The Beast of Lake Kleifarvatn

In 1984, hunter Júlíus Ásgeirsson and his cousin were camping on a hillside overlooking Lake Kleifarvatn. The weather was close to freezing, and the lake was calm and quiet. Then they noticed something unusual.

At first, they thought they were looking at a rock. But the “rock” began to move.

They watched as several large, dark animals swam in the lake. The creatures moved smoothly through the water, almost like seals. After a while, they swam to shore, jogged along the land, disappeared briefly, then returned to the water again. Later, they climbed out on the opposite side of the lake and walked up toward Sveifluháls.

When the hunters later checked the shoreline, they found two large tracks in the ground. The prints looked like hoofprints, but bigger than any horse.

According to Júlíus:

• In the water, the animals looked seal-like.
• On land, they looked dog-like, but much larger.
• Their size seemed greater than a normal horse.
• The cold conditions made it impossible, in his opinion, for horses or other known animals to behave that way.

Júlíus concluded:

“I’ve never believed in monsters, but I won’t make fun of people who believe in them after this.”

This sighting remains one of the most detailed and unexplained events ever reported at Lake Kleifarvatn.

Lake Kleifarvatn Folklor

Long before the 1984 sighting, locals around the Reykjanes Peninsula spoke of Skrímslið í Kleifarvatni — The Beast of Lake Kleifarvatn. Unlike some Icelandic lake and sea monsters, this creature was never tied to dramatic battles or terrifying encounters. Instead, it was described quietly, almost cautiously, as something unknown that might live in the lake’s deep, dark waters.

Kleifarvatn is a lake with unusual characteristics:

• It has no visible rivers feeding it.
• Water flows in and out through hidden lava channels.
• Its water level changes with earthquakes.
• Its color and stillness can appear almost unnatural on calm days.

These features gave the lake an air of mystery. When people saw unexplained ripples or dark shapes in the water, it was easy to imagine something living beneath the surface.

The folklore surrounding Skrímslið doesn’t give the creature a fixed form. Instead, it is described in broad, uncertain terms: a large, elongated animal, dark in color, able to move between land and water. These vague descriptions allowed the legend to adapt to new stories — including the 1984 sighting, which many people connected to the old name.

The legend’s power comes not from dramatic storytelling, but from the absence of clear answers. Kleifarvatn is remote, quiet, and visually striking. A strange movement across its surface — even for a few seconds — easily becomes a story that lasts for decades.

Today, Skrímslið í Kleifarvatni is part of the lake’s identity. It represents Iceland’s long tradition of respecting the land, acknowledging what is known, and leaving room for what is not.