Life at sea

For centuries have the people of Norway lived not just by the sea, but on it, with it, and off it. The sea has always been a way to travel, a source of income, and a place to find nourishment. This is especially true in Northern Norway. Away from most population centers, full of tall mountains and meandering fjords, Northern Norway was historically a difficult region to reach. The journey was long, arduous, and perilous by land. By sea, it was at least faster. The people who came found vast barren tundras and poor growing soil, which made settling in the area challenging. Here, too, the sea proved to be the solution, and fishing became a lifeline. Throughout the Iron Age and the Middle Ages, it was the most common way to ensure both food and income for the vast majority of families in Northern Norway.

The sea allowed Vikings to raid and expand, goods to be transferred in and out of the country, explorers to discover and map the Arctic, and resources to be exploited. Much of what makes Norway wealthy today has come from the sea: territories, oil, and above all, fish.

The steady development of fishing since the 9th century has, over time, turned into an industry worth billions. Salmon, trout, cod, mackerel, herring, halibut, and king crab don’t just feed the local population, but are also valuable exports. Sealing and whaling, which had been a part of coastal life in Norway for a long time, took off in the 16th century, too, reaching their peak in the early 20th century. Since the mid-20th century, the popularity of both has declined due to concerns about animal welfare, environmental issues, and dwindling interest in the catch. Today, sealing is both strictly controlled and no longer lucrative. A global whaling ban was introduced in 1986, essentially stopping the practice. Norway is one of three countries (joined by Iceland and Japan) to formally object to it, and continues hunting for minke whales, albeit under strict regulations and quotas.

The sea gives and the sea takes. For all the treasures collected from it, the price has been paid in blood. Tens of thousands of people have died in Norwegian waters over the centuries. Strong ocean currents, sudden weather changes, and storms have made life at sea in the North a particularly dangerous affair. One is never in graver danger than in the open ocean, and up until the mid-20th century, there was hardly a family in Northern Norway that hadn’t lost at least one family member to a watery grave. Though both warships and merchant fleets have been taken by the Norwegian sea, it is fishing that has been the deadliest activity off the coast. It remains the most dangerous profession in Norway to this day.

The loss of so many seamen has left lasting marks on Norwegian, and especially Northern Norwegian, culture. The families left behind needed a better explanation than pure chance and bad luck. Scientific evidence was not yet available or widely known, so folk knowledge filled the gap: mystical forces had to be at play, creatures under the water’s surface that were sinking boats and drowning seamen. A rich storytelling tradition evolved in the coastal communities of Norway, with fairy tales of underwater monsters, seductive mermaids, and sea creatures that could predict the weather.

The challenging conditions of life in the North are better handled with the help of friends. People who live here learned that early on: as early as the Viking Age, the Norse people established good relations with the indigenous Sámi and the Slavic people who also lived in the area. Mutual trade continued despite Medieval royal decrees forbidding cross-country trade and giving the monopoly over Northern Norwegian exports to major Norwegian trade hubs like Trondheim and Bergen.

Norwegians from the north were not happy with the amount of power merchants from the South had over them; not only did they lose a portion of their catch because the fish they were shipping to Bergen rotted too quickly during the summer months, but they could also be denied winter provisions if they didn’t meet their quotas or traded outside of the official agreements. So when Bergen’s trade monopoly was abolished, monetary payments became more common, and Danish provisions stopped in the 18th century, the exchange with the Russians took off quickly. Starting in 1740, the unofficial trade system spread throughout Northern Norway, with fishermen as far south as Bodø participating regularly.

The Russians brought much-needed grain to Northern Norway, particularly corn and rye flour (sometimes called Russian flour). They also provided building materials like iron, hemp, and rope. Luxury items like tobacco, porcelain, and candy were popular with the Norwegians, too. In turn, they mostly bought fish. The Russian Orthodox Church maintained an extensive fasting calendar when meat was strictly forbidden, so quality fish was in high demand. Norwegian stockfish, halibut, and salmon were well received. The Norwegians, too, provided luxury goods: furs, reindeer hides, and walrus tusks.

The trade was named Pomor, from the Russian words for by the sea, and the Russians who participated in it: pomors. Arkhangelsk was the main trade center for the Pomors, where grain from the Volga valley would be delivered for shipping to Norway. On the Norwegian side, Vardø and Tromsø were the major ports the Pomors visited. What started as a simple barter trade developed into a vital system of exchange for both Norwegians and Russians, reaching its peak in the 19th century.

Economic growth in Northern Norway (in part thanks to the Pomor trade), better road connections to the south of the country, and the implementation of faster steamships led to a gradual decline in Northern Norwegian reliance on the Pomor trade. When World War I broke out, the fear of German submarines, even in neutral Norwegian waters, discouraged most Pomors from continued trade. The Russian Revolution of 1917 was the final nail in the coffin for the Pomor trade.

The Pomor trade was not just an exchange of goods, but also of culture. The same crews returned to the same ports, developing interpersonal relationships with locals; they introduced Norwegians to brewing tea on a samovar, Russian-style singing, and colorful folk dress. A new language evolved from the contact: Russenorsk, a pidgin which combined Norwegian and Russian with some influence from Sámi, Swedish, German, and Dutch. The language went extinct along with the Pomor trade, but some of its words survive in the Vardø dialect of Norwegian.

The traders shared stories with each other, not just of what they did, but also of what they believed. Being closely tied to the sea, cultures on both sides of the border had developed a rich folkloric tradition related to the water: they believed in underwater creatures, had supernatural explanations for the weather, and personified the force of nature they faced while sailing. Combining the Northern Norwegian and Russian storytelling traditions gave rise to new fairy tales unique to the Pomor trade.