I was born and raised in the traditional fishing community of Cheekpoint, Co Waterford on the banks of the three sister river network. I fished commercially before going to college and training as a community worker.
My blog is my hobby,
Easter Sunday in 1953 fell on April 5th. The weather was very unkind, and the Munster Express reported that the few visitors in the area were compelled to seek the pleasures of the fireside. The newspaper reported that the recent rainfall had proved to be a blessing for local farmers as the ground had been parched. Disappointment was expressed that a local-bred horse called Free Lancer, supported by many local punters, had a very unsatisfactory outing in the Irish Grand National on Easter Monday. This was offset, somewhat, by the news that local jockey Jimmy Power had won at Manchester Racecourse on Saturday, riding Mosten Lane at 9/2 odds. Closer to home, a successful and well-attended dance was held on Easter Sunday in the Fisherman’s Hall, Dunmore East with music provided by Frankie King and his band. An Easter Dance held in the Haven Hotel was also reported as being enjoyable.
As the fishermen of Dunmore East put back to sea and others in the village returned to work on Tuesday, April 7th, after the Easter break, little could they expect the dramatic event that would later unfold.
At 10.45 pm, Mr. Arthur Westcott-Pitt, Honorary Secretary of Dunmore East RNLI received a wireless message stating that a passenger on board the SS Corrientes, of Glasgow, was seriously ill with a perforated stomach ulcer and asking if the lifeboat would land him.
By 11.10 pm, in a moderate south-westerly breeze, Dunmore East lifeboat RNLBAnnie Blanche Smith (ON 830), had slipped her moorings and was on her way and set a course to intercept the steamer, which was proceeding to Waterford Harbour about twenty miles due South.
The seriously ill passenger was Captain More, a harbour master from Leith in Scotland. The SS Corrientes was on a voyage from Stockton, California to Liverpool, traveling via the Panama Canal. The Waterford Standard newspaper reported that Captain More had been ailing for the last three weeks and within the last few days his condition worsened, and medical advice has been transmitted to the vessel by wireless from ashore.
At midnight, the lifeboat reached the steamer, about seven or eight miles from Dunmore East. The same newspaper went on to report that when the lifeboat came alongside, a member of the crew asked Mr. Westcott-Pitt to come on board and see how tenderly the ill man could be lowered from the vessel. With much difficulty, the sick captain, secured to a stretcher, was lowered to the lifeboat, which returned at full speed to Dunmore East, where an ambulance, doctor, and nurses were waiting to rush him to Waterford City and County Infirmary. Captain More and his wife, who came ashore also on the lifeboat had spent a six-months holiday in New York.
The lifeboat returned to Dunmore East at 01.10 am. Mr. Westcott-Pitt reported that the patient had been transferred to hospital, within 90 minutes of the lifeboat reaching the SS Corrientes. The crew of the Annie Blanche Smith for this service was as follows: Paddy Billy Power, coxswain, Richie Power, second coxswain, Richard Murphy, mechanic, M Whittle, second mechanic, and crew members, J Power, Maurice Power, and A Westcott-Pitt (Hon. Sec.).
The SS Corrientes was a 7,058 GRT, a refrigerated cargo liner that had been built by Short Brothers Ltd, Sunderland and launched on December 21st, 1943, and completed in April 1944 as Empire Cromer. The Empire ships were a series of ships in the service of the British Government. Their names were all prefixed with Empire. They were owned and used during the Second World War by the Ministry of War Transport, which contracted out their management to various shipping lines. In the case of Empire Cromer, it was the Blue Star Line.
In 1946, Empire Cromerwas sold to the Donaldson Line, Glasgow, and renamed Corrientes. This was the second ship of that name to serve with Donaldson Line. This previous vessel was torpedoed and sunk in 1940.
The Donaldson Line was originally founded in 1855 under the name Donaldson Brothers, the company began service from Glasgow to South America using a wooden barque. Over the years, many changes and acquisitions took place and new routes were served as the company developed. In 1966, Donaldson stopped their last passenger service, and in 1967 with the advent of containerisation, the company was liquidated, and the fleet sold.
This lifeboat service on April 7th, 1953 was not the only association that Mr. Westcott-Pitt would have with Captain More and his recovery to full health.
Many people, nowadays, may not know that in the years after World War ΙΙ, Dunmore East had its own small aerodrome in Coxtown, which was developed, owned, and operated by Mr. Westcott-Pitt. The land is now occupied by the Airfield Point and Shanakiel estates. In the early part of World War ΙΙ, Mr. Westcott-Pitt had flown with the Air Transport Auxiliary (ATA), a civilian organisation tasked to deliver new and repaired aeroplanes to the RAF. In 1946, Mr. Westcott-Pitt resumed his private flying activities. He purchased an Auster Autocrat airplane and during the 1950s and 1960s, it was a familiar sight to local people as it flew over the village.
