Beyond the Breakwater

Catherine Foley is a proud Waterford woman who grew up initially in the city before moving to An Rinn in the Waterford Gaeltacht. Deena and I had known of her before, through her contributions to RTE Radio 1’s Sunday Miscellany.  However it was her cousin, and a regular contact of tides’n’tales on facebook, Mary Chaytor nee Rogers who alerted me to her recently published book; Beyond the Breakwater, Memories of home.  The memoir takes us from her early days in Lower Newtown, a move in 1970 to the Gaeltacht, her career in journalism and as a carer for her parents in later years.  But as this is a maritime blog, Catherine decided to share some recollections of regular visits with her maternal grandparents in Passage East; Joe and Mary Ellen Walsh. I think you will enjoy them.

My maternal grandmother, Mary Ellen Walsh, was a tailoress who lived in Passage East in County Waterford, all her life. She wore her grey hair tied back in a bun at the base of her head. She had deep-set dark brown eyes – a link to her Corsican ancestry. She wore a navy wrap around apron that had a pocket at the front in which she carried her beads, a few stray hairpins, sometimes the stub of a pencil or a spool of thread and maybe a little ironed handkerchief.

Catherine as Little Red Riding Hood with her mother Ena Foley nee Walsh

I remember her sitting at her Singer sewing machine, her upper body curved over the machine as she swayed back and forth in time with the motion of the wheel and the foot pedal underneath, all aligned and working with clockwork-like syncopation and co-ordination. I remember her starting the machine when she pressed down on the pedal underneath and then gave the wheel at her side a bit of a push. With nicely timed and precise movements, she’d crank up the beast and like a great steamboat it would all start up, and the whole machine would trundle into action, the needle ratcheting along. Then my grandmother’s highly controlled and beautifully intense dance would begin in earnest.

As children we stayed with my grandparents Joe Walsh and Mary Ellen in Post Office Square in Passage East throughout the 1960s. The noise of the Singer was like the sound of a great farmyard contraption clattering along. It had a rhythmic beat, a battering ram of a tune that carried a message of great condemning conviction and certitude, both satisfying and mesmerising. It was like hearing little hammer blows falling, cascading, tumbling down through the needle onto the fabric.

In the midst of this mechanical mayhem, she’d sometimes give the wheel at her side an extra little encouraging lash of her hand to speed up the sewing and that’s when she’d travel into the stratosphere of sewing wizardry. With her head bent low and her hands over the dress, she’d be flying along, concentrating fiercely, united as one with the powerful engine, her needle jabbing in and out of the material.  At such moments, she was completely focussed, having to keep the seam in its correct place, the pressure up and the momentum going, pacing it, weaving it, all the parts moving in one great headlong rush. She was the seamstresses’ version of Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

Mary Ellen Walsh and Catherine as an infant

The Singer, coming to a temporary stop for a moment, used to sound exhausted as it wound down, the frantic energy seeming to dissipate while my gran readjusted the fabric and fixed it under the needle. Then I’d see her thread the needle, holding her breath like a tight-rope walker, her glasses half-way down her nose as she tried to hold the cotton between her thumb and forefinger and direct it through the eye.  It seemed to me as if she was facing down the beast, and a dual of two wits, a fight to the finish, would ensue until she’d threaded the needle, and once again bent the automaton to her will…

Her father was Joe Martel, a Corsican who ran away to sea when he was sixteen. He left either a year before or a year after a full census was conducted in Adjaccio in 1873 and although my sister and I went to Corsica years later and combed through the census returns in the heat of the National Archives we found no trace of him or his family. His father was Bastien Martel, a stone mason.

Joe Martel secured a job as a sailor on board a ship and sailed out of Adjaccio and thus he became a merchant seaman. In time, he became a bosun. On one of his voyages, he met a Captain William Ryan, from Passage East, and the two became friends. They must have been in their twenties when they came home to Passage on leave, Captain Ryan showing him his home place, where small fishing boats were tied up along the quays in the village, at a narrow stretch in the River Suir before the estuary widens to flow out to open sea. It was here that Joe Martell met Willie’s sister, Mary Ryan.

We have a photograph of Joe Martel with his drooping moustache and a slouched soft cloth cap, very much in keeping with the manner of his countrymen back in his native Corsica. His eyes are deep-set under the brim of his cap. The two were married in Crooke Church in 1883 – the same place where my parents married in 1958.

