Sometimes it’s not writing about political showmanship and skullduggery or economic booms and busts that create good journalism.
Sometimes, it’s the simple quirks of everyday life that make for a good story.
You can imagine my delight in unearthing these two tales of near disaster in Donegal that end happily.
They give new meaning to the term ‘missing people.’
Having to postpone their March 17 national day celebrations didn’t dampen the indomitable spirit of many people in Falcarragh this past weekend – they simply doubled up for Easter and held a bigger parade then. As a reward for such creativity and can-do attitude, the weather was immensely kind, with the rare sight of azure blue skies, a few fluffy white clouds and warm temperatures well into the teens.
Photo by Tony Hillen
So successful was the event, some say there’s now a move afoot to keep the ‘two-fer’ tradition alive – thus making the Donegal Gaeltacht town unique throughout Ireland by unifying twin celebrations in a single grand one. 
Scouts have now been sent out to find a friendly green bunny that has been seen hopping around the area recently to be next year’s Parade Grand Marshall.
So if you’re a Pantheist, a Christian or follow any other faith, whether you believe in the Pagan fertility Goddess Eastre (otherwise known as Easter, Eostur, Eastra, Eastur, Eostra or Eostre), Yeshua (otherwise known as Jesus Christ), Gautama Buddha, Muhammad, Horus, Brahma, Vishnu or Shiva or any other spiritual mentor you admire, then maybe Falcarragh is the place to be next year.
Photo by Tony Hillen
In the immortal words of the Almighty Long-Eared God of Disguise himself, “Eh, what’s up Doc? Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out alive.” 
Finding a killer is no easy matter – more so when government agencies don’t want you to.
That’s why a small team of highly-committed people proudly refer to themselves as ‘raiders of the lost archives’ and this past weekend they arrived in Letterkenny to discuss what they’ve discovered through their painstaking murder investigations.
Paul O’Connor and Anne Cadwallader are leading members of the Pat Finucane Centre, which, for many years, has been forensically examining sensitive British government documents and interviewing hundreds of people to expose the ruthless collusion between Protestant paramilitary extremists who murdered many Catholics, and the RUC, the former northern Irish police service, and the Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR), once the largest regiment in the British Army.
Indeed, their investigations have revealed that some of the cold-blooded murderers were actually full-time or part-time members of the above mentioned ‘security forces’ with easy access to rifles, guns, grenades and other weapons used in the killings.
Some of their findings as revealed at the Station House Hotel Friday evening –
In concluding the evening, O’Connor, the centre’s director, and Cadwallader, a former BBC and RTE journalist, posed a number of questions:
Notes
The Pat Finucane Centre, a non-party political, anti-sectarian human rights group supported by the European Union’s PEACE III programme, is named after a Catholic lawyer who was shot dead by Protestant loyalists in front of his wife and children at his north Belfast home in 1989. A review of the case by Sir Desmond de Silva showed RUC officers proposed that Finucane, 39, be killed, passed information to his killers, then obstructed the murder investigation. The findings have been accepted by the Northern Irish Police Service. While describing the level of state collusion as “shocking,” British Prime Minister David Cameron ruled out a full public inquiry.
The event at the Station House Hotel was organized by Abhaile Arís, an EU funded programme supporting the Republican ex-Prisoner community.
A book produced by Anne Cadwallader (Mercier Press) entitled Lethal Allies: British collusion in Ireland, focuses on 120 killings attributed to loyalist groups between 1972 and 1976. It draws on investigations compiled by a specialist group, the Historical Enquiries Team (HET), which is re-examining deaths during the northern Irish conflict.
Approaching within 30 feet of a minky whale out on the Atlantic takes courage – but such is his concern for the welfare of local marine life that’s exactly what Gareth Doherty did recently.
With the sighting of so many such baleen whales off the northwest Donegal coast over the last few weeks, Doherty, a skilled seaman (he manages Selkie Sailing in Gaoth Dobhair) and knowledgeable environmentalist, realized it would be a prime opportunity to try to identify them and monitor their movements and thus understand better the thriving whale population off Irish coastal waters.
“It is only by recording the twenty-four cetacean species recorded thus far in Irish waters that we can protect them,” he said. “The fact that so many are now visiting us is wonderful news.”
Doherty also believes that greater numbers of such healthy marine animals locally means greater opportunities to both educate people about this vital segment of sea-life and strengthen environmental tourism efforts throughout Donegal.
Here is yet another local cultural tourism-cum-educational project worthy of financial support. Udaras na Gaeltachta, the state-sponsored economic support group in the area, has refused to pay for much-needed equipment for Selkie Sailing.
Readers of this blog and of a series of articles I penned for the Donegal News will remember Gareth for the sterling work he and others did to bring important publicity about the plight of a pod of stranded whales at Ballyness beach in Falcarragh earlier this year.
Not only did Gareth and colleagues highlight the stark inadequacies, both in equipment and training, of the National Parks and Wildlife Service to deal with such incidents (it has since become known that Donegal wildlife officials didn’t even take sample tissue from any of the dead whales to ascertain what may have stranded them and led to their slow suffocation) but they also banded together to organize marine lifesaving training programs for people that continue even now.
