As rain poured in 5 deg C weather, five Chinese tourists found themselves stranded in a river in the southern highlands of Iceland.

Their rented four-wheel-drive Kia had veered off a designated river crossing and its undercarriage got caught on a rock, which left its wheels lifted slightly off the ground.

The nearest town was a two-hour drive away.

Cold, wet and scared, they used the vehicle’s SOS button to call for help.

Help arrived about 30 minutes later.

A group of five Chinese tourists watching as Ms Erla Magnusdottir attempted to dislodge their rental car. The tourists had removed their belongings from the vehicle and attempted to manoeuvre it out of the river by themselves before finally calling for help.

Clad in neon green, red and blue, a team of five rescue volunteers ferried the shivering tourists to the nearby Landmannalaugar campsite to warm up. With backup, they spent about two hours dislodging and towing the car out of the river.

Rescue volunteers packing the tourists’ belongings into their vehicle while waiting for backup from their team.
Rescue volunteers dislodging the car, an effort which took around two hours, after returning to the area.

At the end of their duty week, the rescue workers return to their full-time jobs – as kindergarten teachers, electricians, tour guides and cargo handlers, among others.

The stranded Chinese tourists being driven to the Landmannalaugar campsite with their belongings.

They are among more than 4,000 active volunteers from the Icelandic Association for Search and Rescue (ICE-SAR) who are always on standby to respond to emergencies in the country.

Cargo handler Berglind Kristjansdottir, 24, warning a group of tourists against hiking on the Laugavegur trail because of an incoming storm. Rescue teams have successfully used such preventive measures to manage the number of calls they receive for dangerous incidents.

“Tourists are always surprised to hear that we don’t get paid,” said pre-school teacher Jona Ragnarsdottir, 32. “It’s a strong testament to the Icelandic people. We just do it voluntarily because we like it and we want to help.”

Ms Jona Ragnarsdottir putting on a drysuit with the help of Mr Marcel Rodriguez, 57, a businessman.

The volunteers do not mind paying for their personal gear, such as backpacks and uniforms.

Ms Ragnarsdottir, for instance, has spent some 700,000 Icelandic krona (S$6,600) on equipment over the past two years as a volunteer.

Ms Ragnarsdottir pulling a rope towards a car stuck in a river, preparing to tow it out. Many tourists navigating Iceland’s highlands are new to driving conditions such as river crossings and unpaved gravel tracks.

“For me, it’s not about the money. It’s the company, it’s the trips we go on, and I love the outdoors. It all comes together,” she said.

River crossings like this are common in the highlands of Iceland. Volunteers often look in the water for licence plates that may have fallen off vehicles.

Every summer, the nation’s 93 rescue teams take turns patrolling the highlands on week-long shifts as part of an initiative set up by ICE-SAR in 2005.

The incident involving the stranded Chinese tourists was just one of 68 calls that the duty patrol team responded to in one week in August. The cases the rescue volunteers attended to ranged from superficial injuries, such as cuts and lacerations, to a case of hypothermia.

The members of the Keflavik team have a friendly, informal competition to see how many licence plates each rescue volunteer finds during their duty week. Drivers can look for their missing licence plates among the collection displayed outside the ICE-SAR cabin at the Landmannalaugar campsite.

Most of the time, the volunteers’ work is about rescuing people from cars stuck in the highlands.

STUCK IN THE HIGHLANDS

Winching and towing vehicles out of ditches and rivers are among the most common missions during the highland watch.

 PHOTO: WAYNE LIM

“We don’t blame anyone. Driving in the highlands of Iceland is no joke,” said volunteer Haraldur Haraldsson, a 50-year-old firefighter who was the president of the Keflavik rescue team and is now leader of its underwater rescue team.

Mr Haraldur Haraldsson briefing a team of 15 on the weather forecast and their duties for the day over breakfast at the Landmannalaugar campsite.
Mr Gudni Emilsson, 35, an aircraft maintenance technician, and his wife Thorgerdur Anja Snaebjornsdottir, 31, a nurse, cooking dinner for the team. Team members take turns to prepare breakfast and dinner each day.
Displayed in the cabin at the Landmannalaugar campsite are the pennants of some of the rescue teams that were based here for a week.
Every day, one-third of the team remain on standby in the cabin at the Landmannalaugar campsite, while the rest patrol the highlands in two separate vehicles. While on standby, the volunteers catch up with one another over snacks.

The volunteers are mobilised all year round alongside the police and the fire department during emergencies, including natural disaster evacuations and search efforts for missing people. In 2023, ICE-SAR responded to more than 1,100 calls.

ORIGINS

ICE-SAR traces its beginnings back to the formation of Iceland’s first rescue team in the country’s southern Westman Islands in 1918, following frequent sea accidents involving sailors and fishermen.

 PHOTO: WAYNE LIM

As more rescue teams formed across the country, the Accident Prevention Association of Iceland was founded in 1928. It merged with the National Association of Rescue Teams, Landsbjorg, in 1999 to form ICE-SAR.

