Scenic Hiking, Sea Tales & Serendipity in Runavik, Faroe Islands

Scenic Hiking, Sea Tales & Serendipity in Runavik, Faroe Islands
– David Eugene Perry

 16 August 2026: Ahoy! Today in Runavik, Faroe Islands it was a day of sightseeing, scenic hiking, sea tales and finally a serendipitous local bus ride. Off the ship early, on a quiet, misty and pleasantly chilly Sunday, Alfredo and headed for the lake and its lichen-lined trail: 45 minutes of glorious scenery and more than the occasional sheep. En route to the trail, we encountered several extremely well-curated public “open air” museum placards documenting the history of the islands, and especially the rich fishing tradition here.

Runavík lies on Eysturoy, the second-largest of the Faroe Islands, along the long fjord of Skálafjørður. Unlike some of the islands’ much older settlements, Runavík developed largely in the 20th century and today is very much a working Faroese community, with fishing, shipping, fish processing and aquaculture all immediately evident around the harbor.

The public exhibits laid out that history unusually well. Vikings travelled north in open boats during the ninth century and settled the Faroe Islands sometime between about 800 and 900. Boats were essential because the sea, rather than separating the islands, was their principal means of communication and transport. The surviving evidence is too limited to tell us exactly what the local boat looked like between about 900 and 1600, but such an important vessel was almost certainly being built locally.

By the first half of the 17th century, Faroese boatbuilding appears to have developed substantially. According to the exhibit, 50 boats and all of their crews were once lost at sea, after which a law was reportedly introduced prohibiting people from going to sea in boats considered too small. Small Norwegian boats were then in use here, and the local boatbuilding tradition probably evolved considerably during this period.

The traditional Faroese boat ultimately developed from the Norse clinker-built boat. In clinker construction the hull planks overlap one another and are fastened together, rather than meeting edge-to-edge. Faroese boatbuilders gradually adapted this inherited form to local conditions: dangerous tidal currents between islands, rough seas and very steep landing places. The boat therefore had to combine seaworthiness with sufficiently light construction to allow a crew to haul it ashore. The exhibits say the distinctive elegant form of the Faroese boat was established by about the middle of the 17th century.

Boatbuilding itself became a specialized craft passed from generation to generation. Once the keel had been raised, planks were added one by one and riveted with clinker nails, the shape of the boat emerging progressively as the builder worked. There was no fixed set of plans. Builders relied instead upon certain measurements, inherited traditions and experience — literally the boatbuilder’s eye. An apprentice might spend two winters with an older craftsman and build perhaps ten to twelve boats before calling himself a boatbuilder, although the exhibits make clear that learning continued throughout his working life. A builder often travelled to the customer’s own village and constructed the boat there. His tools could fit in a single toolbox; as the sign rather memorably explains, the rest he carried in his head.

By the 1920s engines were becoming common in Faroese boats. In 1927 the first purpose-built racing boat was constructed at Vestmanna. Competitive rowing subsequently spread through the islands and today is regarded as the Faroese national sport. The tradition had much older informal roots: two boats returning from fishing or trading at the same time might simply race one another to shore. The first known organized Faroese rowing competition took place at Trongisvágsfjørður on Suðuroy in the 1870s.

After World War II, Faroese fishermen increasingly travelled to Greenland. They initially took ordinary Faroese motorboats, including eight-man racing boats, but the abundance of fish soon made larger craft desirable. Faroese builders responded with bigger, heavier, deeper and broader boats adapted for engines, producing the distinct “Greenland boat.” Later, during the 1970s and 1980s, boats built at Kaldbak adapted the Faroese form to fiberglass construction. Commercial use of the old traditional boat has now largely disappeared, but associations, museums, private owners and competitive rowing continue to keep it alive.

In 2021 the Faroese clinker-boat tradition joined the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity as part of the joint Nordic clinker-boat nomination. That recognition covers not simply the boat as an object but the inherited knowledge of building and using it. The National Museum works with museums, associations and private individuals to maintain a craft that is now considered at risk because so few young people are learning traditional boatbuilding.

That led me to ask about the Faroes during World War II and how their flag, Merkið, became officially recognized.