Visiting my Bun na Leaca home recently, Gareth said his intention was also to launch a series of educational visits to local schools to make presentations about the importance of marine life around our shores. It is an excellent idea and there seems no more qualified and enthusiastic a person to host such a program than Gareth.
Minke whales grow to about nine meters in length, weigh around 10 tons and can live about 50 years. Their bodies are dark grey to black on the back and lightening to white on the belly and undersides of the flippers. There are often areas of light grey on the flanks, one just above and behind the flippers and the other behind the head. Those in the northern hemisphere usually have a diagonal white band on the upper surface of each flipper. Smallest of the seven great whales, minkes often enter estuaries, bays and inlets and feed around headlands and small islands.
Updates can be checked on Selkie Sailing.
The Irish Whale and Dolphin Group assisted with local training programs.
As a Donegal blow-in, I’ve just completed what some here in Ireland’s ‘Forgotten County’ call a key ‘rite de passage.’
‘Wee Jimmy’ – a winger with panache and a Celtic footballing hero.
On the invitation of Celtic Football Club management, I made my first-ever visit recently not only to the historic city of Glasgow – where half the people in Donegal seem to have originated, and vice-versa – but also to the venerable stadium known as Parkhead, home of the Hoops, an illustrious team that has become nothing less than a cultural icon for many generations.
So, on a crisp, dry Saturday afternoon, two hours before kick-off against third-placed Inverness Caley Thistle, I found myself walking along a long inner corridor on the upper tier of the stadium lined with the framed autographed shirts of former players including Ireland’s captain, Robbie Keane, Honduran Emilio Izaguirre, Swede Henrik Larsson, Charlie Mulgrew and Kris Commons.
Two gray-haired Celts – Professor Pia (l), footballing expert – ahead of game time.
Within minutes, I was seated in the warm comfort of Café 1888 (the year the club was formed) enjoying a tasty lunch rapidly replenished with alcoholic beverage learning about the trials and tribulations not only of Celtic but of Scottish football in general.
And according to the man sitting opposite me – and no better person to grant illuminating insights than someone who has penned not one but three excellent books on Scottish football (‘The Quiet Man’, ‘Scotland’s For Me’ and ‘Sunshine on Leith’) – footie across the water is not in a healthy state.
Not withstanding that my companion, Simon Pia, long-time journalist and now professor at leading universities in both Edinburgh and Glasgow, has been a ‘Hibbies’ (those persons, who for reasons most bemusing to many Celtic supporters, support Hibernian FC) and that his team now lingers in the shadows of the second division, his insights into the sport in his native land were thoughtful and well considered.
With Scotland battling Ireland this Friday in the Euro Championships, captain Robbie could be a deciding factor.
With money in short supply – at least compared to the massive amounts enjoyed by teams in the English league – Simon’s view is that Scottish football will remain mediocre and largely uncompetitive for the foreseeable future. And with Celtic’s arch Glaswegian rival, Rangers, declaring bankruptcy and being dumped unceremoniously into the second division more than a year ago, even that spark of zesty competition has been extinguished (though the two teams will face off in the League Cup semi-final soon – the first time they’ve met each other for two years).
Setting patriotism aside, or indeed lauding it, Pia – a product of Italian sperm that migrated to Edinburgh many years ago and who was my close pal at London journalism college a world ago – believes top teams such as Celtic would do better playing in the premier league down south.
Hibbies gracefully acknowledging illustrious history of the Hoops.
“Facing the likes of Manchester United, Chelsea and Arsenal would certainly draw in the big crowds again and probably help other Scottish teams do better in domestic competitions and thus compete on the European stage more often, which would help improve the quality of the game here,” he said.
As for the match itself that day, real excitement was in short supply. The Hoops, under manager Ronnie Deila, struggled to break down a resilient Inverness defense. In the end, a single second-half goal by star forward John Guidetti allowed them to leap over their opposition and into third place, though two late goalmouth scrambles almost sent the visitors home to the banks of Loch Ness in triumph.
Whether good or bad for Scottish football, there are few saying Celtic, the richest team in the league, will not end up winning the premiership for the fourth successive year – especially after leaping to the top with a last-minute winner against Aberdeen on Sunday.
However, after talking to Simon, learning his team was founded by Irish immigrants (thus the nickname ‘Cabbage and Ribs’ and the harp symbol on the shirt) and listening to one of its wonderful musical anthems ‘Sunshine on Leith’ by The Proclaimers, I’m more interested in seeing the Greens promoted than what’s happening in the top division.
But please don’t tell anyone from west Donegal. I’m due to get my residency permit any day.
Crowds start to gather before kick-off at Parkhead.
Checking your knowledge of Celtic, here are three questions from that day’s match program:
If you cannot answer these questions, you probably should watch this video Sunshine On leith CIS Final – BBC and listen to the song. I’ll see you at Easter Road.
Hoopy the Huddle Hound, Celtic’s lovable mascot (in foreground), supervises the team line-ups.
Meeting someone who travels the world investigating fairytales and a Gothic expert who specialises in all things spooky and supernatural as well as seeing a vampire killing kit – these were among highlights of my pre-Halloween sojourn this past week in Dublin.