Catherine as a toddler with her grandfather Joe Walsh 

Joe Martel and Mary, his wife, had four daughters – RoseAnn, Maggie, Angela and Mary Ellen Martel, who was the youngest and my grandmother. Ena, her daughter, and my mother, remembered Joe Martel even though she was only a little girl when he died. They used to walk along the cockle walk together, chatting away, hand in hand. He had black hair, dark brown eyes and sallow skin. He used to make model ships, which he moored against detailed miniature piers, all set against the painted background of the river estuary with detailed scapes of Ballyhack, Arthurstown, Duncannon and Cheekpoint all easy to pick out. These elaborate seascapes were housed in great display cases made of glass. He used Mary Ryan’s grey hair for the wisps of smoke coming out of the funnel of the ships. He was the first seaman to bring a gramophone home to Passage East from one of his voyages.

I have photographs of the times when we posed in the lee of the derelict Geneva barracks at a summer fair. I remember the swinging cots, the sandwiches and the cups of strong tea from wobbly tables in the field. Different years, different photographs. In another I am a child with my mother kneeling in the grass beside me, smiling. I am dressed as little red riding hood – in a kind of djellaba down to my sandaled feet. I have a basket on my arm but my tear-stained face shows what an unwilling participant in the fancy dress of the early 1960s I was. I can remember being afraid because I thought I was going to meet the wolf.  But tear-stained or not, I came away with first prize. Some of those memories are still vivid. Here’s an extract from Passage,  a poem, that is part of my recently published memoir, Beyond the Breakwater.

Their words are in my head today,
they echo back and forth
lulling me into a half-remembered time
when I was four and younger
in my pram
outside on the footpath
looking up at Canacanoe Hill.
The pump in front of Connors’ house.
The shop. Ice-cream,
Did they get a salmon?
No, they’re very scarce.
Crabs, gulls, stones, herrings.
The smoke house, shells, rain.
Get up to bed,
The Men’s Walk, the dock, evening,
The Blind Quay,
The slip, the steps, the gunwale.
We all grew up but their words are in my head today.
They echo back and forth.

I’d like to thanks Catherine for providing this tweaked extract from Beyond the Breakwater, Memories of Home. Its published by Mercier Press and is available as they say in all good bookshops.  (I got my own in the Book Centre, Waterford). There were many stand out pieces in the book for me like her wandering up Alphonsus Road on her communion morning knocking on doors, or the deeply poignant Ardkeen Visit.  And I was delighted to readt her perspective on the visit of Jackie Kennedy to Woodstown which featured in another recent guest blog by Joe Falvey.  If you need any more convincing about this wonderful book Manchán Magan gave it a “rave” review in the Irish Times. 


Community Notice: Free Concert at Faithlegg House Hotel. Booking essential…

Finally from me just to say that I’m delighted to get contributions for the guest blog, especially from a female perspective.  This is blog post 241 and only the third guest blog since we started in late 2016 from a woman.  So if any others out there would like to contribute, I would love to hear from you.  The bref is 1200 word count, on a theme of  the three sister rivers and harbour maritime history by email to russianside@gmail.com.  Next month will feature a well known Dunmore East personality.

I publish a blog about Waterford Harbours maritime heritage each Friday.  
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Barrow bridge toll

This week sees a significant local anniversary, for on the 21st July 1906 the first official train crossed the Barrow railway bridge.  The infrastructure was the last significant piece of railway network constructed nationally and it linked the west of Ireland with Rosslare and via ferry to the UK.
The railway bridge proposal had a troubled start.  Several plans were considered and rejected, including a railway link to Passage East and either a ferry or bridge crossing to Wexford.  When plans were suggested for crossing the Barrow River, linking Kilkenny and Wexford, New Ross Harbour Commissioners were also wary.  Any infringement to navigation would impact the port.  This was allayed by providing an opening span, allowing ships access and egress.  Other engineering problems remained however such as the distance between the Kilkenny bank and the Wexford side of the Barrow river, and the depth that had to be dug to, in order to meet solid foundation for many of the bridges supporting spans.
The bridge, showing the opening span, under construction.
Taken from the Kilkenny side, looking upriver. April 1905
Construction commenced in January 1902 from a depot on the Wexford side at Wellington Bridge.  Finally on Saturday 21st July 1906 a special event train departed Dublin, calling to Carlow and Waterford to mark the official opening officiated by the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland at the end of the line; Rosslare. When the line finally closed in Sept 2010, many wondered what would become of it.  Recently we have heard murmurings of a Greenway link, building on the stunning success of the Waterford Greenway.  But did you know an alternative use was proposed before? Ireland’s first toll road bridge!

