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It’s time for our annual Cruinniu na mBad here in Kinvara. Cruinniu na mBad is Irish for the Gathering of the Boats (the ‘u’ in Cruinniu and the ‘a’ in mBad should have a ‘fada’ or ‘accent’ over the letter – I have no idea how to do this in a post – can’t find a symbol insert – my apologies).
The Cruinniu is a boat festival founded by Tony Moylan in 1979 to celebrate the link that existed for many years between the village of Kinvara and Connemara. Before gas and electricity came to Kinvara turf was the main fuel used for cooking and heating. Beautiful, red sailed boats called Galway Hookers sailed between Connemara and Kinvara laden with this fuel as the Kinvara area has no bogs. Kinvara in turn filled the hookers with grain and produce for their return journey. A strong trade developed between the two regions using these great old cargo boats.
Every August since 1979 the mighty Galway Hookers visit Kinvara again. Some of the vessels are over 150 years old, others newly built. They’re beautiful. For some reason I can’t even add media this evening – I wanted to share a photo of these craft – if anyone is interested in boats, real boats, dignified, sturdy, matriarchs of the waves – check out http://cruinniunambad.com/.
Cross country – part 2
Cross Country – Part 2
“Where’s my phone? Did I leave my phone in the car?”
“I saw you put it in your bag. Here’s your thingy Clare.” Emer pulled the ipad from her bag and started to hand it back to her daughter. The ear piece caught on the handle.
“Feck!”
“Mum, don’t break it.” Clare hung over the back of the seat as her mother dodged left and right to find a suitable angle for the pass over. The earpiece flew clear of her handbag to hit her on the glasses.
“Jesus! I’m blinded. My eyes, my beautiful eyes!” The glasses were pulled off with a flourish and hands clapped dramatically over eyes. Drama queen.
Maeve poked her with her elbow.
“Will you behave!”
Finola ignored all, pulling a packet of Kit Kats out of her handbag. They were placed neatly in the centre of the table.
I smiled at the carriage window.
“Did you see that lunatic at Kilcolgan?” Finola folded her scarf tidily and placed it carefully over her coat. The coat was also folded, neatly, across her knees. Maeve struggled with hers. It was a beautiful garment, you could sense the softness of the leather as she slid it from her shoulders.
“Move Emer, you’re sitting on my tail.”
Lilly M
“Let back your ears and pull like an ass a girleen! Do we have to play cards? I’m useless at cards. I can’t remember a single game.”
“Comon. It’s mighty craic. You’ll remember as soon as you start. I’ll help you.”
“Oh thanks. You’re the biggest cheat on two legs.”
“What? What! Feck off. I am not!” Maeve sniggered across at me.
“Don’t listen to a word. It’s all lies.”
I smiled back. Hadn’t a clue what else to do really. Clearly I was part of the ebb and flow of their banter. I didn’t mind. They were all around my mother’s age and clearly having fun. A big day out.
Finola clattered Emer across the back of the hand. She was reaching for the Kit Kats.
“Ow! Feck!”.
“Wait for the coffee first.”
“Violence, assault. You saw it! You did didn’t you?” Emer grinned at me.
“I have a witness Finola. Now Ha! A witness. She’ll testify. Won’t you?”
“Will you stop disgracing us,” tutted Maeve as Finola pushed the Kit Kats at me.
Wolfgang Wander, Papa Lima Whiskey (edit)
I politely declined and was immediately sorry. I like Kit Kats. Two teenage heads appeared behind Maeve and Emer. Right on cue. Like fledgling birds they reached for Kit Kats. Maeve handed them back. The chicks dropped back. Emer opened hers immediately and started eating.
“That lad had a death wish,” said Maeve.
“Fecker. Off with him. I gave him the evil eye out the back window you know. Fecker!”
“Should have taken his number and called the guards. We’re lucky we’re here at all.”
Finola tut tutted into her handbag. Maeve checked her phone. Emer squinted over her shoulder.
“She’s coming, she’s coming!”
“Great! Who’s having what? Laoise, Claire, Dee, what are ye having?”
“Tea please”
“Tea.”
“Have they juice?”
“I’m sure they do,” says Finola.
“Here Emer. Pass this back to them and they can do their own ordering. Dee! Emer has a tenner for you! Get the girls something.”
“You can’t do that! Clare! Don’t take money.”
“I can. Clare! Don’t listen to her.”
“Clare! Listen to your mother. Don’t touch…”
“Will you stop, will you? Clare! Don’t listen to your mother. I’m older than her. Get yourself something. Will you let me get my niece a drink. You can get it on the way home.”
“Ok. Clare! Get something really expensive!”
Finola laughed. Maeve was on the phone. She waved at the pair to stop.
