Step into the heart of Iceland's heritage with Bessa and her husband Björgvin at their family farm in stunning Önundarfjörður Fjord. Nestled in the northern Westfjords, this isn't your typical farm—it's a sanctuary where eider ducks and humans share a unique, centuries-old bond. 

“It’s as if I can feel nature’s heartbeat,” says Sólveig Bessa Magnúsdóttir, or Bessa as she’s called, of eider farming at Innri-Hjarðardalur. It’s her family farm in beautiful Önundarfjörður Fjord in the northern Westfjords region. 

She and her husband, Björgvin Sveinsson, are not farmers in the traditional sense. They have other jobs but tend to the eiders in early summer, keeping the tradition alive. “I’m the fourth generation on this farm. It has a 70-year history of eider farming. In that time, nests have expanded from about 40 to 1,500.” 

Björgvin has cameras to watch over the eiders when they’re nesting. They have to keep a close eye on them, day and night, to ensure they’re safe, and they also have to drive down to the nesting site regularly. They have an air cannon that scares predators away, and thankfully, the ducks don’t mind the occasional boom. 

Björgvin works at the ski area in Ísafjörður in winter, and Bessa at the Westfjords’ Education Center, teaching adults. In the summer, they take cruise ship passengers on tours – about 200 dock in Ísafjörður each summer – often including visits to the eider sanctuary. It’s dotted with piles of rock, providing shelter for the nesting eiders. “We built up this nesting site, using natural materials,” explains Bessa. 

She says the tourists are amazed when they learn that she can pet the wild birds, and that the eiderdown they collect is the result of a mutually beneficial relationship between man and bird. “It’s absolutely unique. There are no other cases in the world where people attract wild birds without feeding or taming them in some way. Here, we attract the birds by offering protection.” 

Bessa also demonstrates the quality of the down. “I show them examples of different down: Eider down, which is natural, light and clings together, compared to loose goose down, often found in duvets, and greasy down from inside a parka which probably came from a slaughterhouse.” 

Bessa and Björgvin love spending time outdoors, going on hikes in a nearby valley which belongs to the farm, and enjoying the birdlife, which is particularly rich in Önundarfjörður. “Some people have summerhouses,” says Björgvin of Icelanders who like to go on breaks in cottages in the countryside. “But I live in a summerhouse!” Bessa explains that by living here, she feels that she’s one with nature. “We live in rhythm with each season.” 

And now, it’s eiderdown season. The couple has developed their own method for collecting the eiderdown. “We go twice; first to pick the down around the eggs, and later – when the ducklings have left – the remaining down.” Bessa says they don’t mind going twice. It doesn’t take a lot of time because the nests are so close to each other.” To them, the eiderdown is not just a source of income. “I feel like I’m protecting our history, our heritage. Eider farming has a long tradition; it goes all the way back to the settlement.” 

Step into the heart of Iceland's heritage with Bessa and her husband Björgvin at their family farm in stunning Önundarfjörður Fjord, a sanctuary where eider ducks and humans share a unique, centuries-old bond.