Oddný and Magnús are turning their land at Keisbakki in West Iceland into an eider duck sanctuary.

“Here, the eiders fly over our heads, which is very unusual behavior for this species. I think they’re coming to say ‘hi’,” says Oddný Halldórsdóttir, eider farmer at Keisbakki in West Iceland. She and her husband, Magnús Tómasson, are attempting to create a haven for eider ducks on their land, with ponds and islets for the birds to nest on. In the past years, they’ve hatched and raised approximately 700 eider ducklings, fed them, cared for them, and, when old enough, taken them out to sea, where they joined groups of wild eiders.  

Their dream is to create an eider nesting site at Keisbakki, as is common in North Iceland, where the birds like to nest at approximately one-meter (3-foot) radius of each other. “I’ve studied eider farming at my neighbors’,” says Magnús, pointing at fishing net floats scattered across the field. “They create hollows in which the birds like to make their nests.” 

But the hollows remain empty. “We haven’t been successful,” says Magnús gloomily, adding, “I think it’s the eagles,” as to why the eiders might be hesitant to settle down on his land. White-tailed eagles are a protected bird species in Iceland and primarily breed in the West. Eiders are their favorite meal. But Oddný isn’t prepared to give up hope just yet. “It takes time,” she stresses. “It takes three to four years for the eiders to reach puberty.” 

Their eiders do seem to be hanging around, though. When Oddný puts on her yellow raincoat and rubber boots and calls a certain way, a flock of ducks appears. “I always call them the same way,” she explains. Even though the ducklings they raised haven’t nested in the manmade sanctuary yet, wild eiders continue to nest on the four islands that belong to Keisbakki; Oddný and Magnús collect down from 400–600 nests each summer. Dozens of their own ducks have nested there, too; evident because of their tags.

Oddný and Magnús live in Reykjavík but have flexible jobs and spend as much time at Keisbakki as possible. They proudly proclaim themselves “bird nerds” and enjoy spying for birds with their binoculars, observing the eiders and all the myriad species that breed on their land. “There’s a common shelduck couple here and black-tailed godwits,” mentions Oddný. “During Covid, we lived here full-time, and it was the best time of our lives! We just woke up, had a cup of coffee, and looked out the window. It’s our spiritual haven, our sacred kingdom.” 