Asked to give a lecture separating historical fact from literary fiction associated with Irish author, Bram Stoker, his arch character, Dracula, and medieval warlord, Vlad the Impaler, I was delighted to stand Saturday afternoon before a capacity audience in the Mansion House, the Lord Mayor’s official residence, relating my adventures researching ‘Digging for Dracula.’
Imagine my surprise when confronted by Dracula Junior and his mother in the ghostly grounds of Dublin Castle last Friday night.
Now an annual event, the Bram Stoker Festival took place at various suitably atmospheric venues including the eerie, shadowy Chapel Royale inside the grounds of Dublin Castle and the Samuel Beckett Theatre deep within the cobbled-confines of Trinity College, where Ireland’s 19th century best-selling novelist was once a humble student.
(l to r) Enjoying the company of Vanessa Fox O’Loughlin founder of the Inkwell Group and organiser of the festival’s literary programme; Professor Bill Hughes, Bath Spa University; and Angela Dinu, an authentic Transylvanian from Brasov.
Such is the fascination with Stoker’s immortal long-toothed Transylvanian Count, the festival events earlier this week attracted hundreds of people, both speakers and participants. Before and after my talk I was approached by people from places as diverse as Rome, Warsaw and Las Vegas, all keen to discuss ‘beyond-the-grave’ mysteries.
Christa Thompson, from Florida, travels throughout the world investigating and writing about folk stories, while Ed Mooney, from Kildare, combines his passion for photography with his deep interest in history, ancient sites, folklore and mythology. Much of Edwards’ free time is now spent traveling around the Irish countryside in search of his next adventure, which he fondly refers to as ‘ruin-hunting.‘
(l to r) In the delightful company of Intrepid folklore investigators from Ireland and the US.
Lara Musto, a highly-qualified librarian and researcher, originally from Rome was among the participants. She said she had been fascinated by Bram Stoker’s work ever since she was a child, “Believe it or not, my father used to read me vampire stories at bed-time, and they helped me sleep. So you can imagine, I’ve really enjoyed the talks I’ve attended here in Dublin during the festival.”
Asked the inevitably question whether I believed in the infamous nocturnal blood-sucking creatures (known as ‘strigoi’ in Romanian folklore), I answered, both evasively and diplomatically, I must admit: “Just because something is written about doesn’t mean it’s true. But then again, just because we don’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not.” What else could I say? Not having seen either Donegal fairies or Transylvanian vampires, I remain doubtful but very much open-minded.
Credit must go to the Bram Stoker Festival organisers who provided a plethora of delightful activities for everyone. These ranged from walks with experienced guide, Pat Liddy who brought to life spine-chilling tales such as Stoker’s ‘Dracula;’ Irish Gothic writer Sheridan Le Faanu’s ‘Carmilla’ and Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray;’ book readings and a cosy Q&A with authors Lynne Truss and Joanna Briscoe who penned ghostly tales for Hammer Classics, an imprint of Random House; and lively music every night. Light-hearted humor was the hallmark of a funky ‘Literary Death March’ at Smock Alley Theatre, where writers such as Lynn Shepherd read their work and competed with others before a panel of judges, with audience participation in a rousing literary quiz finale.
Flying witches, goblins and vampires – all part of the Bram Stoker Festival in the Oak Room of the Mansion House in Dublin.
The festival – sponsored by Failte Ireland and Dublin City Council – also featured a tantalising discussion entitled ‘Madness and Sexuality’ at which Paul Murray, a former cultural attaché at the Irish Embassy in London and a Stoker biographer, and two doctors, one a psychiatrist, discussed Stoker’s state of sanity when he penned his macabre bestseller.
Much to my surprise, the ‘vampire killing kit’ was among strange artefacts at a special exhibit entitled ‘BLOOD’ at the Science Gallery beside Trinity College, hosted to coincide with the Stoker festival. The ‘kit’ was neatly arranged inside a glass case and included a gun with silver bullets and a hammer and wooden stake (best, I suppose, to be prepared for all eventualities).
Gun with silver bullets, a crucifix and a hammer with wooden stakes of various sizes – all elements in a vampire killing kit.
I was shocked to read in a leading Donegal newspaper editorial over the last few days that John McNulty had behaved ‘with dignity’ over his recent Fine Gael botched Senate nomination.
Let’s call a spade a spade.
The last thing Mr. McNulty behaved with was dignity. He condoned the onward march of cronyism and ‘stroke politics’ thus giving his full support to this age-old blight on Irish society.
John McNulty – guilty as charged, complicity to hoodwink. Photo courtesy Independent Newspaper.
Selling Mars bars at a Mace grocery shop in Stranorlar hardly qualifies Mr. McNulty to contribute much, if anything, to the development of the Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA) (unless his business is merely a front for a secret network of art collectors storing priceless Van Gogh’s under the petrol pumps). There are many throughout the country with decades of high-level experience in the arts sector and thus much more qualified than he.
Yet when Fine Gael spin-doctors whispered in his ear they’d pull a few strings and shove him on the (already full) board, thus giving him an easier ride into the Senate, he leapt like a deer in heat, omitting to point out the simple fact that he was completely unqualified for such a key position.
