Árni the fisherman and aluminum smelting

I met a relative of mine a few nights ago: frændiminn (the word for a close relative, either an uncle or cousin. His family is part of my closest kin here in Iceland.) He is a journalist, and from some of the stories I heard from him his work is pretty interesting. One of the environmental stories he shared I will recount below in a fictional version because I have not fact checked the information nor am I confident that I can recall all the facts accurately. And I heard subsequent stories from others with similar details from others, so I cannot claim that all this information came from any one person. I do want to learn more facts during my stay here.

Leir took a bus to a pub in one of the suburbs. He wanted to escape the ever pressing wave of tourists that flooded the streets of downtown Reykjavík. There were still tourists in this part of town, but not so many as the centre. He took a seat along the bar. Two tv's were mounted from the ceiling, one showing world cup football, the other played the evening news. An image of long cement buildings, a factory of some sort he presumed, was on the screen. He must have been staring at the tv, because the man next to him said something in Icelandic to him. Leir shook his head, Ensku? He asked.

"Ah, English, I asked if you knew of the smelter?" The man said.
"Oh, no. What is the story?" Leir asked him.
"It's controversial. But I let you know some of the secret details." He said, flashing a sly smile. "It's an American company that built it, back in 2003; moved it from some developing country to here.  Thing is, no one will say the details of the deal they were given, and believe me, it must have been a very good detail to move it all the way up here."
"So no one knows the details? Surely something must have leaked?". Leir asked.
"Of course there are rumours, like free electricity, no taxes, and so on. A couple years before they came, a new, large hydroelectric dam was built on one of the rivers. There was opposition to that but the developers and the government built it anyway. It's all very odd because that region had no unemployment at the time. Fishing was booming, jobs in town were good. A few young people were leaving for Reykjavík but they weren't crying for jobs."
"Okay, sounds normal. Why is it on the news now?" Leir asked with interest.
"Scientists have found high levels of flouride in the soil and surrounding sheep farms. Yet the company denies any contamination and the government refuses to investigate. But a news team did a special on it once, revealing the contamination problems. Now there is a proposal in parliament to hold, something like an inquiry. It's a sore on the east coast for us."
"Sounds like a lot of problems we have back home where I am from. Do you have some sort of personal connection to this story?"
"Yes, I am a fisherman. But I had heart surgery last month, so I am staying with my daughter while I recover."
"That's a big procedure. Are you sure you are ready to be at the pub?" Leir asked him, doubtful. He was not doctor but he was certain recovery from heart surgery could take at least two months or longer.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine." He smiled, drinking his beer.
Leir decided to test one of the few phrases he knew in Icelandic. "Hvar heitir thu?" (what is your name?)
"Ég heiti Árni." The fisherman said, raising his glass to Leir's. "Skoll!"
"Skoll!"