On Saturday, April 18th, 1953 the Dunmore East aerodrome was to play an important part in Captain More’s safe return to the United Kingdom.
An article entitled: ‘Arthur Westcott-Pitt: Waterford’s Aviation Pioneer’, by Patrick J. Cummins, appeared in Decies, No 66, in 2010.
The following news item appeared in the Waterford Standard, issued on April 25th, 1953:
“There was considerable excitement in Dunmore East on Saturday afternoon last when a special ambulance plane arrived from England to take back Scots harbour master, Captain More, who had been lying seriously ill in the Waterford City and County Infirmary since he was taken from the SS Corrientes by the Dunmore lifeboat on April 7th.Still seriously ill, Captain More, accompanied by Dr W O’Keeffe, was taken by ambulance to Dunmore, and I am told, such was the timing, that the air ambulance flew in to land at Mr. Arthur Westcott-Pitt’s airfield at almost the same minute.A doctor and nurse were on board the air ambulance, and in a few minutes Captain More was being winged across the channel, to, I hope, a speedy recovery.”
What became of the SS Corrientes?
In 1954, Corrientes was sold to the Blue Star Line. It was intended that she would be renamed Oakland Star, but instead, she was declared surplus to requirements and in January 1955, Corrientes was sold to Williamson & Co Ltd, Hong Kong, and renamed Inchmay. On 3 April 3rd,1962, Inchmay ran aground at Wakayama, Japan. There were no injuries amongst her 45 crew. In 1966, Inchmay was sold to the National Shipping Corporation of Pakistan, Karachi, and was renamed Kaukhali. She served until 1968 when the vessel was scrapped.
I wish to thank Coxswain Roy Abrahamsson at Dunmore East RNLI for allowing access to the station records and to historian Cian Manning for his help with access to local newspapers of April 1953.
Today marks the 75th anniversary of the loss of a very important vessel in Irish maritime heritage and history, the Muirchú and page regular David Carrol has agreed to share the story of the ship and her final voyage with us.
Having been laid-up since late 1946, the Public Armed Ship Muirchú steamed from Rushbooke Dockyard near Cobh out of Cork Harbour on Wednesday, May 7th 1947, and a short time later she was given a farewell salute of twelve sirens from two naval corvettes. The officers of the corvettes lined the bridges as the Muirchú returned the last salute.
This event was not without a certain sense of irony. The recently formed Naval Service had purchased these two former Flower-class corvettes from the Royal Navy, along with a third corvette. These were named Macha, Maev, and Cliona. The famous and historic Muirchú was now deemed surplus to our naval defence requirements and was put up for sale by the Government. The Hammond Lane Foundry of Dublin bought the vessel for scrap.
Daire Brunicardi in his book ‘‘The Sea Hound: The Story of a Small Irish Ship’, described the condition of the Muirchú on her final voyage:
“She was a sorry sight, her drab grey paintwork streaked with rust, dirt and rubbish around her decks from her long lay-up prior to disposal. She presented a sad contrast to those who remembered her before the war, when her sides were painted smart black, picked out with a thin white line, her black funnel gleaming, all the profusion of her brass work polished like gold.”
The final voyage from Cobh to Dublin was to be another dramatic one just like many of the ones it had encountered in a varied and adventurous career since the vessel had been first launched in 1908. The Muirchú had a crew of ten with Captain WJ Kelly of Dún Laoghaire in command. Also on board were three passengers. Two representatives from the Hammond Lane Foundry made the voyage and the other passenger, making a foreboding total of thirteen persons on board, was Brian Inglis a journalist with the Irish Times, who had been asked by his editor, the legendary RM Smyllie, to record and write about the historic last voyage.
‘SPLENDID NEW FISHERY CRUISER BUILT FOR THE DEPARTMENT’ was the headline from the Irish Independent of Monday, May 18th,1908, and the newspaper went on the describe the impressive launching ceremony, witnessed by a large crowd, on the previous Saturday morning of a twin-screw fishery research and protection cruiser built in the Dublin Dockyard and named Helga ΙΙ. Dublin Dockyard had won the contract to build the new vessel for the Fisheries Branch of the Department of Agriculture and Technical Instruction in open competition with famous Clyde shipbuilders. Helga ΙΙ was 155ft. in length and as the newspaper reported:
“The steamer is modelled on fine lines indicative of speed and sea-worthiness. Her laboratory is fitted up in the most modern style with every requisite for research work. The appointments, fittings, and furniture of the various rooms have been carried out in handsome style.”
The new fishery cruiser replaced an earlier vessel called ‘Helga’. Such was the interest in her design that Canada ordered two ships to be built to the same specifications by Dublin Dockyard. These were HMCS Galiano and HMCS Malaspina.
Helga ΙΙ remained under the control of the Department of Agriculture and Technical Instruction until she was commandeered by the Admiralty in March 1915. She was now described officially as His Majesty’s Yacht Helga, an armed steam yacht. At this time the ‘ΙΙ’ was dropped from her name. She served as an anti-submarine patrol vessel as well as undertaking armed escort duty in the Irish Sea.
