National Geographic : 1955 Dec
perature in Reykjavik, Iceland's capital, is only one degree lower than New York's. If Rockefeller Plaza were moved to Reykjavik, its skating rink would still require artificial freezing! But it was July, and the young girls in the park opposite my hotel did not skate, nor did they play. They swept the flower-bordered walks. They cut grass. They groomed the flower beds until every plant looked fit for a horticultural show (page 732). Workaday Reykjavik paid scant attention to the cheerful industry of these vacationing students. But I, an American parent, looked on in rapt amazement and admiration. North of Reykjavik in Reykholts Dalur, one of Iceland's green valleys, I saw other girls wielding hay rakes with the same happy zest. These were Thorsteinn J6nsson's daugh ters: Gerdur, Elsa, Ragnhildur, and Asdis. Up for Air Comes an 8-ton Bull Whale; Harpoon and Line Fly Out to Meet Him Norwegian-born Capt. Iver Iversen manages this operation in Trinity Bay, Newfoundland. Author and photographer spent a week aboard his 50-foot Arctic Skipper, frequently dining on choice cuts of whale "beef" (page 728). -+FirstMate Bill Sheppard fires the 50-mm. gun. A split second later the barbed 43-pound projectile bit into the target, a 30-foot minke whale. +' The stricken animal sounds; line streaks from its coil in the ship's hold. Ten minutes later crewmen dragged the carcass alongside. Towed ashore, it pro duced $400 in steaks, $55 in scraps for fur farms, and $70 in oil for oleomargarine makers.