Íslendingadunk 
The Battle of Lake Winnipeg

Author: Chloe Connors, Toronto, ON

On a scorching summer day in the humble town of Gimli, Manitoba, a heroic battle takes place. It was the third day of the month of Augustus. The gathering was in celebration of a large Icelandic settlement in the area. For one hundred and fifty years my family has roamed these lands. In the sizzling sun of the prairies, the festival of Íslendingadagurinn is well underway. 

This morning, I wake in a sweat of anticipation ... or perhaps from the previous night’s frivolity. The early afternoon is spent observing Strong Man competitions in the square, hoping to glean some advantage against my opponent for the imminent encounter. As the clock strikes three, I ensure I am first in line for the competition. At the stroke of four, the action commences. It is the day I have been preparing for since I came here last, in 2023. Through harsh winters and brutal summers, I have trained for this assault, testing myself with great feats of strength. I stare ominously into the stale, murky waters of Gimli Harbour: Welcome to the Dingadunk. 

The objective of the quasi-medieval combat is to knock your opponent into the Lake Winnipeg bay through clumsy swings of a soggy, weighted bag. First, you must shimmy over the water straddling a one-foot diameter, slippery PVC pipe, facing your rival. The rules are few: No shots to the face. No crossing your legs beneath the pole. First to fall loses.

With life preserver fastened tightly around my chest and the deafening sounds of the crowd cheering, I backed on to my trusted PVC steed.

Joined by family and some close friends, Armageddon begins. Bodies hit the water, combatants cry out, arms and bludgers flail madly as the crowd cheers its approval. I show no mercy this day. With my rippling muscles, I swing with all my might. It was now I know Viking blood was coursing through my veins. An onslaught of bean bags, legs flailing before we crash onto the surface of the lake. The Dingadunk takes no prisoners. I climb back on to the pier from the bay, soaked and glistening in the Manitoba sun. It is complete carnage. After several clashes with the enemy, I stand on the podium among my attackers. I have risen triumphant ... in third place, and a quarter C-note richer. My winnings will be taken to the local tavern to fetch a hearty filling of mead this night. 

And thus, the Battle of Lake Winnipeg was well fought. Further inspired by my Icelandic roots, I will return soon enough to take what is rightfully mine.

Chloe Connors is a bronze medalist from Íslendingadunk 2025 and a member of the Lögberg-Heimskringla editorial committee.