In doing so, the 37-year-old Kilcar man is as guilty as those people – mainly under Fianna Fail’s governing stewardship – who greedily grabbed places on other boards such as FAS and the Central Remedial Clinic and proceeded to claim hefty payments and generous expenses on the backs of struggling tax-payers. (Fianna Fail actually rushed 182 of their members on to public boards in the dying days of its last reign).
It must also be remembered that, far from being a credible Senate nominee, Mr. McNulty failed to even get elected to Donegal County Council having won just over 800 votes in May, less than half of the quota required for the six-seat electoral area. In fact, he finished the race at the rear of the pack at a distant 10th place.
Choosing him shows just how desperate Fine Gael are to shore up its political representation in Donegal, especially with the additional failure of John Curran, its choice for the Udaras board, to get elected to the local council (in great part over his willingness to hand over more than a million euro of tax-payers money to the Catholic nuns to run an addiction center in Falcarragh when there’s already one in Donegal, and after the dead babies scandal in Tuam). With Donegal South-West deputy Dinny McGinley due to retire at the next election, Curran’s failure and now McNulty’s means there’s nobody in place as a successor.
John Curran – until recent local elections, was being groomed as potential successor to TD Dinny McGinley?
Public boards or private clubs?
In a bizarre twist to the tale, Fine Gael Arts Minister Heather Humphreys said in the Dail this week that Mr. McNulty was appointed to the board of IMMA “on the balance of talent and experience.” That’s a joke. The minister then added that she and her party were committed “to using the public appointments procedure in line with the guidelines.” That’s an even bigger joke. It recently emerged that at least two of the six appointees to the Board of the Heritage Council last year were made by her colleague Minister Jimmy Deenihan in contravention of that very same formal application process.
Further, a 2012 report by the Institute of Directors In Ireland on state boards showed concern at the lack of transparency around the appointment process and the lack of consideration given to the skills required to fill them. Since then, board positions have featured on Government department websites and advertised via the Public Appointments Service but some describe this as ‘pure window-dressing’. The McNulty situation, and perhaps the Curran one too, are cases in point.
Plain-speaking (maybe too plain) Minister for Health Leo Varadkar said election to the parliament of a candidate who has withdrawn – as McNulty has done to avoid further embarrassment – would not be good thing for the political process. Duh, really?
Obviously, the only way forward is to make the recruitment process entirely transparent, minimise government involvement in choosing appointees, and actively engage individuals with the appropriate skill set to fulfill these positions.
Fine Gael’s Arts Minister Heather Humphreys in the Dail struggling to deflect accusations of cronyism and stroke politics. Photo courtesy RTE News
No crying over spilled milk
Ultimately, however, we have only ourselves to blame.
Most of those who voted for Fine Gael over Fianna Fail three years ago knew deep in their hearts exactly what they were doing. Being conservative, as we Irish are by virtue of our Catholic upbringing, we voted for one party knowing full well deep down it was little different to the other. Then we deigned to pat ourselves on the back for ‘taking a bold stand.’
What baloney! Ours was nothing less than a cowardly act.
To make matters worse, when we had the chance to regain some degree of pride and do away with a Senate that is, and always has been since the foundation of the state, a complete and utter waste of public money, we declined to follow our instincts and put pen to paper. How could any of us vote for such an anachronistic and discriminatory institution highlighted by the fact that with so many worthy universities and colleges throughout Ireland, only two – Trinity College Dublin and the National University of Ireland – are permitted to have Senators? Not to mention that 11 Senators are simply appointed on the whim of the Taoiseach. No elections, no vote.
Padding expenses? Investigations well underway on shenanigans of Fianna Fail’s Brian O’Domhnaill: Handsome salary as Senator not enough?
Today the Irish Senate, unlike the American one, stands as a perfect model of cronyism and stroke politics, with even appointed party members such as Donegal’s very own Fianna Fáil Senator Brian Ó Domhnaill under investigation for milking the system by duplicating expenses.
We tossed away the opportunity to fling the Senate into the bin of history where it firmly belongs. Let’s not now cry over spilled milk. Like McNulty’s reluctance to apologise publicly for his complicity in attempting to hoodwink us ordinary folk, it’s so undignified.
An earlier post – Cultural tourism: its time is nigh – highlighted the immense potential for cultural tourism in the Donegal Gaeltacht to help fill the vacuum left by failed government policies, mainly by Údarás na Gaeltachta, to provide jobs and prevent the departure of our dynamic young to foreign shores.
With the pursuit of major manufacturing companies a lost cause mainly due to difficult and expensive transport logistics and call centres being a short-term band-aid, cultural tourism has been an underused weapon in the battle against rising unemployment and severe economic decline in the Gaeltacht.
While some say a minority of people such as language-based entrepreneur Liam Cunningham in Glencolmcille have become tourism millionaires, mainly based on national and international grants with Cunningham perhaps reaping the benefits of his chairmanship of Údarás for over a decade (whether questionable or not, meaning within ethical parameters, is a topic for future discussion), the depth of funding to other local cultural tourism entrepreneurs has been sparse.
