A Glimpse of Ireland

Posted by Dave at 12:00 PM, October 11, 2004

(C) Greenpeace

After yesterday's bad weather, it was a revelation to wake up to blue skies and relatively calm seas. Glancing off the south coast of Ireland, we could see Clear Island (aka Cape Clear) and the Fastnet Lighthouse - a landmark to yachtsmen, especially following the disastrous circumstances of the Fastnet race in 1979, when some 15 sailors were lost, and more than 30 yachts. In August, there was a big ceremony on Clear Island, to mark the 25th anniversary.

For many of the crew, it was their first view of Ireland. Following the coast, we could Dursey and Cow Islands, and into Bantry, Kenmare, and Dingle Bays, and make out the green and purple slopes of the mountains of Cork and Kerry. Bantry Bay is an amazing piece of coastline - full of French Armada history, the coast comes in from Sheep's Head way to Bantry Town, and curves out to the strange subtropical town Glengarriff before sweeping back out to the fishing town of Castletownbere. At the north side of the bay lies Dursey Island. Apparently, the local postman has to load his bicycle onto a cable car, so that he can deliver the mail to the island's inhabitants.

Further north is the beautiful Dingle Bay, home to the famous friendly dolphin, Fungi. As we approach, a couple of jagged islands break the surface - the Skellig Islands. In early Christian Times, these islands were 'home' to a bunch of ascetic monks, who established small monastery on the near-vertical slopes and inhospitable conditions. Tough customers, these early Christians. Maaike, the Esperanza's third mate, thinks the Skelligs look like something from Lord of the Rings.

North of Dingle Bay, and lying offshore from Slea Head, are the Blasket Islands. Not as jagged as the Skelligs, the Blaskets are still a beautiful barren place, at the mercy of the elements. People live here - and have done so for hundreds of years. A century ago, living on these islands meant rarely visiting the mainland. Not because of the distance - they're only a couple of kilometres away - but more due to the fierce seas in between. One of the inhabitants at that time, a woman named Peig Sayers, lost most of her sons to the sea, in their frail wood and canvas 'Currachs'. The sheer simplicity and toughness of the islanders' existence can be found the book she dictated 'Peig' - source of misery to many an Irish school student.

Ireland recedes into the distance, and there's just the Esperanza, the waves, and the seabirds.