In Ireland, Helga is infamously best known for her part played in the 1916 Easter Rising. On Wednesday, April 26th,1916, according to an extract from her log, the ship proceeded up the Liffey and stopped near the Custom House. Twenty-four rounds were directed at Liberty Hall, headquarters of the Irish Citizen Army, which had been abandoned since the beginning of the Rising. It has been reported that her 12-pound artillery guns had to stop firing as the elevation necessary to fire over the railway bridge meant that her shells were endangering the Viceregal Lodge in Phoenix Park.
In April 1918, the Helga was credited with sinking a submarine in the Irish Sea. While no record of the sinking could be confirmed at the time, for the remainder of her career, she carried a star on her funnel as an indicator of this event.
Later in the same year, on October 10th,1918, in the final weeks of the First World War, the City of Dublin Steam Packet Company steamship RMS Leinster was torpedoed near the Kish Bank and sunk by German submarine UB-123. Current research shows that 569 lives were lost, resulting in the greatest ever loss of life in the Irish Sea and the highest ever death toll on an Irish-owned ship. Helga was fuelling in Kingstown (now Dún Laoghaire) at the time. She rescued ninety of the passengers.
Helga was released from the Admiralty in March 1919 and returned to fisheries work. She was later used to transport the British auxiliary troops known as Black and Tans around the coast when many of the roads in Ireland were rendered impassable by Irish forces in the War of Independence.
When the Civil War broke out in 1922, the Helga came under the control of the Irish Army authorities and acted as a supply and landing ship to the Government soldiers as they fought the Anti-Treaty forces in Munster.
Helga was handed over to the Irish Free State in August 1923 and was renamed Muirchú, an Irish name that means ‘Sea Hound’. She became one of the first ships in the newly established Coastal and Marine Service, Ireland’s first Navy. However, between February 29th and March 31st, 1924, all officers of the Coastal and Marine Service were either demobilised or transferred to the army. The first Irish Navy had lasted only ten months and twenty-seven days. Muirchú was returned to the Department of Agriculture and Fisheries to carry out her duties of fishery protection, a task that she had originally been commissioned for and had carried out.
Sadly, from 1924 to 1938, there was little interest in maritime affairs in Ireland. The sole official representative of the Irish Free State, on the seas, was the unarmed Muirchú, a situation that was not helping its task of detaining illegal fishing vessels. Permission was sought and granted from the Admiralty in 1936 to carry a gun on the ship.
In 1938 Great Britain handed back the Treaty Ports and control of Irish waters, to the Irish Free State. When the Second World War was declared, Ireland established the Marine and Coastwatching Service and on December 12th,1939 Muirchú was taken over by this Service from the Department of Agriculture and Fisheries. The former Royal Navy base at Haulbowline, near Cobh, was reactivated to act as a headquarters for this Service. By 1941 the Marine Service consisted of ten craft. Six of these were motor torpedo boats (MTBs) purchased from Great Britain and another four assorted vessels, one of which was Muirchú. Daire Brunicardi described her new role:
“Muirchú, for the second time in her life, was painted the drab grey of a naval ship. The conversion work was carried out in the same yard as before, but whereas the previous time she was becoming a very small unit in the mightiest navy the world had ever seen, now she was to be flagship of what probably the world’s smallest.”
The tasks of the Marine Service during the ‘Emergency’, as World War ΙΙ was called in Ireland, included mine laying in Cork and Waterford Harbours, regulation of merchant shipping, upkeep of navigational aids and fishery protection.
During all these years, the Muirchúwas widely known in the fishing waters off counties Waterford and Wexford as she valiantly attempted to apprehend the many foreign fishing trawlers who fished illegally inside Ireland’s three-mile fishery limit. When an illegal boat was apprehended, a court case to prosecute the skipper and confiscate the catch and gear would take place. Looking back on old local newspapers, one can read several accounts of these proceedings. The Muirchú’s master was obliged to attend. Prosecutions were not always successful as some newspaper reports recorded- the offending fishing skipper getting off on some technical issue. It is recalled that when Breton skippers from France were being prosecuted at Waterford District Court, Major Wilfred Lloyd, Harbour Master at Dunmore East had to be engaged to act as interpreter. All the while, with theMuirchú being tied up in Waterford or elsewhere for the court proceedings, the rest of the foreign fishing fleet would fish away with impunity. Rather unfairly, Muirchúbecame a vessel that was often the butt of jokes and unkind comments made by politicians and its main nemesis was the satirical magazine ‘Dublin Opinion’, which constantly lampooned it.
Quidnunc writing in the Irish Times on May 12th, 1947 put the matter into some perspective:
“As a fishery protection vessel between the wars there was some justification for laughing at her, as she had not the speed to be really effective at her rather ignominious task of chasing foreign fishing pirates. But during the war, on her anti-mine patrols, she did a first-class job, at a time when the loss of a single ship’s cargo might have meant the difference between frugality and really want.”