“Fine. Fine. There’s a concert tonight so you’ll have to clean up after you and put all the chairs back. I won’t be home until after 9 so I won’t have time to do anything. It starts at 8. Will you? You will! Good. Alright. I’ll see you later.”
“Tea or coffee?”
“I’ll have a coffee.”
Francis A. Fahy – New York Tribune 1902
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NEW YORK TRIBUNE, FEBRUARY 11 1902 PAGE 9
HIGH PRAISE FOR FRANCIS FAHY
Joseph Devlin or Ireland, who is at the Hoffman House with William K. Redmond, M.P., one of the leaders of the United Irish League, said last night:“Although I have just reached America for the first time, I rather suspect that the present literary product of Ireland is but slightly known in America. You all know Tom Moore, of course, but do you know our three leading poets of this generation. W.B.Yeats, Lymal Johnson and Katherine Tynan? W. B. Yeats, whose verse has a mystic strain running through it, is probably the widest read in England, and perhaps here. Another of our writers who deserves attention is Francis Fahy, who write the jolliest sort of songs, bright and witty. Many of them have been set to music by Mrs A. Needham. They are well worth while to read or sing.
Import/Export Ireland 1847
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Wikipedia.org
IMPORT OF PROVISIONS.
THE following arrivals have been entered in the Custom
House since our last publication :
–per Ajax Steamer from London – 209 bags biscuit
Timandra from Cavilla – 2250 quarters Indian Corn
Kate from Galatz – 1300 quarters Indian Corn
Marchioness of Bute – 1300 quarters Indian Corn
Tito from Salonica – 1500 quarters Indian Corn
Minerva Steamer from Liverpool – 355 bags Rice 10 packages Flour
Lima from New Orleans for
Soc. of Friends’ Poor Relief
Committee – 361 barrels Flour
– 598 barrels Indian Corn Meal
– 16 barrels Beans, 6 barrels Pork ; per do.
for American
Consul – 4818 sacks Indian Corn, 42 sacks Wheat
– 25 barrels Flour
– 42 barrels Corn Meal
– 2 barrels Beans
– 2 barrels Beef, 26 sacks Peas
Ballinacurra Lass from
Malta – 890 quarters Indian Corn
Lucinda Jane from
Liverpool – 3500 bushels Indian Corn.
EXPORT OF PROVISIONS.
SINCE our last :-
per Ajax steamer for London – 202 firkins Butter,
– 73 bales Bacon
– 12 casks Hams
– 254 sacks Wheat
– 50 barrels Indian Meal
– 656 sheep
– 33 calves
– 300 boxes eggs
– 50 head cattle
– 90 boxes salmon
Nancy Browne for Newport – 76 head cattle,
Wanderer for New Passage – 230 sheep
William for Newport – 340 sheep
Brothers for Newport – 100 head cattle – 60 sheep
Shannon, for New Passage – 240 sheep, 80 head cattle
Jane and Mary Anne,
for Newport – 110 sheep, 60 head cattle
Nonpareil for Newport – 300 sheep.
Tobarmacduagh, Kinvara – 1832
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TOBARMACUAGH – a description by T.L Cooke of the wells at the foot of Foy’s Hill, Kinvara.
The sojourner at New Quay may, on his return from Pouloushe, pay a visit to one of the wells dedicated to St. Colman, which is situated in the county Galway, a few hundred yards from the Castle of Kinvarra, on the road leading to Ardrahan. This fountain is called “Tubbermacduach”-the well of Duachs’s son or descendant. Here is a small spring of water.
Some years ago, when I furnished an account of this fountain, which was published in the first volume of the Dublin Penny Journal, it was neatly walled in, and shaded by a few hawthorns. In the background stood a blasted and withered ash. It seemed to have long been a companion to the reputed holy fountain, and its blighted aspect formed as sad contrast to the verdure of the glebe and shrubs about it. The upper wall enclosing the well was at that time, apparently, of recent erection, and formed a square of about seven feet to the side, having a stile for the admission of devotees and pilgrims. Beneath the square wall just mentioned, and around it there also stood then (1832) another stone fence of a circular form. This last fence had gone considerably to ruin when I last saw Tubbermacduach. There is a small nitche in the interior of the upper wall, on the left-hand side as you enter by the stile. This serves as a receptacle for a cup, as also for the worthless offerings of those whose over-ardent devotion brings them to pray here. A neat cross of stone was erected in front of the well opposite the high road, and still remains there.
What lies beneath…the old castle at Dunguaire?
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Wikipedia.org
Near the castle already described, but separated from it however by an inlet of the sea, are the ruins of another yet more ancient castle, denominated Dun Guariagh, which signifies “Guaire’s Stronghold.” (I have at present an ancient bottle which was found in a Submarine cellar in this Castle. It is covered with Barnacle shells. – 1860 – T.L. Cooke).
