’s pretty clear when we are aware of them. A bit more mysterious if we learn about the parallels later. Most people would probably simply declare it a coincidence. I suspect there is something more to it.
And with our California heat that sounds so good. The Lord made some amazing vistas.
Yes, indeed. I remember well some hot summers down in Temecula and at Edwards AFB in the Mojave Desert…