Just a week short of being forty-years old, the early part of the Muirchú’s voyage from Cobh to Dublin was uneventful. It was raining but the sea was calm. The thirteen persons onboard could reflect on the remarkable fact that they were on a vessel, whose lifetime, 1908-1947, coincided with the most important period in Irish history. It had been present at the birth of a new state and was Ireland’s first fishery-patrol and research ship. Many dramatic events occurred during its lifetime and the Muirchú /Helga was there for many of them. It had been involved in two World Wars, a Rebellion, a War of Independence, and a Civil War. To this day, Helga’s shelling of Liberty Hall is mentioned in every account of the 1916 Rising.
The Irish Times eye-witness report by Brian Inglis from May 9th, 1947 continues the story:
“It was not until shortly before dawn that the engineers found difficulty in keeping up steam and Captain Kelly discovered that ship was not answering well to the wheel. Investigation showed the forecastle was flooded. At first this was attributed to a smashed porthole.
When the combined efforts of all the pumps failed to keep the water in check it was obvious that the leak was far more serious. The bunkers were flooded and soon afterwards the forward bulkhead gave way and water poured into the stokehold.
There was no radio on board, and despite the risk, the engineers and firemen stuck to their jobs until we came within hailing distance of some trawlers fishing nearby.
The captain ran up the distress signal and as soon as it was acknowledged gave the order to abandon ship. It was then 9.30am.
By this time a heavy sea was running, and it took us all our strength to swing the lifeboat out on the davits. The Muirchú was wallowing broadside to the swell. The boat was on the weatherside and we had no steam to turn so we had to trust luck.
As we were being lowered the stem falls came away, leaving the lifeboat hanging almost vertically by the bows with eight of clinging to it. The next wave lifted her just long enough for us to cast off, but every time we pushed away from Muirchú a wave would dash back against her hull.
The oars which we tried to fend ourselves off were old and rotten, and one was snapped in two before we scrabbed our way around the stem and round on her lee.
As we pulled away from the Muirchú we realised for the first time how far she had gone, listing heavily to starboard and down by her bows, looking as she might plunge at any moment. For a time, we feared for the safety of the five men left on board, but their dinghy was on the leeward side and they were able to lower themselves into the sea with less difficulty.
Getting on board the trawler, Ellesmere, was unexpectedly easy. They threw us a rope, pulled us alongside and hauled us bodily over the bulwarks. The dinghy crew followed.
There we were uninjured except for a few cuts and bruises, putting away mugs of scalding tea.
The Ellesmere finished her trawl and was just starting back for Milford Haven when she saw our distress flag, so less than an hour after the abandonment she cut loose our lifeboat and dinghy and started for base.
So, we did not see the Muirchú go down. Two hours was that any of the crew gave her, but I would not be certain. Ships have a queer obstinate streak in them.”
The Muirchú had foundered and sank about five kilometers SE from the Saltee Islands off the Wexford coast, a stretch of water that it would have known intimately from her days as a fishing protection and naval vessel. (See chart). The Cork Examiner of May 9th, 1947 reported that a distress call, later canceled, was made to Dunmore East Lifeboat but as Muirchú did not have a radio, this does not sound plausible. What was more important was that everyone had been safely rescued and landed in Milford Haven.
Again, there was certain irony as the Muirchú crew were rescued by the same British trawler that it had arrested off Sheep’s Head, County Cork in 1940. Irish Times Journalist Brian Inglis, who was one of the rescued, writing under the pseudonym of Quidnunc on May 12th,1947, described the Welsh fishermen:
“The crew of the trawler Ellesmere, who picked us up, were a most genial crowd, from their captain, a good-humoured Welshman, inevitably called Jones, to equally inevitable Irishman, Gerald Flaherty, from the Aran Islands. They were much amused at their last haul; looking over at the sinking Muirchú, the Ellesmere’s engineer remarked: “To think of all the times she’s chased us, and now we are picking up her ——- crew.”
The national newspapers on May 9th, 1947 also carried reports that the Wexford schooner Antelope, which was damaged by heavy seas while bound from Waterford to Dublin with 200 tons of wheat, was taken in tow to Rosslare by the Dublin schooner Invermore, confirming the severe weather conditions that prevailed on that fateful day.
The Irish Times of May 9th, 1947 reported the names of all those on the Muirchú on its final voyage:
“There was a pair of fathers and sons among the crew of ten and three passengers on board Muirchú. Captain WJ Kelly in command with his son, James Kelly, chief engineer, both of Dun Laoghaire; and W Roche, bosun, and his son, G Roche, fireman, both of Dublin. The others in the crew were: TA Knott, of Drimnagh, second engineer, HM Taylor, of Ayr, mate; C Plummer, G Lemasney and P Scannell, all able seamen from Cobh; a second fireman, P O’Toole also of Cobh. There were three passengers, Messrs. DJ Flavin, manager of Hammond Lane Metal Company, a subsidiary of Hammond Lane Foundry; J Hodgins and Brian Inglis.”
