I’m delighted to say that I will be appearing on RTE 1 TV’s very popular walking series Tracks and Trails this coming Friday night, 5th April 2024 at 7.30pm.
I will be guiding Crime journalist, Nicola Tallant who follows the cliff top trail starting out from Dunmore East. She meets with local legend Elaine Power of East Pier and then comes along the path where I meet her at Portally and we walk towards Rathmoylan Cove.
“Out on the cliffs with the coastline spread out before her, Nicola walks with local author Andrew Doherty who shares with her the maritime traditions and old seas legends of this part of Waterford.”
I had prepared a piece on the importance of local placenames and the origins behind these. I concentrated as much as possible on the fishing traditions, how local fishermen used the placenames as coastal day markers that allowed them to divide up the sea in terms of fishing grounds/locations, as useful and important as any field boundary ashore.
We spoke of shipwrecks, and some interesting events such as the origins of Swede Patch, or the importance of Failskirt Rock. I also covered the rescue of the Naomh Deaglán by the Dunmore East Lifeboat crew.
For all that I said was covered, here’s what was broadcast on the night. I made a mistake with the incident mentioned, calling the ship Chamber of Commerce, it was the Queen of Commerce. Apologies in advance
The topic of smuggling and the coastguard came up naturally as Nicola was interested in the subject from her day job. I covered some historical incidences, much of it based on a guest blog by my cousin James.
Nicola also encountered Deena’s swimming buddies from Dunmore East and the surrounding areas – the Mermaids.
Hopefully, it comes across well, it’s an area and a history we should be proud of.
On St Patrick’s Day 1880 the Waterford-owned sailing vessel Geraldine lay in New York. Under British registry, the ship was supposed to fly its national flag, a requirement of any ship in a foreign port.
However as it was St Patrick’s Day, the crew in an expression of national pride, hoisted the Green Ensign from her masthead, a flag that made obvious her Irish origin, but against the law. It fluttered, proudly 160 feet above the dock. The captain and crew departed. Only a watchman remained.
I was delighted to recently present to the Éigse Sliabh Rua on the topic of 19th Century lives along the local South Kilkenny riverbank. One of the themes I touched on was women’s work. Women played a vital role in the local fishery and seafaring communities traditionally, and it was a theme that my grandmother regularly mentioned as I grew up in Cheekpoint.
The reference to women’s work at the Éigse talk was prompted by a piece of folklore captured by the late Sean Malone in his article on local fishing in Jim Walsh’s fine book Sliabh Rua – A history of its people and places. In his section Fishing and Fisheries of Slieverue (pp253-256) he mentions that although they could sell their catch in Waterford or New Ross “Local tradition tells that Mrs Mary Ann Shalloe (nee Lannon) was known to have walked with a fish catch on her back from Great Island, took the ferry to Ballinlaw and then off to Carrick and returned by foot having sold her produce”
Traditional role of women in fishing homes
I made the point on the night that my grandmother told of similar stories, accompanying her mother to Waterford with a salmon in a bag on her back. Although the buyers did come to the village by horse and cart in the era, there were times that this was missed and because money was tight they would take to the road, hoping for a better price with a fresh fish. I never heard of a journey to Carrick, but if fish were scarce upriver, it could make financial sense to walk, what I would estimate was a 60 mile round trip and according to Google maps would take 14 hrs to walk.
Nanny on the right with her parents in the early 1950s. Image courtesy of Brian Moran.
My grandmother (nanny) was Maura Moran, born in 1919, the youngest of 7 and the only girl. She often told the story of how her mother, Catherine, had once sold a fish on the Dunmore Road, around the present Powerscourt housing estate. Herself and nanny had walked almost 5 miles at that stage, and Catherine was delighted as she got a good price and saved her the walk to the city. However when she got home her husband Michael was furious, fearful that the regular buyer would find out. The next time Catherine went to town with a fish the buyer cautioned her, and told her if she ever sold one of his fish on the road, he would blacken the Moran family name to all the buyers in Waterford.
I later realised that it was sometimes the case that fishermen would get a loan at the start of a fishing season to buy the salmon license or occasionally to replace nets, ropes, corks etc. Families were obligated to sell to the specific merchant until the debt was repaid. A percentage of each sale was recouped to repay the advance. This may have been the case in this situation, but Nanny wasn’t sure. Either way, I know from our own time, that no family ever stuck to selling 100% of their catch to the one buyer.