1st of November 1775 – the earth moved in Kinvara – and Aughinish – and Corranrue…
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(Thomas L. Cooke’s rambles 1842/43)
The 1755 tsunami is also thought to have separated the small island of Aughinish, on the southern shores of Galway Bay from Co. Clare. The castle of Corranrue (Norman) was also damaged.
Hacking and leaking
Photo:Rainer Lippert
Wikipedia.org
Sister Mary of the Sacred Heart (aka Hearty)
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Community news and news of great import was once printed on flyers and attached to trees (usually oak) in town/village centres. This was done to reach the widest possible audience. Gossip and scandal was spread by word of mouth. In these instances truth was always the first victim of a good story. Some consolation could be had in the non-discriminatory nature of the gossip. At some point everyone in the village was targeted, irrespective of age, sex, background, socio-economic status, religion or culture. Minority groups were catered for, as were ‘fringe’ elements.
The ‘invention’ of postcards in the mid 1900’s was a Godsend to gossip. They were open and accessible to others than their intended recipients. They were sparse in detail so content often provided the bones of a story while leaving plenty of room for imaginative embellishment (if one felt so inclined). Sometimes just the picture on the front was enough to perpetrate a scandal, and a good one at that.
Then home phones became popular – controlled and managed by switchboard operators – usually from the local post office. The technology was entirely dependent on character and personality. To place a call you had to lift the receiver, crank the handle and (depending on where you lived) wait for the operator to finish their tea/hanging the washing/attending to customers before they’d pick up. Anyone with any manners NEVER called at lunchtime or late at night, unless it was an emergency of unmitigated proportions.
You learned pretty quickly when the operator was in bad form and you learned to adapt accordingly or postpone all intended contact. If you didn’t you might not get connected. Then you had to adapt to their highly individual approaches to phone etiquette. For instances if they decided you talked too much you could get cut off in mid sentence. If they got sick waiting for you to finish you could get cut off. If they needed to be somewhere and you were still talking you could get cut off. If they detected a hint of rudeness your phone was effectively rendered useless. If you didn’t watch your language and the content of your conversation you could get in serious trouble. They might even ring your mother to complain about your manners (yes – it happened).
If you breached these codes or upset the operator and, by default, your mother, you were left with only one option. You had to ring back and apologise for your behaviour. It didn’t matter whether you were right or wrong – you sucked it up, promised there would be no repeat performance and made darn sure there wasn’t.
We learned the importance of self moderation/censorship at a very early age in my village. In hindsight that wasn’t a bad thing.
Supervising (Hacking) and sharing (leaking) were once part and parcel of community life. There were advantages and disadvantages. Fundamentally, if you adapted Sister Mary of the Sacred Heart’s advice never to “write anything you can’t put up on an oak tree” to include phone conversations you couldn’t go wrong. Lesson learned.
Marriage and Music
Creative Commons
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WEDDING BELLS
Richard Kelly and Isabella Eliza Vallancey were married in the Chapel of Ease (CI), Kinvarra, Galway on 22 Jan 1852, prior to their departure for Sydney
A HARMONIUM FOR SEAMOUNT
From the Kentucky Irish American November 24 1900
Dr. Moran, of Gort, has presented a useful harmonium to the Sisters of Mercy at Kinvarra for the benefit of the district schools.
Dunguaire Castle – barracks, bullets and battles
Creative Commons Photo: Postdlf
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In 1842/1843 Tomas L Cooke rambled around Kinvara, Co. Galway and published accounts of his travels in the Galway Vindicator. Dunguaire Castle was one of the sites he visited, which he describes as…
a square building in the fashion of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, and of several stories in height, standing some distance outside the town upon a small elevated peninsula, surrounded by the sea, with the exception of one low and narrow isthmus, that connects it with the main land. A strong and high wall built along the verge of the declivity encloses the court-yard, or bawn. The outer gateway is large, and has an embattled wall with embrazures overhead. It is flanked on the right by a small quadrangular bastion, or tower, which commands it and the outward wall on two sides. In the sides of the tower, just mentioned, there are set in masonry some large stones, perforated with round holes of five or six inches in diameter, apparently intended for exposing the muzzles of small ordnance.
These defences were sorely tested. In Mr Cooke’s words...
The Castle of Kinvarra was, until very recently, used as a Barrack by a military detachment quartered here. The walls circumscribing the bawn, have, in former days been shattered in two of the angles, apparently by the fire of artillery from a sod battery thrown up about two or three hundred yards off, in the direction of Tubbermacduach. The platform of this ancient battery is still visible, and on it are placed at intervals some very large rocks, which, in all probability, served as shelter to the gunners against the fire of matchlocks or other small arms from the castle. It is not very likely that the besieged were altogether inactive or without using fire-arms, during the investment of the place…
Dunguaire Castle – built to last the test of time – and conflict.