The reason, according to Udaras officials, is that cultural tourism doesn’t create long-term jobs. Asked why, officials are at a loss to explain, so what this long-held and somewhat irrational attitude is based on is a matter of pure conjecture, with some critics saying the real reason is unrelated to accepted principles of economic development but rather linked to cronyism, influence peddling and continued support, financial and otherwise, to Fianna Fail, a party that ruled the roost for so long and put certain people in key executive positions.
While the accuracy of this allegation requires further investigation, what is important to note is what other parts of Ireland and beyond have done – and are doing – to reap healthy benefits from committed policies to cultural tourism development and analyze whether the Donegal Gaeltacht has – to put it succinctly – ‘got what it takes.’
At a largely EU-funded conference earlier this year under the auspices of CeangalG and with the catchphrase ‘Selling Our Story,’ speaker after speaker talked about interesting cultural tourism ideas that have produced positive measurable results, including increased job creation. Many of the speakers agreed that key components for such success include ‘identity,’ ‘authenticity’ and ‘memorability.’
In my opinion, the Latin term ‘genius loci’ (spirit of place) best describes what the central element is – the specific nuances of any given place that separate it from the rest of the world.
So, does the Donegal Gaeltacht have what it takes?
In a word, yes!
Cherishing an ancient language that proudly holds its place among the oldest in the known world; with the singing tradition of sean-nós, whose ornamented, rhythmic intimations are an inspirational reminder of the primordial beginnings of Man; and with the area’s unique traditional dance and music, disparate elements of ‘genius loci’ are plentiful. Not to mention the intriguing Celtic legends such as those related to Balor and Lugh, thus the Mount of Lugh (now called Errigal) named after the ancient Sun God.
Having had the privilege over the last 30 years of travelling as a journalist on assignment to many parts of the world, I considered some of the places I’ve visited and successful cultural tourism projects there, projects that have not only strengthened the economic vitality of deprived areas but also uplifted the innate spirit and pride of the local population.
Here are a few, some which might just provide models of excellence for the Donegal Gaeltacht.
Creative engineering in Nantes, France, has led to economic revival based on cultural tourism.
Nantes, France – Earlier this year, I travelled to this western town in the Pays Loire region to see such a project. Faced with empty industrial estates, local officials had decided to invest in cultural tourism to create jobs using the existing space and infrastructure.
Realizing how watching ships return to this riverside port with exotic cargo from around the world inspired a young Jules Verne to later write science-fiction classics as ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea’ and ‘Journey to the Centre of the Earth,’ the officials embarked on a project that now attracts tens of thousands of visitors annually. Entitled ‘Les Machines de L’Ile’ and opened in 2007, it is a 21st-century mechanical wonderland consisting of monumental structures including the, ‘Grand Elephant,’ ‘Mantra Ray,’ ‘Sea Snake,’ ‘Heron Tree,’ and ‘World Carousel’ in what is known as the ‘Gallery of Machines’ upon which visitors enjoy adventure rides and experiences. Last year alone, almost 100,000 people rode on the Grand Elephant; 190,000 people visited the gallery and 250,000 the ‘World Carousel.’ Total investment – in various stages – was 17.7 million euro, a sum that was recouped within a few years. In comparison, according to Údarás, Largo Foods received around seven million euro in funding and left the area earlier this year.
Not only did the project increase business revenues, it also created permanent, long-term new jobs in central workshops employing such tradespeople as plumbers, carpenters and engineers. Could a project like this – using local legendary Celtic figures as central subjects – not help deal with the empty industrial spaces throughout west Donegal, while attracting more tourists to the area?
Puppetry, an age-old tradition in Sicily, attracts tourists and locals alike, providing both entertainment and cultural education.
Palermo, Sicily – Like west Donegal, this rocky island at the toe of Italy has generally been ignored by the central government in Rome. Faced with worsening employment, local officials took matters into their own hands. Seizing on a peculiar and unique vein of cultural heritage dating back hundreds of years to the time of Socrates – puppetry – they created a flourishing tourism attraction that has boosted business and employment.
‘Opera dei pui’ (puppet theater) has a long tradition in Sicily, reaching its peak around 100 years ago on the island. With support from the Association for Conservation of Popular Traditions, visitors to the downtown Palermo puppet museum can now see hundreds of beautifully designed puppets, their masters’ equipment (mestiere), as well as other memorabilia, and regularly-staged shows involving cultural characters and chivalrous heroes such as Orlando, Rinaldo and Gano di Maganza. So strong has been the resurgence of interest in this long-held tradition, puppet theatre performances – that also play an important educational role in highlighting the island’s history –take place in other parts of Sicily. Again, using local legendary figures and stories, can the Donegal Gaeltacht not avail of a similar cultural tourism initiative? A creative team under the guidance of Kathleen Gallagher has already shown the level of know-how required for such a project.
Donegal flag flies high over one of the area’s most well-known shipwrecks opposite Ostan Gaoth Dobhair. Many others lie offshore, spanning centuries of history.
Key West, Florida – before it became a hotspot for tourism, this area on the tip of the peninsula was a backward, forgotten place in the 1800s where local fishermen and their families led difficult hand-to-mouth existences. Only when the phrase ‘Wreck Ashore!’ rang out did hope for better things arise. ‘Unloading’ the many ships that ran into difficulty was a chore, but a most rewarding one.