Rescue team members gathering for a briefing at the start of rope rescue training at the Landmannalaugar campsite.

“Rescue volunteers in Iceland are like Swiss Army knives,” said Mr Haraldsson.

He was referring to the volunteers’ versatility: Each volunteer is trained in a variety of skills, such as first aid, scuba diving and rope rescue, as part of a two-year basic training programme.

Every morning during the highland watch, rescue teams take the opportunity to brush up on rescue skills, including rope work and first aid, and build their team chemistry at the same time.
Ms Anita Taylor, 20, a geography undergraduate, taking on the role of a team member being lowered down a cliff to rescue a victim, during rope rescue training.

The volunteers respond not only to vehicle-related incidents – which are the most common in the highlands – but also to extreme cases.

On Aug 25, more than 200 ICE-SAR volunteers were activated to rescue an American couple who were trapped, after an ice cave on the Breidamerkurjokull glacier collapsed during a guided tour.

The volunteers spent hours breaking and searching through the ice mostly by hand, due to the difficulty of getting equipment to the glacier. Although the Americans were eventually located, one was pronounced dead at the scene, while the other was airlifted by helicopter to a hospital in Reykjavik.

One of Mr Haraldsson’s most memorable calls took place more than 20 years ago. A search for a missing man turned into a dive mission, as volunteers retrieved dismembered body parts caught in the propeller of a towing ship after the man fell into the harbour.

“That was probably one of the worst calls,” Mr Haraldsson said, recalling the gruesome mission. “Finding an arm and a leg and part of a head – it is one thing to do it on land... but it is a totally different story to do it underwater.”

Whether the missions are harrowing or commonplace, Mr Haraldsson said the strong community spirit among the volunteers has kept him going – a sentiment echoed by others in his team in Keflavik.

A sign along the road marking the entrance to the Keflavik rescue base. Bjorgunarsveitin Sudurnes is the name of the rescue team, which was established in 1994 following a merger of three teams in the region.
Forklift operator Gudmundur Vidisson (left), 28, and electrician Andriy Krasovskyy, 22, rigging up one of the Keflavik team’s vehicles for the highland watch.
Nurse Thorgerdur Anja Snaebjornsdottir packing supplies into a first aid kit with the help of her six-year-old daughter, Athena, in preparation for the Keflavik rescue team’s week-long shift in the highlands.

“Taking difficult calls together makes the group more tightly knit,” said electrician Ragnheidur Thorisdottir, who is the youngest volunteer of the team at 19. “It’s like a second family,” she added.

Electrician Ragnheidur Thorisdottir, 19, is the youngest member of the Keflavik team.

Mr Haraldsson also found his first family in ICE-SAR – he met his wife, Ms Erla Magnusdottir, in the rescue team.

Ms Erla Magnusdottir, 38, an occupational therapist, receiving updates such as weather forecasts and details on incidents tended to by other teams, from ICE-SAR headquarters.

“When your hobby is your life, this is what happens. You meet your partner. In fact, it’s not a hobby – it’s a lifestyle,” he said.

Mr Haraldsson has been a volunteer for 36 years. When he was 14 years old, a volunteer saw him struggling while diving at the harbour, and asked him to join their training.

Mr Haraldsson helping to pack food into one of the vehicles. The team prepares and cooks all their meals during their week in the highlands.

Full-fledged volunteers must be at least 18 years old, while teen volunteers start at the age of 13.

Ms Thorisdottir started nurturing the next generation of volunteers in 2024 as a youth leader. She teaches teenagers rope work and first aid skills once a week.

She said: “It’s very satisfying to teach them how to help themselves, so they can be a little bit independent.”

Ms Anita Taylor, 20, who is one of the Keflavik team’s youngest members, wearing a drysuit and goggles, trying to retrieve tools from under a car stuck in a river. The geography undergraduate is training to be a rescue diver.

Firefighter Gil Resende, 24, first stumbled into the youth department to fulfil an after-school activity requirement at 16.

He has since continued to volunteer with ICE-SAR because, like many others, he found fulfilment in the cause.

“Everyone has a passion for something, and I realised my passion is in emergency response. When people are in need, I want to be able to help,” said Mr Resende, whose girlfriend is also a volunteer.

Mr Gil Resende, 24, a firefighter, has been volunteering with ICE-SAR since he was 16 years old.
Mr Resende met his girlfriend, cargo handler Berglind Kristjansdottir, 24, in the rescue team.

Tour guide Karolina Maziarz, 44, worked as a paramedic in Poland before quitting due to burnout and relocating to Iceland. She said volunteering with ICE-SAR is an opportunity to continue helping people with her skills.

Ms Karolina Maziarz in a rescue vehicle on its way to rescue stranded tourists.

Ms Maziarz, who joined as a volunteer in 2018, said: “It’s a completely different feeling when you help people because you can and want to, and not just because it’s your job.”

Wayne Lim is a final-year communication studies student at Nanyang Technological University’s Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information in Singapore. His report on the Icelandic Association for Search and Rescue volunteers is part of the school’s Going Overseas For Advanced Reporting, or Go-Far, module.