When Germany occupied Denmark in April 1940, Britain quickly occupied the Faroes to prevent Germany from establishing itself in this strategically important part of the North Atlantic. The British presence was generally peaceful and became known locally as the “Friendly Occupation.” Denmark was now cut off, however, forcing the Faroese to assume much more responsibility for their own administration and trade.

Fishing became even more important. Faroese boats carried fish to Britain at considerable risk from mines, submarines, wartime shipping hazards and North Atlantic weather. At the same time, imported flour, sugar, coffee, fuel, clothing and other goods could be scarce or rationed, making local fish, meat, potatoes and dairy products particularly important. British forces also created employment through construction, transport, communications and military support work. One of their largest projects was the airfield on Vágar that ultimately became the modern Faroese airport.

The British military presence brought soldiers into close daily contact with a very small civilian population. Relations were generally good, including friendships, dances, sports and marriages, although the usual tensions accompanied the arrival of a large foreign military force.

And the war gave the Faroese flag a practical new importance. Faroese vessels could no longer safely sail under the Danish flag because Denmark was under German occupation. The Faroese therefore wanted their own white flag with its red Nordic cross outlined in blue to identify their ships. On 25 April 1940 British authorities recognized Merkið for use by Faroese shipping. The date is still Faroese Flag Day.

The experience of administering their own affairs during those five years also mattered politically. After the war it was difficult simply to return to the old arrangement with Copenhagen; greater Faroese autonomy followed, culminating in Home Rule in 1948.

History imbibed, now it was time to hike.

The trail around Toftavatn is approximately four kilometers round trip, with a rise of about 90 meters. The local hiking sign classifies it as easy and suitable for children, with a possible uphill section toward Svangaskarð at Toftir.

The scenery looked distinctly volcanic, which prompted another question: Was the geology here connected with the hotspot that remains active beneath Iceland?

Yes. The Faroes are overwhelmingly composed of basalt lava flows produced around 55 million years ago as the North Atlantic began opening between Greenland and Europe. Immense volcanic eruptions built successive layers of basalt, giving many Faroese mountains the horizontal banding visible today. That volcanism was associated with the same broad North Atlantic mantle-plume system connected with present-day Iceland. Plate movement subsequently carried the Faroes away from the active volcanic center, while Iceland remains volcanically active. Much later, glaciers cut through those stacked lava flows, creating the steep valleys, fjords and cliffs that now define the scenery.

The lake trail also passed through extensive lichen habitat. The information panels explained that some lichens can live for centuries and colonize newly exposed rock relatively quickly after glaciers retreat. Because many species expand slowly outward in roughly circular patches, measuring them can sometimes help estimate how long rock has been exposed — a technique known as lichenometry. One example given was the yellow-green Rhizocarpon geographicum, growing at only about 0.02 to 0.2 millimeters per year. Lichens can also serve as indicators of air pollution because different species have different tolerances to atmospheric contaminants. Historically, people used them for such purposes as animal feed and textile dyes.

The bird board at Toftavatn identified an impressive collection of species. Among those considered commonly seen were meadow pipit, common snipe, Eurasian teal, black-legged kittiwake, common gull, oystercatcher, tufted duck, whimbrel, Arctic skua, Eurasian wigeon, mallard, lesser black-backed gull, red-breasted merganser, great skua, herring gull, red-throated diver, great black-backed gull, greylag goose and whooper swan. Less frequently seen species included white wagtail, red-necked phalarope, Slavonian grebe, goldeneye, scaup, northern pintail, barnacle goose and grey heron.

We also encountered a much sadder piece of local history. A memorial beside Toftavatn commemorates John Mikkelsen, age 11; Jákup Mikkelsen, age 10; and Oddmar Andreassen, age 10, three boys who drowned there on Monday, 31 August 1964.

As impressive as is the scenery, equally impressive is the economy of the Faroe Islands. Fishing remains foundational, but salmon aquaculture has become another major industry. Bakkafrost, headquartered at Glyvrar beside Runavík, is the most conspicuous example: a large Faroese salmon producer whose operations extend from breeding and feed to farming, processing and export.  An interesting fact here: there is essentially “no unemployment.” Taken literally there are, of course, unemployed people, but the expression reflects an exceptionally tight labor market. Fishing, aquaculture, maritime services, construction and public employment all contribute to an economy where employers can have difficulty finding enough workers.