Seizing upon this colourful aspect of the area’s history, local officials decided to create an attraction that would be both entertaining, as well as educational. Thus, the ‘Key West Shipwreck Museum,’ where visitors step back in time to discover Key West’s unique maritime heritage. The museum combines actors, video and actual artefacts from the rediscovery of wrecked vessels such as the Isaac Allerton, which sank in 1856 on the treacherous Florida Keys reef.
Narrator and master wrecker, Asa Tift, and his wrecking crew tell the story of how this unusual industry created livelihoods for the early pioneers of Key West. Visitors can even climb a 65-foot lookout tower in search of wrecks.
West Donegal, with its rich maritime heritage and its record of shipwrecks, including the sinking of Spanish Armada galleons off Tory and Gola Islands plus other vessels, both military from the two world wars and commercial, offers a similar historical backdrop to Key West. What’s to prevent officials funding such a project – except, of course, narrow-minded thinking and lack of specialised business acumen?
Columba, considered saintly by some, charismatic by others, was a bit of a ‘cute whore,’ a caustic and cantankerous character, a male chauvinist, thrifty to the point of miserliness and perhaps a non-entity who did diddly squat except be a pawn for powerful war lords vying over territory in early Ireland.
Such are the colorful views of some leading historians, archaeologists and writers gathered recently in what is considered the Celtic mystic’s ‘home place’ of west Donegal to deconstruct aspects of the legendary fellow’s life. The three-day conference at Loch Altan Hotel, Gortahork, was organized by The Islands Book Trust, led by John Randall, ably assisted by the ever-helpful Mairi NicChoinnich, in association with Colmcille Éirinn is Alba.
Rural west Donegal – the area is considered the ‘home place’ of the legendary Columba. Photo by Alan Sproull
So who then was responsible for some of the magnanimous stories about this larger-than-life character and his supposedly ‘unEarthly’ powers and their ultimate adoption as mainstream belief? A new, ambitious group hell-bent on making sure it rose to the top of the ‘Champions League of Religions’ table, that’s who. Not an easy task, mind you, for developing Christianity faced well-established teams of equally high calibre, many with loyal fan bases, catchy club anthems, ambient arenas and good-looking kits – all well-suited to the emotional needs and superstitions of Irish people around 2,000 years ago.
To compete with the Red Devils, Gunners, Barças, Reals, Inters and Juves of the religious world, Christianity had to go on the transfer market to strengthen its position. And it didn’t much waste time about doing so either, quickly transferring a bunch of Pagan symbols – wells, crosses, incense, wreaths, bells, chants, ceremonies – even wedding rings – under its spreading angelic wings.
But that wasn’t enough. With solid defensive work and fine attacking play, opposing teams held out well against them.
Then leaders of the new movement put their collective heads together and in an illuminated moment of intellectual brilliance (in lingo religiosa ‘the Holy Spirit came upon them’) realized the one vital ingredient missing from their strategy – the persuasive power of an ancient, as well as modern, condition known commonly as ‘celebratitis.’
Using Pagan symbols such as the cross, Columba may have persuaded tribes-people to a different way of thinking.
So, as one does when one has rising aspirations of political greatness, they created a sub-committee. A subcommittee with the sole purpose of weaving together stories on selected individuals, stories so grandiose and wondrous they’d make celebrities out of any plain Peter, Paul and Mary, alive or dead. In fact, their preferred choice was the latter, for among all the beliefs abounding – then and now – there’s one you can be pretty damn sure of –- it’s difficult to argue with a corpse.
Thus was born the legend of Columba – about whom, conveniently for his ‘handlers,’ conjecture heavily outweighs fact.
Hell-bent on their mission, monks of the newly-fashioned Christian organization created a carefully-crafted chronology of the fellow’s life that they entitled ‘Chronicles of Iona’ but while others mention a library in Kilmacrennan where it might have been housed, no-one has found a single shred of evidence of it (or such evidence, for reasons of strategy, has been craftily shifted to location unknown). A censored part of it is in the ‘Annals of Ulster.’ In it is included details of what they purport to be miracles (seemingly the head gaffer put around a memo to his fellow brethren asking for submissions as they were a bit short on anecdotes) and other material supporting their cause, including their anti-woman crusade (all contributions welcome as to the origin of this particular stance). For example, Columba is supposed to have banished all women from Iona, warning others to be wary of them, not to give them too much power, or – interestingly – too much water, one conference speaker claimed.
As for his alleged saintliness, historians indicate Columba – like many other monks of the time – often believed the secular to be more sacred than the spiritual and were mere ciphers for rival, warring factions, at a time when churches were placed on territorial borders as symbolic deterrents or markers. It is believed Dai Riada, the king of the area associated with Columba, might have wanted to expand his holdings and used our fellow solely for that reason.