The wreck of the Muirchú lies in the vicinity of two other Irish vessels that were victims of World War ΙΙ, during late 1940. The SS Ardmore was on passage from Cork to Fishguard in South Wales on November 12th, 1940, but never reached her destination. She had a full cargo of livestock on board, mainly cattle and pigs. A total of twenty-four lives were lost. Her wreck was discovered in 1998 by a group of local divers, off the Great Saltee Island in 183 ft of water. The hull bore evidence of a massive explosion and it is believed that the ship may have hit a magnetic mine. The Irish Lights tender Isolda, while carrying Christmas supplies and relief crews to the Barrels and Coningbeg lightships, was bombed and sunk near the Saltee Islands by a German aircraft on December 19th, 1940, resulting in six deaths.
The following news item appeared in the Irish Press on Friday, January 23rd , 1948:
Result of Inquiry on Muirchú Loss A finding of the Inquiry into loss of the SS Muirchú on May 8 while proceeding from Cork Harbour to Dublin where she was to be broken up, is that a porthole failed to withstand the impact of the sea and as a result the forecastle became flooded and the bulkhead gave way under pressure. The Muirchú was designed for specific purposes with unusually large portholes very close to the waterline. The vessel had undergone repair before sailing from Cork and had a certificate of seaworthiness. The lights and sound signals were functioning satisfactorily, and the life-saving appliance requirements were fully complied with. The Inquiry held by Capt. H Freyne, Nautical Officer of the Department, on the direction of the Minister for Industry and Commerce, did not disclose any ground for further investigation.
Many songs and verses have been written about the Muirchú through the years. Much of it has been somewhat uncomplimentary, but one thing that everyone agrees upon is that it had a stubborn streak and was determined not to end her days in a scrapyard. She decided to go to a watery grave instead. James N Healy was a well-known Cork actor, writer, and theatre producer and he wrote a very long ballad about the Muirchú. The last four lines go as follows:
Footnote: Brian Inglis, having served with the RAF during World War ΙΙ, rejoined the Irish Times and worked as a journalist in the late 1940s. He moved to London in 1953 and became a very famous journalist, prolific writer, and television presenter. He was editor of the Spectator from 1959 to 62. He died in 1993, aged 76 years.
References: ‘The Sea Hound: The Story of a Small Irish Ship’, by Daire Brunicardi, in addition to contemporaneous and other newspaper reports were the main source of information for this article. Included are the following: Irish Independent May 18th, 1908, May 9th, 1947 Irish Times May 9th ,1947, May 12th, 1947, June 27th, 2014 Cork Examiner May 9th, 1947 Irish Press March 18th, 1947, May 9th, 1947, January 23rd, 1948 Evening Echo March 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 1975 – a series of articles entitled: ‘Birth and Growth of Irish Naval Service’, by Denis Reading. Wexford People August 11th, 2020 Other sources: http://www.llangibby.eclipse.co.uk/milfordtrawlers/ https://www.wrecksite.eu/ Report No. 137289 https://coastmonkey.ie/ http://www.irishships.com/helga_11_muirchu.html
Further Reading: ‘The Sea Hound: The Story of a Small Irish Ship’, by Daire Brunicardi, Collins Press, 2001.
Many thanks to Dr Pat McCarthy and Cormac Lowth for their assistance with this article.
The Mayday Mile is a major fundraising initiative of the RNLI. 150 people drown in UK and Irish waters every year. And this summer, thousands of people will get into danger by the water. Ordinary people enjoying days out with family or friends. It happens so easily, and it could happen so easily to one of us or to someone we love. Locally we also have the terrific resource of the rivers and sea, fishermen can be at risk, sailors and other boaters.
The RNLI are determined to be there when they’re needed most. Usually, RNLI lifesavers answer mayday calls and go to rescue others. But, this May, it’s them who are asking for OUR help
So in order to support our local lifeboat station at Dunmore East, a group of us are planning to walk from Cheekpoint via the old coastal tracks and seashore on Sunday 22nd May a distance of 22 KM. The core of the crew is my family and friends including my brother Robert, Damien McLellan and Breda Murphy who along with myself Andrew Doherty will chat as we walk about the rich heritage and maritime lore of our area including stops at Hurthill, Passage Hill, Crooke, Woodstown, Fornaght, Creaden, Killea and finally Dunmore East. My wife Deena will be our driving support.
And building on last year we will also have some RNLI-heritage related stories which will be published on my blog throughout May courtesy of David Carroll, highlighting the importance of our local RNLI station and what it means to the community. So if you would like to donate or sponsor us here’s the link to our page.
