One cause of the mass migration West was the brutal climatic conditions during the 1860s. The following is an excerpt from the diary of Sveinn Þórarinsson, magistrate's clerk, detailing the effects of the severe weather of that time. From Sveinn it is possible to trace a path to the New World.

Sveinn was the father of Jón Sveinsson, called Nonni, an internationally known children's book author from the early part of the twentieth century. Sveinn's other son, Friðrik, moved West with his stepfather, Ólafur Ólafsson from Espihóll. Ólafur is mentioned in the excerpt below. Friðrik became a sign painter and was known among Western Icelanders as Fred Swanson. The brothers Nonni and Friðrik lost contact when Nonni went to Denmark and then to France, but they met again sixty years later at the Festival of Parliament in 1930, and again in Winnipeg in December of 1936, when Nonni visited his brother during extensive travel around the world.

Sveinn Þórarinsson was a gifted man, a carpenter and bookbinder, a lover of music, a talented writer, an aesthete and a connoisseur of many things. The following portion of his diary spans the period from May 24 to June 24, 1869. The diary ends on the tenth of July of that same year; Sveinn died only a few days later.

May 25 Hellish north wind, snowstorm. The ground was white with snow down to the sea. I got 17 pollack from Johnsen for two inches of snuff. Chopped a tree for firewood, made a table for the dormer window. I'm running out of hay for the cow. Polar ice filled the inlet and grounded six shark boats that were lying there.

May 26 Calm but frigid weather at first, then chilly southeast winds for a while. Polar ice floating at the bottom of the fjord. Walked into town and up to Eyrarland in search of hay, but to no avail. Hung a couple of bundles of small herring to dry. Elín Gunnarsen moved here into the north room of my house. They began laying the footpath to the church. People are hoeing every square inch of their gardens in a frenzy of hope and hopelessness.

May 27 Northwest snowstorm, freezing gale force winds. I did some repairs but then had to lie in bed for a long time due to the cold; no fires anywhere for lack of firewood. I got 3_ barrels of hay for one Danish dollar and 56 shillings and got temporary relief from that problem. Ever-increasing shortages, and general scarcity of food. Total lack of coffee and tobacco everywhere; no victuals to be had at all except the little we can get from the sea. Havsteen the merchant has nothing but moss and old tobacco slime in place of snuff; men use any and all kinds of surrogates for tobacco and coffee. I still have some tobacco left, and a little bit of food - dolphin meat and blubber, fish, beans, grains - but only enough for a few days. Others are no better off. I drink a coffee made of beans and grain, sweeten it with molasses, which is still available. My cow only milks about 2.5 litres now.

May 28 Southwest gusts, slightly less cold. Northwest wind out on the fjord. Ice floating here at the bottom of the fjord again and gathering at Hrísey Channel. Our fishing nets catch nothing. I fixed up my tools and work bench, then walked down with a bite of snuff for P. Johnsen, half out of his mind for lack of tobacco. Church path is finished. All the ships on their way here, and others besides, get stuck in the ice on the East coast (Gunnólfsvík, Berufjörður). Norwegians have arrived at Seyðisfjörður full of pomp and self-importance.

May 29 Icy northwestern gale. Fog. Fjord chock full of ice all the way to Leira. I made some wooden lids, a mousetrap, and a few other things during the day. Provisions are virtually exhausted by now in homes; no victuals left in stores. I sent Havsteen the merchant a little cut of snuff wrapped in a cornet.

June 3 Northern windstorm, intermittent gusts of fog. Ebb tide pushed the ice further out the fjord a bit, though. I stayed home, puttered around, cured some herring. Starvation and lack of hay are the news from all directions: it's said today that two children are dead of hunger in Ólafsfjörður. The snow is so deep in Fjörður and out in the surrounding countryside that only occasional bare patches can be seen in the fields.

June 4 Cold northeasterly breeze. The air is foggy and threatens snow. Couldn't work much because of the cold. Walked into town to the apothecary, bought a pound of chocolate and licorice and some dandelion root.

June 5 Devilish northeastern gale and snowstorm. Snow blanketed the ground down to the waterline. I couldn't work. Sawed my last log for firewood and had to lie in bed to escape the cold. All my firewood is gone. A couple of men rowed out yesterday and came back today with a pitiful catch.

June 6 Calm clear weather, but still very cold. Árni Sölvason came from Þistilfjörður, having been on board the boats that are stuck in Finnafjörður on their way here and can't move because of the ice around Langanes. Several of us here in town sent a man to Vopnafjörður for tobacco. I put in 60 shillings for ½ pound of snuff. Yesterday I cut the last smidgen of tobacco that I owned. No fish to be caught; the nets drag nothing. Hunger closes in on us all, rich and poor alike.

June 7 Warm southwesterly wind. Most of the ice streamed out of the fjord, kindling hopes that a ship might come. Ólafur from Espihóll came, wanting to buy barley, but it wasn't available any more than anything else; finally he managed to get the last of some rye that had gotten soaked in kerosene. Several people have bought it for a Danish dollar a bushel out of sheer desperation. I figured out that the best way to cure my herring was to smoke it a little after marinating it in brine. Cows are being let out for the first time in the neighbourhood, but I kept mine inside. Everyone has begun planting potatoes.

June 8 Northwestern gale force winds with cloudy streaks on the sky.

June 9 Still weather, warm and cloudy early in the day; southerly winds by evening.

June 10 Southerly gale force winds, but northwesterly winds higher in the sky. Seemingly calm at the mouth of the fjord. By now everyone is close to perishing from hunger. Many have begun slaughtering their stock to save their lives. No hope of a ship's arrival at this time.

June 11 Hellishly violent northern windstorm. The ice has pushed its way into the fjord. A lot of fat herring in the nets this morning. I lay mostly in bed all day from cold and hunger.

