Thursday, 20 July 2017

Creaking Like an Old Boat

Creaking Like an Old Boat (c)
By
Michael Casey

I was thinking what to talk about today when I stopped to stretch, only all my bones creaked, I could hear them. But it least it reminded me about the times I've been on a boat, as I just wrote that down I remembered I'd been on a boat in China too, it wasn't a slow one either. So that's what I'll talk to you about today. Boats are strange things full of hopes and fears, you can go as far back as Jesus and before to when people feared for their lives as they earned their daily bread.

My grandfather in Cromane Kerry Ireland was a fisherman farmer, he joined the Merchant Navy too and could have possibly ended up in Shanghai before his own grandson, me, did. While he sailed the seven seas the Black and Tans were loose in Kerry and my mother could have been killed in the womb, or so the story goes. In Kerry you have a bit of land and you farm the sea too. On the wall beside me is a drawing of fishermen in a traditional small 2 man fishing boat that had oars to power it, my uncle had one of those too.

When the Irish return to visit family they use the night ferry, and that is an experience in itself. I’ve been a few times, at Christmas 1973 I went with my dad, the seas were rough and the bar was opened early. You really can hear the ferry creak and moan, just like my arthritis. The boat rocks up and down, and people puke and everybody is merry. You might get a cabin, which feels like a cupboard with shelving for six, and you stay there for the 6 or 8 hours I cannot remember which.

In the morning you queue for breakfast of some sort, then you disembark, the journey is half over you have to catch a train from Heuston Station, that’s Heuston Dublin down to Kerry. Kerry is the furthest point from Dublin, the back leg of the dog of Ireland.

Once landed in Kerry my aunt, mum’s sister would be there to wrap us up in her love, and yes as I speak to you I really have tears welling up because she really was the greatest aunty ever. She could do anything and did, she could was our cook and guide and driver for 2 weeks, and maybe 1000 miles up and Kerry’s boreens, back in 1973 the roads had not been improved. Delia was a great driver and knew everywhere, Sat Nav had not even been thought of back then. I think they still don’t have postcodes anyway. You start at the back of beyond and take a left from there to beyond still, and they up a steep road blocked by hedges you would find one of the Casey Clan. I have 40 first cousins by the way.

In Dingle there is a bar cum book store and there I bought a copy of the Prize about the Oil industry, everybody should read it, its a great read too. When I was there with just my sister we went on a creaking boat to see Fungy the dolphin, its worth a trip too, though if Fungy is still there you will have to ask the mermaids.

We had a postcard with a cartoon of Kerry on,that was our map for our 1000miles in 2 weeks. Now that Delia is gone the title of best aunty ever, or best friend ever has been past on to my sister, but don’t tell her I said it, she never reads or even knows about my writing, so let it be our little secret. Ok. Or do you want to swim with Fungy?

I was going to talk more about boats but my nostalgia for Kerry got in the way, if anybody is going they can tie me to the roof rack. There are a couple of 5 star hotels in Kerry, one German MP used to holiday in Kerry and you may bump into his security detail in the car park, but that was maybe 25 years ago. Going back is on my bucket list, when I’m nearer to kicking that bucket, I think my daughters should see Kerry,they have been to China maybe 5 times now,so it should be Kerry’s turn.

Boats creek and groan and are tossed about by the waves, as are people by their lives. Its when you arrive at the safe harbour that you feel relieved and head for the bar or the warm embrace of the best aunty ever. I have been very fortunate to have such an aunty and such a sister, but never tell her that, so whatever Life does to you, no matter how much your bones creak and moan always remember to come on back Home.  

MY BUCKET LIST

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