I finally received my long-anticipated copy of Pete Goulding’s book on Irish lighthouse fatalities, and I can heartily recommend it to anyone with an interest in lighthouses, maritime heritage, or Irish history in general. When the Light Goes Out, a clever title by the way Pete, is 224 pages of first-class research including maps and images (145 as it happens and many in colour).
Pete is the chap behind the blog page Pete’s Irish Lighthouses which I have followed for several years now. He lives in Dublin and works in a warehouse. He’s a prolific writer including humorous verse, serious verse, a book of essays, a novel, and a biography. He’s also one of these history bloggers who have a passion for League of Ireland soccer just like Cian Manning and David Toms…Maybe that’s where I have gone wrong!
Anyway back to the review. The purpose of When the Light Goes Out is to shine a light – yes a pun but as Pete is the king of them, it is rubbing off on me – on those men, women, and children associated with the long and proud family tradition of lighthouse service in this country. It tells this story through a prism of deaths from 1786 to 1972 in the service of the Irish Lights whether at lighthouses, lightships, pile lights, or light tenders.
If that sounds like a rather gloomy and depressing subject can I just reassure you that it is anything but. Yes there is sadness, anger, rage, and in some cases perplexity at what occurred but it is also a treasure trove of lost lighthouses, a glimpse into a way of life now (regretfully to my mind) extinguished and a wonderful companion to anyone interested in the lighthouses around our coastline. You will also learn about families of the lighthouses, the tasks of those employed, the social history of the lighthouse families who travelled almost like nomads from post to post, often leaving their loved ones in graveyards that would not be seen for years later if at all.
The household names of lighthouses feature such as Hook, Fastnet, Tuskar, Poolbeg, and the Skelligs. But many were new to me as were the stories of fatalities associated with them. And as I said it’s not just the deaths, it’s the story of the light, its historical context, the politics and the drama that sometimes went on, the isolation, loneliness of the service, and just how unfortunate a person can be – the wrong place at the wrong time!
I was surprised to learn that I had no awareness of the Beeves Rock Lighthouse on the River Shannon until now. I was amazed at the history of the Pidgeon House and family on the Great South Wall and wondered how I had never been. I don’t know how I missed the Puffin Lightship disaster at the Daunt Rock in 1896. And of course, there were so many fascinating details on one of my favourite lighthouse constructions – the Pile lights to which we owe Alexander Mitchell such a debt.
Many of the stories stood out in this book and some have been featured on my own blog, for example about theILV Isolda, a recent guest blog by David Carroll. Another that was new to me was a tragic incident aboard the ILV Ierne(1898) which was the tender vessel used in the construction of the Fastnet light. Ierne departed Castletownbere in West Cork on Thursday 11th January 1906 to land a relief crew and supplies to the Bull Rock, a lighthouse on the SW tip of Ireland open to the full fury of the Atlantic Ocean. As the vessel rounded Crow Head the long finger of Dursey Island was coming into view and the seas grew in size. As the crew hurriedly completed their deck duties Captain Kearon spotted a rogue wave tumbling towards the ship, from the bridge. His cry of warning was only out of his mouth when the ship was engulfed in seawater. The Ierne went over on her beam end and everything on deck not secured was lost over the side. As she righted herself the captain pulled himself out of the scuppers, several of the crew were seriously hurt, but one man was lost overboard. As the Ierne came about, Thomas Kearney was seen holding onto an oar struggling to keep his head over water. With their lifeboat stove in, there was little the crew could do but throw life rings and try to get as close as possible to haul their colleague aboard. The elements were against them, however, and in horror, they watched as Kearney slipped beneath the waves.
Now although that may sound sad, and it is, Pete takes four pages in the telling. There’s the service of the Ierne, Thomas’s back story, the inquest, the aftermath, and also a poem written to commemorate the event. Such rich detail and a fine way to remember such sacrifice to such an important way of life. Pete has over 70 such events, each with its own unique back story.
If I had any criticisms of his book, I might have changed the chronological order of telling to include the various events at Hook for example, or Belfast Lough. In the latter, I found that some repetition was needed just to remind me of the context of the lights, and I needed to go back to the earlier stories just to be sure for myself. But that is a small matter and perhaps just an issue for me as a slow, meticulous reader…I love the details, and be sure of my ground. However, his contents page and his index at the end ensure that those searching for a particular lighthouse or a specific event, or a lighthouse family will easily locate them in the text.
As I said at the outset I would highly recommend this book. It’s also a read of small chapters, some only a page or two, it can be picked up and laid down and come back to time after time. It also has a very clear contents section that gives you the name of the deaths and the location of the event. So as a lighthouse fan, you can read up on a tragedy(s) before you set off to visit.
