Every spring, Petersburg’s Little Norway Festival is marshaled in by a horde of vikings and valkyries, who sow joy and chaos across the community. The group sets out to boost hype for the week-long celebration — a job they don’t take lightly. But this year was different. They were also celebrating the life of a lost loved one.
KFSK’s Shelby Herbert tagged along with the town’s ferocious mascots, and learned the true meaning of “Going for the Grog.”
It was a wild night in Petersburg’s otherwise-quiet downtown. An old shuttle draped with hemp rope and buoys stopped in front of the Harbor Bar, and a horde of furry warriors pours out.
The smell of grog and wet fur inside the bus was… overpowering. Vikings gyrated to early 2000s club music while the bus trundled down the road. At first, a reporter was the only civilian onboard — but that doesn’t last long.
The vikings climbed back aboard with a few tourists in tow — who looked a little frightened, but otherwise, ready for a good time. When the party reaches a fever pitch, and the sweat-stained vehicle bounces on its shocks.
The next morning, it was back to business for Petersburg’s dedicated — but quite hungover — vikings. The raids on the day’s agenda were a little more family-friendly.
The bus rolled into the parking lot of Rae C. Stedman Elementary School. Principal Heather Conn battened down the hatches before the group storms into the classrooms.
“They were naughty for the last couple years, but they’re back in our good graces,” said Conn. “So I guess they’re going for it…”
The vikings tore down the halls, swords and axes drawn — and the kids were in on the anarchy, abandoning their lessons to watch the furry warriors thunder through the school, and to scoop up all the stickers and candy they leave in their wake. Chaos reigned.
Valkyrie Brannon Finney helps one little girl lift up her broadsword. She said this is one of the best parts about being a town mascot.
“We take it upon ourselves to get everybody a little bit more hyped about Mayfest [and] get the kids more excited about it,” said Finney. “Just, generally, like wrapping them in our furs, letting them hold our swords.”
The school raids are an enduring viking tradition. Finney said a lot of her comrades went to grade school in Petersburg, and got a kick out of having the vikings completely disrupt class once a year.
Multiple generations of Petersburg families are involved with the group. Janet Kvernvik has passed on the torch to her two adult daughters Adanna and reigning valkyrie queen, Carolyn. Although she’s hung up her own steel and furs, but she hasn’t retired her memories.
Her old valkyrie name is “Firebush,” after the U.S. Coast Guard buoy tender, Firebush, which she claims to have commandeered in her prime. But she says the group’s acts of piracy didn’t stop there — back in the days before TSA, they used to kidnap people off the afternoon jet.
“Oh, yeah, we’d get on the plane…” said Kvernvik. “That was the day that we could get on the plane and get in the speaker system from the stewardess and [sing] ‘Humpback Salmon.’ Alaska Airlines [was] very aware that people are going to be taken off the plane, so they usually had spare spare service people to be thrown over the back of a viking and taken off.”
But it’s not all just fun, games, and grog. Kelsey Caples is a valkyrie. She said it’s the civic aspect of the group that drew her in.
“[It’s a way] to immerse myself in the community, give myself a way to see everybody, have fun with everybody,” said Caples. “…Get to smile with kids and pictures, actually enjoy Petersburg for what it truly is, and kind of be a staple and sort of a mascot for Petersburg. It is a furry family, and I love being a part of it.”
This year, that family is missing a member. Former viking queen Emilie Sperl came down with a sudden illness and died in January. She was 47.
On the last day of the Little Norway Festival, the group gathered on Petersburg’s north shore to celebrate her life in the most quintessentially “Petersburg” way they can: with a full-on Viking funeral.
Valkyrie Julie Spigelmyre was at the ceremony, holding back tears as she tops off horns and goblets with Emilie’s favorite drink: port. Spigelmyre says Emilie embodied the viking spirit.
“She was amazing,” said Spigelmyre. “I mean, she gave herself to the community. She was artistic. She was fun, a hard worker. She just loved her family so much, and her viking family. She was a special person, and she was taken way too soon.”
Drinking horns in hand, the group begins to surround a skiff-sized replica of a viking ship at the water’s edge — Emilie’s funeral boat.
Her niece and nephew stepped forward, with furs draped over their shoulders, and bows and arrows in hand. They lit their arrows, and fired them at the funeral boat. It quickly caught fire, in spite of the wind.
As the flames licked up the sides of the wooden boat and eat through the fabric of its scarlet sail, the group recited a viking prayer. Then, facing the blaze, they roar out a final toast to their late queen.