Though the photo may appear calm, this day at Reynisfjara beach felt violent. The wind was strong enough to keep my hood up whether I liked it or not, but not strong enough to push me off-course. I had picked up my rental car the day before and found curious the sticker on the inside of the driver’s door, which effectively said: “our insurance does not cover damages if the door flies off the car due to wind.” Reynisfjara was the first time I felt this, but my expedition to Heimaey later in the week was the most severe - there, I was equally as concerned about the door flying off as I was being blown off the cliff and out to sea myself. 

On a video call with my partner, I shouted over the wind, “I’m in Iceland!!!” I was the only one on the beach at this time. I saw a sign as I walked out from the parking lot warning about “sneaker waves.” In case you’re unfamiliar, sneaker waves are a phenomenon on certain beaches where the perception of the wave coming and the impact are at a large disconnect, resulting in people being taken in by a wave that seems to grow to 10x the perceived size at the last minute. The image the sign provided to help me understand the dangers of the sneaker wave was two-fold. The first part of the image showed a stick person with a regular sized wave at a safe distance away. The second half showed this same stick person, now standing underneath a wave that reached the ozone layer, probably registering his impending doom. The text simply said, “Beware: Sneaker Waves.”