The Faroese themselves control their fishing and oil rights. The important point is that fisheries and offshore natural resources are areas of extensive Faroese self-government. The Faroese authorities manage fishing policy and access to the marine resources on which so much of the economy depends, and they have responsibility for subsoil resources such as potential offshore oil and gas within Faroese jurisdiction. That economic control is one of the clearest practical expressions of Faroese autonomy within the Kingdom of Denmark.

And of course, on land everywhere we encounter sheep. The word “Faroe” actually is a derivation of Old Norse for “Islands of Sheep.” Sheep farming has been part of life here for centuries. With little level arable ground, the Faroese traditionally depended heavily on grazing livestock, and sheep could provide meat, wool and other essentials while making use of steep land unsuitable for crops. The legends of the seafaring Irish monk St. Brendan are interrupted by many to be about the Faroes with their vivid descriptions of sheep. Event before the Vikings arrived, monastic sailors from Ireland the Scottish Hebrides trod these shores.

By 11:30am, we were pleasantly tired and returned to the ship to freshen up. Since no “land based work” beckoned on this the second day of the weekend, Alfredo and I ventured back out in search of a local brew. Little did we realize we’d succeed in a very authentic way. Back in the middle of the town, one of the friendly local young people with “Ask Me!” signs offered that “there’s a local bus doing a tour at 2pm.” With exactly the right amount of Danish Krone in our pockets, we boarded the bus for what turned out to be quite the best and most unexpected group tour we’ve ever taken.

First, we entered the incredible under-the-Ocean Eysturoy Tunnel (Eysturoyartunnilin). Opened in December 2020, this 11.24-kilometer (7 mile) undersea marvel features the world’s first underwater roundabout, located 70 meters beneath the Atlantic. It cuts the drive from Tórshavn to Runavík from 64 minutes down to just 16 minutes.

Then, our increasingly loquacious driver (in all the good ways) drove us to a village just outside Runavik where he stopped to introduce us to a local sheep herder, who proceed to give us a demonstration of his two European Champion herding dogs. The pig Babe of movie fame would have been impressed indeed. While were we watching the canine acrobatics, the herder’s wife offered us fresh lamb bits and a cold cup of Føroya Bjór beer.

As we left, the driver pointed out the monument to local hero Faroese sea captain Anton Martin Olsen (1921–1996), renowned for rescuing a distressed boat of 35 Vietnamese boat refugees in 1978 aboard his ship, an act for which he was knighted by the Queen of Denmark.

Then, up a steep local road (past a former mayor’s house) we passed, of course, more sheep and numerous silvery waterfalls en route to the small community of Lamba on Lambavík Bay, site of one of the Faroes’ best-known shipwreck stories.

On New Year’s Eve 1707, the Norske Løve — the “Norwegian Lion” — was driven onto the rocks there. The vessel belonged to the Danish East India trading world and had been attempting a North Atlantic passage when severe weather left it in desperate condition. The surviving account describes a voyage already marked by extraordinary misfortune before the ship reached the Faroes.

At Lambavík the ship finally wrecked. Out of a complement numbering more than 400, only roughly 100 to a hundred-plus men survived the freezing ordeal and were brought safely ashore with the help of local people. Much of what could be reached — survivors, equipment and cargo — was initially salvaged.

Then nature intervened again. A landslide descended over the wreck area during the night, burying much of what remained beneath earth and water. Parts of the vessel, including ballast stones and copper plates, are still associated with the seabed at the wreck site.

The wreck also left tangible traces elsewhere in the Faroes. A salvaged bell bears the inscription “Danscke Ostindische Compagnies Scheb Nordische Löwe” — identifying it as the Danish East India Company ship Nordische Löwe. Tórshavn Cathedral, Havnar Kirkja, also contains a votive model of the Norske Løve, traditionally said to have been made by one of the sailors who survived the wreck.

As a maritime historian, these unexpected bits of sea lore never cease to enchant me. Alfredo and I – neither big fans of organized bus tours – quite agreed, this accidental tour guide was quite the best ever. Now, sated with local food and folklore, we returned to the good ship Nieuw Amsterdam. Next stop: the Scottish New Hebrides!