Community Notice Board

Walk leader is Ray McGrath, and assisted by Michael Farrell, John Burke and yours truly
Plans were first mooted in late 1976(1) when CIE complained that the line was no longer economically viable and their board had made a decision to close the line and were looking for an option for its use.  In early December(2) “…Mr. J. A. O’Connor, C.I.E. area manager for the south-east…stated that the service withdrawal had resulted from scheduled…trains…being uneconomic…” He was quoted as saying “…Proposals have been received from private interests for the conversion of the Barrow viaduct to a road bridge and the use of the permanent way as approach roads to the bridge.” the paper continued “… It is further understood that the viaduct may become Ireland’s first toll road…”

Later in December(3) we learn that “A new company, Barrow Bridge Ltd., of which the principal partner is Roadstone Ltd., has applied to both Co. Councils for planning permission to convert the viaduct into a road toll bridge….The proposal to close the line has caused many protests in the southeast area….A committee representing trade unions catering for workers in the Thurles sugar factory, which is fighting the closure, said it was quite apparent that the board of C.I.E. had decided to withdraw passenger and freight services…”
A Munster Express article (4) seems positively disposed towards the project in the new year when we read that the project “has now taken on a new and hopeful turn…A company has been incorporated, with Waterford control, consisting of Mr. Max Fleming, Chairman; his son Mr. David Fleming, Managing-Director, with Mr. M. M. Halley, solicitor, as Law Adviser, and they have taken a lease from Coras Iompair Eireann (Irish Transport Company). Messrs. McCarthy, Engineering Consultants, Dublin, have already applied to Kilkenny and Wexford Co. Councils for planning permission”  I’m not sure what happened to Roadstone over Christmas, or were the three gentlemen mentioned connected to it?

The paper went on to outline a proposal to build a two lane roadway on either side of the bridge, with a traffic light controlled single lane crossing of the bridge. Interestingly no mention was made of Drumdowney tunnel. A toll will be charged to pay for the upkeep, and the system will be controlled, we are assured, by close circuit TV.  (As an aside, and in the context of present plans for turning it into a walk and cycle path, the article mentions that the bridge is acknowledged to have a existing to right to walk, no mention is made of tolling the walkers!)
JJ Walsh, the Munsters owner and editor hadn’t grasped the public mood however.  Taking a contrary view to the newspaper, unions, farmers, businesses, locals and public representatives swung into action in the new year.  January seems to have been a hot month for meetings, lobbying and general awareness raising. The issue made all the local and national papers and the last mention of the process I could find was from the Munster Express of February 4th(5). In this we learn that the Minister for Transport and Power, Mr Tom Fitzpatrick, is flatly denying that any decision has been taken by the Board of CIE, and that any decision would only be considered if or when the respective County Councils made a decision on planning.  I’m guessing that was when the proposal ran out of road! To be frank, given the engineering issues with altering the bridge and negotiating Drumdowney tunnel, its hard to take the proposal serious on any level.
The bridge is still one of the finest pieces of engineering in the south east, and if you have never seen it, here’s a wonderful piece of footage of the opening span in action via Joel 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMPaYGEAHQI  
If you like the video you might give him a comment for feedback

I’ve a weak spot for the Barrow Bridge. I’ve previously written about:
Constructing the Barrow Bridge
The grand opening of the line
Closing the line in 2010
A century of Barrow Bridge incidents

(1) The earliest mention of the toll bridge I can find was October when a gentleman named Alan French had a letter published in the Irish Times drawing attention to it.  Intriguingly Mr French claimed that the reason CIE were pushing a road bridge, was that they were obliged to ensure SW Wexford had a viable transport link maintained. As they wanted clear of the line, they had run with a “ridiculous” alternative.  The closure would be a “scandal” Irish Times. October 2nd 1976. Page 13
(2) Irish Independent Friday, December 03, 1976; Page: 9
(3) Irish Press, Sat Dec 18th 1976 page 3
(4) Munster Express Jan 07 1977 page 2
(5) Munster Express Feb 4th 1977 page 2

I publish a blog about Waterford Harbours maritime heritage each Friday.  
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Paddle Steamer excursion

The Waterford Steamship Navigation Company river service commenced in 1837.  It ran daily return trips between New Ross-Waterford and Duncannon-Waterford, Monday to Saturday. In the Summer season Sunday trips were also offered. During the week the ships departed the Wexford towns around 8am arriving into Waterford in under two hours.  The return leg was in late afternoon.  In the time between, the ships were available for hire or were given over to other uses.