June 12 Hellish northerly gusts with intermittent snowstorms. Cows inside again, mine starving hungry. Heavy snowfall. Conditions worsen steadily. I begged my way to ½ pound of juniper berries to eat. Lay in bed mostly due to the cold.

June 13 Northern frostbite gale. Ice ran all the way in to Sigluvík. The cold is unbearable. Hunger sharpens. The magistrate and a couple of others from Möðruvellir came here and went home again. It is said that the magistrate got some grain from Möller, that both Möller and Steincke have several casks of meat, bread, and grain which they are hoarding while death from starvation threatens all around them. I got a barrel of lousy hay from Friðb.[jörn] Steinsson for the cow.

June 14 Northern blizzard. Mountains snow-white. I was forced to kindle to stay alive. Ice thick all the way into Leira. A courier came from Siglufjörður to fetch the sheriff. The ship Iris from Hofsós was stuck there in the ice; Rachel lay in a hole in the ice out beyond Siglufjörður and couldn't move. The barque that was to come here lay in the ice out by Höfðastekkur; Möller the merchant rode out immediately to get news of it, while Steincke sent out to Siglufjörður for news of Rachel. Blizzard winds and heavy snow during the evening. I got a half-barrel of foul hay from Apothecary O. Thorarensen for the cow. Magnús came from Vopnafjörður with tobacco. I got ½ pound of snuff.

June 15 Bitter northern gale; skies heavy as midwinter. I heard that the barque turned around and sailed back East, so Möller the merchant came home last night. I sat, updating the election records, sick from hunger. I haven't had any food other than a little plaice and saltfish for a very long time. Eggert Gunnarsson was here in a fury trying to ensure that the people from Skagafjörður could get to the shipwreck in Siglufjörður. Dolphins in a hole in the ice at Oddeyrarbót. Men were chasing them and managed to catch a few. Cows were let out for awhile today, those with no hay to eat.

June 16 Clear and sunny; warm southwesterly breeze. The news is that the barque got trapped in the ice near Hvanndalabjarg and is in danger. Möller sent a request to Sigurður at Böggversstaðir to get news of it. The ice floated out the fjord as far as Höfði.

June 17 South breeze, warm weather. Calm out on the fjord. Traces of westerly winds in the clouds. It rained in the evening for the first time this spring. I lay feeble and starving in my bed for most of the day. Had nothing for food except a bite of saltfish and some fried fish skin, nothing to drink except some bitter wild thyme water. The ice is mostly out at the mouth of the fjord now. Various reports of ships out beyond. I gave Þorleifur Björnsson a chunk of snuff.

June 18 Still, calm weather; warm thick air. This morning the sheriff's horses were sent home from Svarfaðardalur, accompanied by a notice of the auction of goods on the shipwrecked Iris on Monday the 21st of this month. The sheriff had sent the magistrate grains, coffee, and a keg of spirits, and so it seems that Herod and Pilate are becoming friends again. Friðbjörn Steinsson sent his wife a pound of coffee, and I got a taste of it. The men from here decided to go to the auction in two boats; I went with Steinn's boat, for Björn the editor gave me bread and sausage (rúllupylsa) to eat on the way. I prepared for the trip as well as I could. The barque was said to have been seen in the ice at Látrar.

June 19 Still, sunny and hot at first, then a sea breeze. I waited for my travel companions out beyond Siglufjörður until 12:00, and we embarked in Steinn's boat in light winds. Reached Hjalteyri at 3, Syðstibær on Hrísey at 8, the cape of Ólafsfjörður at 11, lake Hvannadalsvatn at 12, approached Héðinsfjörður at 2, and landed at Ytrikrókur on Siglunes at 3, after rowing along the coast for fifteen hours, through the ice which virtually blankets the sea along the entire northern coast of the country. We landed the boat, offloaded, pitched tents, and got a little bit of rest. News today is that the barque Emma lay fast in a plate of ice out beyond the Máná Islands. The stranded Iris lies here far from land, mostly sunken, with sea-soaked food and other provisions all over the beach, spread out on a sail.

June 20 Calm and very warm. We walked over to Siglunes to get some coffee; what we got was thin and poor. Then Ólafur from Espihóll walked in over Skriður [stony and gravel slopes] into town, but I didn't feel up to accompanying him. The sheriff and Snorri the merchant came out to the headland to prepare the auction. At midday I got a ride to Eyri on a little boat. Rachel lies there in the harbour along with several shark boats. I stayed the night in town with Ólafur and several others. Did some drinking during the evening. Jón Mýrdal showed me around.

June 21 Warm, foggy and still. The fjord of Siglufjörður is entirely choked with ice. I went with a few others out to Siglunes in a skiff; sometimes we had to drag the boat over the ice. We decided among us that Friðbjörn Steinsson should bid at the auction as our proxy. The auction began, but Friðbjörn did not do very well by us. We got both fewer and more expensive things than necessary. The throng here is immense, most of them hungry people who constantly boil sea-soaked grains and shovel it, half raw, up into their mouths with shells, sticks, or whatever else they can find. We lay wet and exhausted in our wreck of a tent during the night. I slept little.

June 22 Cold, rainy easterly breeze. Auction continued today and ended at 4. We loaded the boat and embarked from Siglunes at 9:00, threaded our way along the coast in a zigzag pattern due to the pack ice and other obstacles, came to Hrísey and were able to sail along Arnarnesnafir, reached Akureyri at 6 p.m. on the 23rd, after a 21-hour trip.

June 23 Sea breeze with light fog. We immediately divided up most of what we had bought and went to sleep. Ólafur from Espihóll went home. The last few days there have been good catches of whiting, pollack, herring and plaice, which has greatly eased the severe hunger and helplessness of all here.