Nanny said that Catherine was a net maker and net mender at home, and she was regularly at the fire at night working. They also had a twine-making machine that hung over the fireplace. She called it a “nooseline maker” (I have no idea how it was spelled but it made string, some of which was used to make longlines). Catherine’s mother was Mary Lynch and I recently discovered that her own parents may have come to Cheekpoint to work the rope walk in the village from the Carrick on Suir area. If so Catherine didn’t lick it off the stones so to speak.
Catherine and nanny also kept the home fires burning, the lads fed and she often recalled Catherine at the fireside all through the night turning the lads clothes so that they would have something dry to wear for the next tides.
Many years back the late Water Whitty told me he remembered his mother and other women in the High Street, Cheekpoint with lines of calico clothing hanging out to dry. The calico had been cut and stitched and then tarred with a linseed oil mix so as to water proof it, as a form of oilskin for the fishermen.
Cockle Women
Elsewhere, the women of Passage and beyond picked the cockles. Collectively known today as the Cockle Women, in an effort to support their families, these women picked cockles from the west banks of Passage to Tramore from Monday to Thursday, working to the times of the tides, then boiled them, shelled them and bagged them on a Thursday before transporting them by ass and cart or on foot to Waterford city for selling on a Friday. Many of the women were widowed and this was their only source of income, many others were supporting their families as their husbands were at sea and would not get paid off until their trips were over.
An important recognition for us here in Waterford in 2019
Herring Lassies
Another group were known as the Herring Lassies (elsewhere Lasses). Women (initially Scottish) who followed the herring boats to cut and preserve the fish for transport and sale. A hard job in all weathers, these women followed the fleet and set to work onshore in areas like Passage East and Dunmore East where their skill and dexterity was prized. Many local women participated too. I remember the fishing sheds at Dunmore in my youth filled with women, working to process the fish.
Photograph taken at the Fish House in Passage in 1936. Molly Murphy, on the left, and Nellie Connors nee Robinson on the right. Molly, daughter of cockle woman Ellie Murphy was herself a cockle woman. Nellie was daughter of cockle woman Ellen Robinson (Nana). Both women were in their early 20s here and lived side by side in the Brookside, Passage East throughout their lives and were lifelong friends. The women worked with great skill and speed using long sharp wooden handled knives. They wore long rubber aprons and rubber boots as it was wet work, particularly hard in the colder weather. The fish scales can be seen glistening on their aprons from gutting the herrings before they were salted and smoked as kippers. Passage had a vibrant Fish House and produced Kippers, Red herring, bloaters and cured salted herring for export to England, Europe and sold throughout Ireland. Information via Breda Murphy with details taken from The Fish House by Arthur E. Neiland
Leisure
It wasn’t all work thankfully. There are records of women participating in the regattas locally. In some cases these were female only in other cases it was a pairing, male and female. One such account which I published was the Cheekpoint regatta of 1909 which describes a third option.
Mary Fleming, Mary Sherlock and another unidentified lady from Great Island with a medal they won in 1913 for rowing in a local regatta. Photo courtesy of Mary’s grandson Liam Fleming,
Ladies’ Pair Oared Punt Race (one gentleman allowed to either row or steer) Prize value £3.
1st, Invicta – The Misses Fleming, Great Island and Heffernan (Cox)
2nd, Lily – Mrs Hennebry, Ballinlaw (Stroke) Miss Hennebry, do, (Bow) P. Hennebry (Cox)
3rd, Eily – Mr T.W.Brewer, Waterford (Stroke) Miss McCarthy, do (Bow) AN Other (Cox)
Johnny Moran with Sheila Doyle rowing off Ryan’s Shore – the 1950s.
In relatively more recent times, in yachting circles, Daphne French, a famous yachtswoman, lived at Dunmore East in the 1950s and 60s. A topic that David Carroll may guest blog on in the future.
Although women did go to sea, think for example of the pirate queen Grace O’Malley, according to legend she went to sea at eleven years old, forging a career in seafaring and piracy where she was considered a fierce leader.
Seafaring
As times moved on, women’s role on the high seas may have diminished but it was common enough for sea captains’ wives to accompany them on their travels, and on more than one occasion a sinking ship in the harbour here witnessed the captain’s family being rescued.
Somewhere in my files, I have the details of at least one captain’s wife who helped to avert disaster. From memory, they had endured a rough Atlantic crossing, the Captain had been on deck for many days, and entering Waterford harbour for refuge he passed the bar above Creaden and made his way for Duncannon. There he seems to have misjudged the lights, but his wife who was at his side, correctly identified the course and countermanded his orders. The crew obviously paused, looking to their Captain for guidance, who wisely yielded to his wife’s advice. They later safely anchored at Passage and awaited more favourable conditions. (I will add the specific details when I retrieve the newspaper clipping)
A sad death at Passage East – Evening News (Waterford) – Saturday 10 August 1901, page 3
Then there was the legendary Kate Tyrrell of Arklow who went to sea as a child with her father and took on many of the admin tasks associated with the running of a vessel. But Kate wasn’t only a bookkeeper, she also had the sea in her blood and she rose through the ranks to become a ship’s captain in 1886.