Pete is selling the book “When the Light goes out” through his blog via a Paypal button on the sidebar. One book will cost €18, which includes post and packaging worldwide. (For those ordering on a phone, you may have to scroll to the bottom of the page and click ‘View web version’ in order to see the sidebar.) Pete will distribute to Ireland himself but for orders outside Ireland, he will arrange for these through his publisher. All orders, Ireland or overseas can be made through his blog page. The book will also be available on the Lulu bookstore and on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Ingrams amongst others. But as an author who knows, can I plead with you to consider buying direct from Pete…financially it’s a very big difference to an author after the years of work.
An official mail packet service ran between Milford Haven and Waterford from 1787 to 1848. The service often referred to at the time as the Southern Route, operated in competition with an earlier route between Holyhead and Dublin*. Although the Southern route was shorter, it was never as popular. This blog will concentrate on the ships that worked the service and share what little details I could find on those who crewed these vessels in the 61 years of the service.
Although there was packet communication between Waterford and the UK as early as 1600 this service was unofficial and sailings were irregular. The only ship that I am aware of from this era was the Countess of Tyrone – a name we know from the writings of Arthur Young and specifically “A Tour in Ireland 1776-1779”
The official service commenced on April 5th 1787 from Cheekpoint with one vessel. But by June that year, the Post Office responded to the popularity of the route by asking the Packet Agent, Thomas Owen, to get sufficient vessels to allow for six days of sailing.[i]
One of the first vessels on the route was known as the Hopewell and in November 1787, this ship came to grief although the mail and passengers were saved. [ii] (This is the only loss associated with the service that I am aware of, which is an excellent record on what was considered by many a dangerous run). The Hopewell was apparently lost off the Wexford coast under the command of Captain Morris. No details of the saving of the crew, passengers, and mail are given[iii]. If I had to guess, I would imagine she ran ashore. It would appear two new ships were secured in the summer of 1787, the Carteret and Walsingham. Others who were on service included the Ponsonby, Clifden, and Tyrone. In February 1795 another ship joined (perhaps another had ceased) called the Chesterfield.[iv]
The details of these vessels are scarce (I could find nothing on any of them in Lloyds List for example) but the description we have is of fast-paced cutters of 80-90 tons with a capacity for horse & carriage, packages, and parcels, accommodation, and even stewards to look after the guests. The ships had to be fast, not just to fulfill the task assigned to them, but during the Napoleonic wars, they had the added excitement of trying to avoid French privateers who took every opportunity to disrupt trade.
Sailing ships had one major disadvantage – they depended on favorable wind and tide and the location at Cheekpoint, ten miles upriver caused many complaints. In 1813 the service was moved to Passage East in preparation for another move to Dunmore East where a new harbour would open to facilitate the Packets in 1818. But even at that point, a new complaint was emerging – steam-powered vessels were developing and their value to the service was apparent to all.
In 1822 it was argued in a newspaper column that Dunmore required steam to give the service the same advantage then being offered on the Dublin route. The positives of steam were laid out and a recommendation included the design of the ships – Stoutly built, 200 tons, two engines to provide 80HP and accommodation for at least 40 passengers.[v] It would appear that the last sailing cutters employed on the route sailed on April 15th 1824 at which point four paddle steamers came into service.[vi]
In May 1824 one vessel the Harlequin under captain Grey completed her journey to Dunmore in 8 hrs and made the return in 7.5hrs, the ships are described as very comfortable and commodious and the only noted difference to their rivals on the Dublin route was that the horses and carriages are accommodated below decks on the Dunmore run[vii] Private email correspondence with Roger Antell informed me that the Steam packets Meteor and Royal Sovereign operated from Dunmore around this time too – these ships had worked on the Dublin route but were replaced with faster and more powerful ships.