Fired up by his missionary zeal, Columba also supposedly skedaddled hither and thither all over Europe. But, just as in the case of saints’ relics, he’d have to have been cloned to be in all the places he is supposed to have been, doing the things he is supposed to have been doing. Some believers, for example, say he was not only involved in discovering the holy wells of Derry but was the actual founder of that particular northern Irish city. There’s little contemporary evidence of this. Due to the gap of years between his death (around 593) and the city’s founding, he’d have to have been a time-travelling vampire to have accomplished the task. Another monk, Augustine, is more central to Derry, having established a church there since the 600s AD. At best, Columba’s favorite Uncle Fiachra was Derry’s founder but again evidence even of this is severely lacking.
According to Christian slant, Columba is also thought to have brought back the so-called Gospel of Martin from Tours in France. Please don’t ask me to accept this on ‘blind faith.’ That’s like the blind leading the blind, and there’s no easier way to go astray than that. More likely, with spelling in those days being less than precise and Tory Island known in documents as Toraigh, Toirinis and Tourensis, it was a case of geographical misplacement (or story enhancement).
Iona – a windswept Scottish island that reflects the heritage of the legendary Celtic mystic.
Even the much talked about Battle of Cúl Dreimne near Ben Bulben in Sligo – allegedly fought over Columba’s illegal copying of a book (‘to every cow its calf and to every book its copy’) and his banishment to Iona – this may simply have been the workings of an over-imaginative scribe in a cloistered scriptorium. Instead, the battle may have been over the killing of man, who was under Columba’s protection, by Diarmait mac Cerbaill, High King of Tara. Some say the leader of a monastic settlement in Inismurray Island, Sligo, then told Columba bluntly it would be‘better’ to high-tail it out of town and across the water (others say he may have left out of guilt at causing so much bloodshed).
Regardless, what seems to be true is that there was no love lost between Columba and Diarmait. Diarmait, the last High King to worship in the Pagan manner and who celebrated the Feast of Tara, the pagan inauguration ceremony, was not keen on this new Christian doctrine, seeing it as an opportunistic usurper. The Irish annals include a reference to him even building druid fences on the battlefield.
As for Columba being caustic and cantankerous, word has it that he’d simply curse people he didn’t like. One man who pretended he was asleep to avoid talking to him ended up snoozing for a year and a day. Poked in the eye by a reed while tying his shoe, Columba cursed all reeds, thus the reason they’re brown and no longer sharp. After slipping on a salmon…… well, I’ll let you conjure up for yourself what curse Columba might have bestowed upon those innocent little creatures.
Amidst all the fact, fiction and propaganda, what emerges is that Pagan leaders and Christian monks and their supportive warring chieftains battled each other for territorial advantage and the spoils of victory that came with it.
Whether you believe Columba was your average Joe Blow or a saint, a term open to so many interpretations (one speaker at the Gortahork conference referred to him as “a bit of a James Bond character”), the cult that grew around him makes for fascinating anthropological and sociological discussion.
That is why the Slí Cholmcille (Slighe Chaluim Chille) project, a partnership between Foras na Gaeilge and Bòrd na Gàidhlig, could be a boon for cultural tourism. After hundreds of years, wouldn’t it be nice for communities, and not only the church, to benefit from such a legendary figure? Developing Ireland’s very own ‘Santiago Columba’ into a successful pilgrimage project could attract thousands to both western Scotland and Ireland.
For further information, see the book by University College Cork’s Máire Herbert (Iona, Kells, and Derry: The History and Hagiography of the Monastic Familia of Columba) and Brian Lacey’s (Saint Columba: His Life & Legacy).
A note of caution: when reading about Columba and his exploits it is probably helpful to keep in mind the old adage – ‘History is written by the victors.’
A poem attributed to Columba is also worth musing upon –
“If poet’s verses be but fables
So be food and garments fables
So is all the world a fable
So is man of dust a fable.”
Nothing is worse in life than waiting for death.
Especially if that death is an excruciatingly slow and painful one.
That’s why it was so heart-wrenching to watch a pod of 13 beautiful adult long-finned male and female pilot whales and their children suffocate slowly – over five horrific days – at Ballyness beach near Falcarragh this week.
One of the stranded pilot whales, a highly-intelligent member of the dolphin family, lies struggling for breath on Ballyness Beach, Falcarragh, west Donegal.
Heart-wrenching because there must be – and is – another, more humane, way to deal, with such a tragic situation. And the Irish authorities, in their usual bumbling, bureaucratic manner, haven’t cottoned on to it.
In other countries, including those in Europe as well as Australia and New Zealand, people are encouraged to come with buckets of water and towels when whales become stranded ashore, to help them survive, to prevent their sensitive skin from being burned up, until efforts can be made to return them to the waters from which they came. At Ballyness, there were reports of the authorities actually turning people back from doing so, including a young woman who was bringing glasses of saltwater to pour over the eye of a dying whale.
Local people look on helpless as a pod of pilot whales struggle to re-enter deep waters. Photo by Joe Boland
How ironic. After all, it is usually us, humans, that cause such tragic situations in the first place. Pilot whales, 16 to 20 feet in length and highly-intelligent members of the dolphin family, usually live offshore, following and feeding at a depth of between 2,000 and 10,000 feet along the corridor of the Continental Shelf, which lies around 50 miles off Tory Island, according to local environmentalist, Gareth Doherty. If you see them near shore something is badly wrong. Through the dumping of toxic waste in the ocean and from tolerating – often unauthorized – military submarine activity, both of which interfere with marine animals’ natural sonar systems, we force vulnerable whales, as well as dolphin and other species, into shallow water where they become trapped and struggle for breath. Think of yourself drowning – very, very slowly. Think of a plastic bag being pulled tight over your face and you trying to breathe, realizing the next breath might be your last. That gives you some idea of the torture our close cousin, the whales – mammals just like us – went through this week at Ballyness beach, west Donegal.