Of course, I can’t not mention Rosa Udvardy, who nursed her ailing husband aboard the Honved off Cheekpoint in the 1930s. After he died, he was laid to rest in Faithlegg and now a palm tree marks his grave.
Rosa supported by the crew and the villagers of Cheekpoint at Faithlegg Graveyard in 1932
Women and families also travelled aboard ships in my younger days. Well I remember the beautiful young Dutch girl aboard her father’s coaster at anchor at Cheekpoint in the 1980s and how I stared at her mesmerised as we sold a small salmon to the cook after he called us alongside.
Lighthouse Female Assistant
Oh and although the wives and daughters of lighthouse keepers often did the work to maintain the burning lights that kept the sea lanes safe in the past, I wasn’t aware until Pete Gouldings latest blog that on the 15th April 1866, twenty-one woman took their rightful place in the pantheon of lightkeepers, all in the new role of Female Assistant with the Ballast Board.
Recent times
Much has changed in the attitude towards women, and opportunities that were in my childhood seen as the preserve of men, are now as likely to be carried out by women. Of course even then things were changing. My late sister Eileen was as happy drifting for salmon as any of us. Julie Ann Doherty and Marcella Duffin fished with their dads as hard as any of us. Josie Whitty of Nuke fished for years as did many of her daughters.
My generation had women like Grace O’Sullivan who went to sea with Greenpeace. Grace was aboard the Rainbow Warrior when the French sunk the vessel in an effort to stop the awareness raising of the country’s nuclear testing in the Pacifics. Frances Glody of Dunmore also broke new ground, working with the Harbour Board to assist with piloting communication at Dunmore East. In 1981, Frances became the first female all-weather lifeboat crew member at Dunmore East Lifeboat Station, taking over from her retiring father. Numerous women now volunteer with the RNLI in Ireland including at Dunmore.
Now women can assume any position they aspire to at sea and in our Navy too. Even our local Harbour Master at Dunmore East, is now a lady, the very capable and no-nonsense Deirdre Lane. There’s even a list of the top 100 women in shipping. Although it’s a very unequal world, in an Irish context, it’s a far cry from the era of my grandmother, and the struggle to survive.
For generations of Cheekpoint fishermen, the White Stone was a foul mark to be wary of, a river-based location that was notorious for dragging nets to the bottom and causing costly damage.
Recently I stumbled upon the back story to the foul, the cause of so much anxiety and upset to us drift netters of the past. It arose from a dispute following the introduction of scotch weirs and the difficulties posed to traditional navigation, especially in this instance to craft using the Campile Pill. But needless to say there were different opinions and numerous twists and turns before the White stone foul emerged!
Placenames on the river
I’m certain that my regular readers will be well aware of the relevance of place names and the important role each play in preserving the history and heritage of a locality. In a fishing community river or coastal place names can be just as valuable but with an added significant role in fishing terms too.
Place names on the river at Cheekpoint denoted the commencement or end of drifts, marked hindrances to navigation or fishing, and useful landmarks for the location of nets, eel pots, etc. They also marked fouls, spots notorious to fishermen, a location to be avoided, skirted around or just to show more caution. One of the most infamous marks for the Cheekpoint men was the White Stone. This blog looks at the origins of this foul mark, arising from some research I had conducted previously into the navigation of the Campile Pill.
Salmon Driftnetting at Cheekpoint
When fishing salmon driftnets on the flood tide at Cheekpoint we principally concentrated our efforts along the Shelburne Bank, to the Campile Pill, and along up the “bank wall” – the embankment that held in the reclaimed marsh land at Kilmannock in Co Wexford. The drift terminated at Great Island Power Station.
As you proceeded up the bank wall, there was a mark in the wall, made by a piece of flat faced white rock which gave us the name White Stone. This marked a notorious foul and as we approached the drift nets were hauled aboard, which pulled the boat away from the shore, and crews had their own preferred distance of net to retrieve. (Later in the tide you might tighten up the foot rope, and take a chance on passing over) When a crew was satisfied, they would wait patiently for the onrushing tide, to drag the punt upriver, and once safely passed, the crew would resume the drift by setting the nets back into the shore. Depending on the time of tide, some crews would set the entirety of the nets out at this point, others waiting until they got up to the “pailing” – a concrete fence post, before setting the remainder of the driftnets along the mud, or the wall – depending on how high the river had risen.
