Viking in the Pacific...

what if vikings actually did reach the pacific via the northwest passage (as some believe as seen in link below (its actually a good read:p))

http://www.kilts.co.nz/longship.htm

and lets say a group of 50 or a 100 viking men and women settled on one of the islands in the Queen Charlotte Islands off the northern Coast of British Columbia. kinda like the settlement on Newfound Land. and they manage to get along with the natives all right. and eventually they intermarry and interbreed and the such... how would this effect the future of the region?

the natives would learn how to metal work, weave clothe, and farm (goats are a possibility)... the natives would be exposed to diseases and be more resiliant to them. their culture would carry on certain traits of the viking culture. (they might even evolve a written language) ... and the such....

and maybe if some of the vikings did leave and make it back home (with tales about a new world and gold and the such...) and maybe a couple hundred more might return. imagine the possibilities...

discuss. what do you think would happen?
 
LOL, one of my favorite BS "Cryptohistory" sites! Love it! :D

POD: 1000: Lief travels the NW passage rather than sail south to Newfie.

1001: Lief and crew starve to death somewhere north of Nunnavut, or maybe Yukon when the available stores run out.

1032: Inuit find Vikcicles while on a seal hunt. The steel tools and weapons become valuable but irreplacable artifacts.
 
POD: 1000: Lief travels the NW passage rather than sail south to Newfie.

1001: Lief and crew starve to death somewhere north of Nunnavut, or maybe Yukon when the available stores run out.

1032: Inuit find Vikcicles while on a seal hunt. The steel tools and weapons become valuable but irreplacable artifacts.

while probably true, it's still fun to think about.... so here we go...


Viking pacific story:




Erik the Bold stood quietly at the bow of his fifty-foot longship while surveying the western slope of Protected Sound ahead. He had named the sound himself the day before.

His dark blue gaze drifted up the heavily timbered slope on his right towards the snowy peak above. Another wave of mist obscured his view of the ridge. Instead of straining to see through the mist Erik turned his gaze back at their smaller companion ship, Freja, following a hundred paces behind on their left.

Erik lifted a hand above his head of unruly blond hair.

The captain of Freja, Hakon, Erik’s life long friend razed a hand in silent reply.

Erik turned his attention to the calm water ahead. They were nearing another rocky point adorned with a straggly spruce tree. A large white-headed eagle perched atop of the tree.

“That’s a good sign.” Otto spoke up as he approached the bow. Erik turned to face the old man who despite being nearly half a century old still had arms like tree trunks and a barrel of a chest. “An eagle over a sheltered bay.”

“That it is Otto.” Erik spoke in a quiet voice listening to the rhythmic beating of the oars.

Turning his attention to the approaching point ahead Erik fell silent. “Do you smell that Otto?”

After a long minute his friend replied, “Smoke?”

“Yes.” Erik smirked, “Skrieglings perhaps?”

“What else?”

In silence the ship rounded the point. Far ahead at the end of a tree lined bay stood a serious of low wooden buildings and strange erect poles. A small river entered the bay on the left side of the village. Three tiny boats that appeared to be carved out of logs sat in the middle of the tiny bay tending what appeared to be fishing nets. The scene reminded Erik of his home village far away in Iceland, the better part of a years sail away.

Erick quickly glanced once down the widening Fiord before directing his crew to steer towards the large village. The men in the small boats abruptly noticed the two ships nearing and abandoned their nets. They paddled in earnest towards their home village.

“Prepare for battle?” One of the crew called out hopefully?
“No.” Erik ordered, “Keep your weapons down. These are the first people we have seen in ages. We are not going to attack them… unless they attack us. Is that understood?”

The crew reluctantly nodded.

“Good. If anyone tries anything you will answer to me. Is that understood?”

Again the crew nodded their agreement.

For several long minutes Erik watched the village neared. He let his ship glide in slowly as to not appear threatening. Nevertheless a large crowd of dark haired men had lined the pebble beach with spears, shields, bows, and clubs in hand. They looked both nervous and dangerous.

Erik kept a hand on the pommel of his sword as he listened to his ship scrape bottom. Half of the rowers jumped into knee-deep water before working to drag the ship ashore partway. When dry land appeared beneath the bow Erik gracefully leapt from the carved bow. His leather boots crunched upon the shells below. He watched the inhabitants take a collective step back.

“Greetings.” Erik spoke as the forty crewmen aboard his ship scrambled ashore. “I am Erik the Bold. Who are you people?”

None of them spoke.

Figures. How would they know his tongue?

Erik turned and briefly watched Freja come ashore a hundred feet down the beach. Its crew of thirty quickly embarked upon the beach. He reasoned that if they struck now they might be able to take the village but then where would they be with winter about to strike.

No diplomacy was Erik’s weapon.
 
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