That’s tragedy in itself. Worse is that what happened this week could have been prevented. Or at least dealt with in a less cruel fashion.
Coastguard Joe Curran (in orange) and Gareth Doherty talk to Austrian Antonia Leitner about whale activity in the area.
Unlike many countries, Ireland doesn’t even have a formal, official SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) in place so that the various organisations – Gardai, health authorities, Dongal County Council, National Parks and Wildlife, the Irish Whale and Dolphin Group – know exactly what to do in a difficult situation like the one this week at Ballyness. Consequently, delays occur, and delays are crucial in such situations, literally the difference between life and death. Some authorities were telling people not to go near the whales, others were letting them do so. When asked about this, the inevitable response from wildlife and parks officials – most of which have a passion for animal safety – was that marine animals are protected in the wild in Ireland. However, stranded whales by the nature of the situation are obviously not ‘in the wild.’ Their response to this: ‘rules are rules, we have to follow protocol.’
In some countries, a task force has been set up and vets specially trained to deal with such large mammals in such distress, even to administer opiates as a mean of ‘mercy killing’ to put the unfortunate animals out of their misery. Not in Ireland, even though such a task force has been ‘under discussion’ for quite some time.
Efforts underway by local environmentalists to try to save some of the struggling pilot whales. Photo by Joe Boland
Remember, the stranding and deaths of the 13 whales at Ballyness is not the only example. There have been 13 such whale strandings over the last year in Donegal. Not to mention the 32 whales on Rutland Island two years ago, all left to die, then cut up and transported to Cavan where they were burned in an incinerator. Have you any idea how much that whole operation cost? Tens of thousands of euro in hard-earned public money wasted by Donegal county council – money for the hire of JCB diggers and their drivers simply to be on stand-by – just waiting for the whales to die; costly overtime for Gardai and personnel of the National Parks and Wildlife – just waiting for the whales to die; transport trucks; butchers for the cut-up of the bodies; fees for incineration. That money could have been better used for proper equipment to try to push the whales back into the water – some would survive, others might not, but we’ve got to try. That money could have been used to purchase the opiates; for training of vets; for sending blubber samples to laboratories – as they do in many other countries – to find out what is causing the strandings in the first place.
It’s no wonder we Irish are the laughing stock of Europe, and beyond. It’s long past time Irish authorities faced up to their responsibilities in the proper manner. Whether it’s caring for our precious wildlife; dealing with crooked bankers; or organizing a bloody country-and-western music concert, we just seem to cock things up.
Gareth Doherty, environmentalist and wildlife enthusiast with Selkie Sailing, Derrybeg, and colleagues, observe the efforts of pilot whales as they try to make their way back out to sea. Photo by Joe Boland
And we will continue to cock things up – until Irish people wake up, realize they’re being made a fool of and use their voices and their feet to put an end to it.
Instead of letting children bounce up and down on the backs of dying whales, as some parents did at Ballyness this week, or carving their names on their backs, what about people setting up a petition table at Falcarragh crossroads (and/or one online, I can help someone set this up)? Is there a better time to start than today, Friday, market day, and for the next few weeks, calling for changes in regulations to prevent toxic dumping, restrict military submarine activity and allow for more humane care of marine animals dying around our coast?
Search-and-rescue missions will continue this weekend as further sightings of beached whales and other species reach local coastguard stations. Bunbeg Coastguard Joe Curran and Gareth Doherty, with Selkie Sailing in Derrybeg, spent hours sweeping in and around the inlets of Gola, Owey, Inis Oirthir and Inis Meain islands seeking evidence of whales in difficulty to save them.
“They are wonderful species and deserve whatever help we can provide, like us, they’re of Nature,” said Curran, as he sped from fishing boats to sailing crafts enquiring whether anyone had seen unusual activity (see photo above).
Added Doherty, who managed with others, to push two of the dying whales back into the water for safety, “This tragedy highlights the need for all of us to be extra careful in how we treat the environment around us, whether that be land or sea. Some of the workings of Mother Nature are best left alone, but we can make our environment safer. Keeping our water, our beaches, clean of toxin poisons is key.”
Beached whales associated with sonar show evidence of physical trauma, including bleeding in their brains, ears and internal tissues, often symptoms that in humans seem a severe case of decompression sickness, or ‘the bends.’ Sonar may affect whales’ dive patterns, said Andrew Speer, conservation officer and volunteer with the Irish Whale and Dolphin group. Causes of death can also include weather conditions; diseases (viruses, brain lesions, ear or sinus parasites); underwater seismic activity (seaquakes); magnetic field anomalies; or unfamiliar underwater topography, according to Pat Vaughan, district conservation officer with the National Parks and Wildlife Service.
Sean Hillen 