The ships preferred on the routes were iron built, shallow draught paddle steamers.  And they were versatile craft.  They were regularly used to tow sailing ships into port, or to attend rescues or act as  salvage vessels to damaged ships. But they also provided tours, special event trips and outings to harbour events such as regattas, horse racing in Duncannon or religious and political gatherings.

One event of July of 1864(1) gives a unique insight into their employment as a river tour vessel.

“The annual summer excursion of the pupils attending the Sunday-school Institute, took place on Wednesday last.  At ten o’clock the scholars, with their respective teachers, formed in their classes at the Protestant Hall (a distinctive, red bricked, building still to be seen in Catherine St. opposite the court house), and proceeded towards the magnificent little river steamer the Tintern, which, through the accustomed generosity of William Malcomson Esq., was kindly placed at the disposal of the committee of the Sunday School Institute for this joyous occasion.

A contemporary scene of Ballyhack with a paddle steamer heading down the harbour
accessed from https://roaringwaterjournal.com/2017/11/26/george-victor-du-noyer-at-the-crawford-gallery
/ballyhack-and-arthurstown-du-noyer/

Soon the Tintern received its large and living freight, and the deck presented a scene most animating, there being about 400 children formed into little knots, including their respective teachers who, no doubt, felt much pleasure and delight at the sound of their youthful voices and merry laughter, as they spoke of the pleasure they anticipated enjoying during the day.


At half-past eleven o’clock the Tintern steamed away from the Adelphi Wharf, where she had been lying, looking gaily, with her flags flying, and an awning suspended over the after deck, a circumstance which gave those going on board the option of being entirely protected from the sun, or of enjoying its invigorating rays, and the stronger breeze which a person, generally speaking, placed on the forecastle deck, always enjoys.

A close up excerpt of the George Victor Du Noyer painting, showing clearly a paddle steamer off Ballyhack in the harbour

Her course was directed to New Ross, and indeed, the scenery, along the banks of the river was most attractive and pleasing. The well cultivated gardens, fields, and plantations exhibited ample proof of fertility our land; and showed the natural advantages which this country posses as an agricultural country, which, however, are too frequently disregarded. —causes monetary and political tending to -operate against the increase and fuller development of those resources which a bountiful Providence has placed at our disposal for our own profit and good.

The Ida, a later and larger ship of the company, but gives a sense of their popularity 

Coming to the Bridge at New Ross the steamer was turned about, and her course was then directed towards Duncannon Fort, past which she steamed most gaily and gallantly, all on board having an opportunity of seeing the outlines of that Fort, which is said to have been much shaken and loosened in its foundations, owing to the practice of the heavy guns used by the Waterford and Tipperary Artillery Militia regiments, during the past few years.


Having arrived at Broom Hill our little vessel was again turned about, this time with her head bearing towards the Quay of Waterford, where she arrived about half-past three o’clock, and proceeded up a good portion of the river before she turned into her berth at Adelphi landing stage.


It is indeed most satisfactory to be able to say that the utmost order prevailed during the day amongst the children, who amused themselves in various ways. The pleasure derived by the ‘ excursionists’ was greatly enhanced by the presence of the members of the Young Men’s Christian Association,
who, under the direction of Mr. Zinkant, performed a beautiful selection of music during the day.


About one o’clock refreshments which were prepared for the children were partaken of, and the members of the band were provided with a luncheon which was laid out for them in the captain’s cabin. Indeed, a more pleasing scene could scarcely be witnessed than that presented on Wednesday last when so many of the rising generation, professing the true faith of Protestantism, assembled to enjoy a day’s recreation, beholding the beauties of nature in association with those whose exertions have been ever to instruct them in heavenly things, and point them from “nature to nature’s God”

I’d imagine, the boat and her crew had barely time to have a cup of tea before the passengers for the 4pm sailing to Duncannon trooped aboard.  PS Tintern was built in the Neptune Ironworks by John Horn and was launched on Aug 21st 1861. She would serve the good people of Duncannon and the SW Wexford area from 1861 to circa 1875 when she was replaced by the PS Vandeleur.  The Tintern was used thereafter as a relief ship by the company and was contracted out for other duties after this time.  She was eventually broken up and her hull used as a landing stage in 1897.(2)

(1) Nenagh Guardian July 20th 1864 page 1
(2) Malcolm McRonald. The Irish Boats Vol II. 2006. Tempus. Stroud, Gloucestershire.