Of course, it’s an ill wind that blows no good! In November 1824 Mr. Pim and Mrs. Mowlds of Dublin fled to Waterford and getting horses in town arrived in Dunmore to elope abroad. Unfortunately for the lovebirds, the packet was delayed, and whilst staying at Mr. Cherry’s Hotel a certain Mr. Mowlds arrived and “…An unpleasant and rather violent rencontre took place between the parties…” The family Mowlds later returned to Dublin, Mr. Pim to court, and apparently, the packet limped into Dunmore not long after oblivious of its vital role in a love triangle.[viii]
A furious Waterford Mail article of August 1827 excoriated the Post Office due to the inability of the Meteor to sail during the week which caused a delay in information for the previous edition. Although Meteor sailed, she had to put back into Milford where the newly arrived paddle steamer Vixen had to turn around to return to Waterford. A new ship was expected on the route, but the Mail asks when, and very reasonably, why, a relief boat was not secured.[ix]
To get an insight into the pressures these packet captains were under the following article is instructive. On the 8th April 1828, the steam packet Crocodile went to the assistance of the sailing vessel Fairfield close to the Saltee Islands en route from St Johns NB to Liverpool fully laden with timber. The sailing ship had lost her rudder in a storm and was unmanageable. The Crocodile took the vessel in tow and from 3 pm to 6 pm managed to reach a position about 7 miles off the Hook. Because Captain Nuttall of the Crocodile needed to reach Dunmore, he then signaled the Fairfield that he was cutting the tow rope but would send assistance, and she dropped anchor. At Dunmore Captain Hunt, the pilot master, sent the pilot boat Scott to assist. However, the anchor chains parted on the Fairfield and she was reported a total wreck on the Wexford shore.[x] A later edition of the paper confirmed that all aboard were saved. (The Fairfield had left port on the 1st March, and lost her rudder on the 26th)
In November 1832 there was an announcement of the death, at Dunmore East, of Captain Charles Nuttall, commander of the Milford to Waterford packet Crocodile. It also mentions that Nuttall was captain of the first vessel to land mail at Cheekpoint in 1787 and had served the station loyally in the intervening years.[xi]
In 1835 the four steam packets were listed in a newspaper article. Three vessels were of 80HP highlighting that despite the speed in advancement, the Dunmore route was not keeping pace. These were the Sybil, Crocodile, and the Vixen. A fourth vessel the Aladdin was 100HP. The least powerful vessel on the Dublin route at the time was 140HP.[xii]
The article went on to give some valuable insights into the route – The Dunmore route was constantly being attacked as slow and of poor value. This impacted mail delivery times, passenger comfort, and the major point with all travel to this day – speed. However, the article pointed out that the distance from Milford to Dunmore was 81 nautical miles. Dublin to Liverpool was 125. Although the Dunmore ships were vastly underpowered in comparison, the speed of the journey despite the negative coverage was favorable. For example in looking at the month of April; the fastest journey was April 21 – 8 hrs 30mins, whilst the slowest was April 1st at 12hrs 25 mins. The fastest journey that month from Liverpool to Kingstown was 10hrs 39mins.[xiii]
Earlier in 1833, the Waterford Chronicle had boasted that the local Waterford Steamship Company which sailed from Bristol to Waterford was wiping the eye of the Royal service. A new steamship the Waterwitch had taken 24hrs to reach Waterford in a storm but had still beaten the Crocodile by 10 hrs notwithstanding the greater distance she had covered. The article also mentions an older sister ship Norah Creina a firm favourite with passengers. It concludes with a very fair question
In September 1836 Edward Rose, commander of the Aladdin was moved to write a rebuttal to the Waterford Chronicle after an article appeared criticising his vessel. At issue was a recent sailing, which Rose pointed out was very misleading both in the time taken for the trip but also in describing the sea conditions as “smooth as oil” when in fact there was a “strong, treble reefed topsail breeze from the NE which occasioned the sort of short choppy seas most unfavourable to [paddle] steamers” [xv]
A comparison between the two routes is very informative. For example in 1835 on the Milford to Dunmore route – 2,199 passengers were accommodated but over 11,000 traveled from Holyhead to Dublin, 21 carriages arrived at Dunmore – 563 to Dublin, 8 horses to Dunmore against 214 and 46 dogs to Dunmore against 270 to Dublin.[xvi]
There were major changes to the service in early 1837 when the management was taken over by the Admiralty and the base was moved from Dunmore East to the Adelphi Wharf in Waterford City. The earliest mention of this was an article in June, although the article expresses strong reservations about the move – suggesting that it may not meet the concerns of the Post Office[xvii] According to Roger Antell the first vessel to use the Adelphi Wharf was the steamer Pigmy and another vessel Jasper is mentioned. An interesting point that I found (but can’t be sure of) stated that when the Admiralty took over, they did not employ new ships but simply renamed the older vessels that were on the route. Whatever the situation the Post Office continued to favour the Dublin route and when rail finally made its way to Holyhead the speed and efficiency of that route were obvious to all. On the 2nd August 1848, the Milford to Waterford Packet ceased, bringing to a close what can only be described as a controversial route from outset.[xviii]
At the time it ceased there were five vessels employed. Pigmy commanded by Lieut. Darby RN, Advice under Lieut. Petch RN, Jasper under Mr Edward Rose RN, Adder under Mr John Hammond Acting Master RN, Prospero under Acting Master Rundle RN. [xix]
Some years back the late Brian Goggins, who occasionally corresponded with me on blog topics, wrote to me that he was of the opinion that the major reason the route failed was that the public was not prepared to travel on the poor roads to Milford once they got to Bristol. He believed that the public at that time felt it was so much easier to take a steamship from Bristol to Waterford, despite the greater distance by sea. It’s a reasonable theory because within less than ten years of the route ceasing the Great Western Railway Company would have built a rail line to Milford and reinstated the Waterford connection at Adelphi Wharf, something that would continue up to the 1960s.
*Although I mention Holyhead to Dublin, there was much chopping and changing on this route too including Liverpool to Dublin and various locations around Dublin including Howth and Dun Laoghaire.
I drew on contemporary newspaper reports, my second book, and also the work of Roger Antell for this piece. Antell. R. 2011. The Mails Between South Wales and Southern Ireland. Welsh Philatelic Press.
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