I publish a blog about Waterford Harbours maritime heritage each Friday.  
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Harbour Hobblers

Last Saturday I had the good fortune to
call over to Waterford Airport to see the materials that were uncovered by Noel
McDonagh at Creaden Head, Co Waterford. 
While there we got into a conversation with Michael Farrell of the
Barony of Gaultier Historical Society and Brendan Dunne and his son Ian about
the area around Creaden and one curious place name that jumped out at me was
the Hobblers Rock.  The feature is on the
upper side of the headland, in a sheltered spot, and was a departure point for
the hobblers and their boats in a vital element of our maritime trade, ship
pilotage and docking.
The term Hobbler was first introduced to me
as a boy, listening to the stories of my father and the older men of
Cheekpoint. Their definition has been challenged by others, enhanced or
diminished, depending on who you listen to.  Indeed many look at you, if you mention the word, like you had another head.  Thinking more likely about Hobbits!
Hobbler attending the MV Julia at Waterford circa 1950
Shortall via the Andy Kelly collection
According to my father a hobbler was defined as one of a team of
men who rowed down the harbour in long punts and vied with each other to have
the right to guide a ship into Waterford or New Ross. He admired them as hard working, tough and
resilient men who could row miles off the Hook to engage a craft, and if need be, tow a
ship past Cheekpoint up through the Kings Channel and into the city. (Or via the Barrow to New Ross) Crews were
made up from all the villages and the towns and the competition between crews was fierce. 
The method of securing the right to take charge of a ship has
variations in its telling too. Some said
that it was a straightforward race; first hobbler team to get a rope aboard the
incoming vessel secured the prize. However I have also heard that bidding wars took place with ships
masters, when conditions allowed. Competing hobbler teams would be forced into a bidding war, resulting in bad feeling, scuffles or much worse. My father had one story of a man named Whistler who lost almost all his teeth in a row with another hobbler. As my father had it, thereafter you would hear the Whistler coming because of the wind blowing through his damaged teeth! 
Other accounts say that it was just a
couple of men in a boat, which met incoming boats and won the right to tie them
up. Others talk of winning the right to
discharge or load ships. Whilst others
again talk of them almost in terms of a modern era tug boat, used to move ships
from moorings to berths and vice versa.  Another
curious aspect of the hobbler story is that in Cheekpoint one theory of the
site known locally as “the Lookout” was also linked to them.  I’ve speculated before on a link to this site
and other lookout points as a signaling system employed within the port.
Hobblers mooring a WWI era troop ship. Artist Charles Pears.
First published in the Illustrated London News Jan 1916

With the formation of the Waterford Harbour
Board[1] in
1816 piloting became more organised and pilot boats were employed to put recognised
pilots aboard ships.  This must certainly
have impacted the role of the hobbler, but not completely (I’ve seen accounts of hobblers piloting as late as 1894). I also read
that on the south coast of England “Hovellers” [2]
were a description of the craft or men that sailed as far as Lands End at times
in search of incoming ships in need of a pilot. Indeed the term also existed in Cork and Dublin (I haven’t seen it recorded elsewhere as yet). David Carroll has only recently sent me a book[3]
highlighting their courage and skill, including one poignant story of a
hobblers crew demise.

The Hobbler memorial at Dun Laoighre.  Photo via Derek Carroll and passed along by page regular David Carroll

I’m now convinced that the reason so many
definitions or accounts of hobblers exist, is because the stories I have heard
come from at least two hundred years of maritime trade. Their roles altered as times changed, perhaps initially with the
formation of the Harbour Board and the formalisation of pilotage. Increases in sailing ships with auxiliary engines, and steam boats must
have been the next phase. 

For me, Hobblers Rock in Creaden is a
very important maritime place name connection with the port of Waterford and New Ross’
past.  A point from which I’m sure men
had a lookout post, and where a wary eye was kept on the horizon, and hardened
fishermen waited impatiently for a sail to be sighted and the cry to go up of “sail ahoy”.  Mighty men, deserving
acknowledgement.
I finally got to the monument in Oct 2018
Phioto courtesy of Michael Farrell 

[2] A Dictionary of the Worlds Watercraft.  The Mariners Museum. 2000.  Chatham Publishing
[3] A Maritime History of Ringsend. 
2000.  Sandymount Community
Services
I publish a blog about Waterford Harbours maritime heritage each Friday.  
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