A recent video highlighting the location
Salmon Fishery hearing 1864
Now the origins of the foul were reputed to be an old weir, but only recently did I actually get more details of this, arising from evidence gathered in New Ross in 1864. The hearing was part of a fishery commission established to examine fish weirs located countrywide – many of which had been established in the early 1800s as Scotch Weirs or had been adapted from the traditional Head Weirs. I’ve written numerous accounts of the Weir Wars that resulted.
Some of the placenames featured in my first book, Before the Tide Went Out. Note the White Stone at Great Island
At New Ross, on March 10th, 1864 the Commission sat to gather evidence into the Kilmannock Weir with the three-person special commissioners in charge – Fredrick Eden, Captain W Houston RN, and W O’Conner Morris.
From the report, it seems the only matter under examination was the impediment that the weir might cause to navigation, specifically traffic between the Pill and the River Barrow. We learn that Mr. Knox of Kilmannock is the owner and the weir is fished by Richard Hewitson. These men were represented by Mr. Ryland, instructed by Mr. Boyd, and called several witnesses to highlight that the weir posed no issues at all. Opposing this evidence was Mr. E Carr – representing the Nore, Barrow, and Suir Navigation Co.
The entrance to the Pill is just below the lighthouse on the Bank Wall…we called this the Corner of the Pill
I won’t go into the opposing views that were reported, these continued for several days, though it is interesting to note that Fredrick Eden was less than enamored with the information provided stating that “…The evidence on both sides is biased and is to be taken with considerable caution.”
Legalities of the Kilmannock Weir
He summed up the legalities quite definitively, however – Basically the weir at Kilmannock was granted legal status under the fishery act of 1842 – this was based on a lease dated 1669. However other documents now presented had caused concern as they pointed to a different weir – in a different location, and the weir at use in 1864 was actually repositioned after the embankment was constructed, (The embankment is not shown in the first OSI map of the area {1829-1842} but is in the subsequent edition from 1914) or perhaps before in anticipation of its construction. Therefore the weir was not strictly legal, as the older legal documents were for a weir, which was at that point either part of the embankment or covered in soil on the reclaimed marshland. The decision made was that the weir should be removed.
Mahons Weir. Cheekpoint, Photo credit: William Doherty
Salmon Fishery hearing 1867
The weir verdict must have been appealed however as in 1867 it was again before the Salmon Fishery Commission in New Ross. On this occasion appealing a decision to remove or alter the Kilmannock Weir was Maurice Wilson Knox of Kilmannock. Several witnesses were called who operated lighters on the Pill to clarify that the weir was no impediment to navigation.
An extract from Sayers chart of the harbour in 1787, no embankment and I’d imagine the weir was close to the first line on the right, where the river meets the shoreline at low water. I’m afraid no weir is shown in the location on any map or chart I have, not even in the OSI historic series. The only weir in the vicinity is a flood weir shown close to the present jetty and Kents Point.
The first witness was Matthew Power – a boatman on the Pill, working lighters for 45 years. Power described his trade, and that they carried limestones from above Waterford and reached the Cheekpoint area (I’d imagine he means here Snow Hill or Drumdowney Point) on the ebb tide where they anchored. On the next flood tide they crossed to Cheekpoint and (depending on the tides and weather I guess) sometimes waited on the next tide before crossing to the Pill. They went up the Pill on the flood tide. No detail is given of how long the journey was, but I would imagine it could be two tides – as they would be under too much pressure to make it through the New Bridge.
Power later clarified that was a tenant of Knox but that the only difficulty posed by the weir was if they were heading to the Ross River (Barrow) and even that was not a major issue. They generally headed towards Waterford and they used a single-lug sail when the wind was right. The weir he claimed was no impediment on this tack.
John Carroll of Horsewood (spelled Hore’s Wood in the article) was another witness who had worked the Campile River for 40 years. When heading to New Ross, he steered a course well outside the weir, keeping a line for Kents Weir on the Great Island. He stated it was useful on a foggy night as a landmark as there is no other light (suggesting there was a light on the weir perhaps). He remembered boats going up inside the weir in the days before the Embankment was built but not since. The lawyer acting on behalf of the Cotmen Mr Carr, is less than taken with their evidence however and although it is not part of the article it is obvious that Carr knows very well the issues caused by the weir for lighters depending on poles and oars to get into or out of the Pill when trying to keep to the shore heading for New Ross.
A lighter in operation in New Ross – courtesy of Myles Courtney
Another witness is a Coastguard based at Arthurstown Daniel Jenkins. Jenkins gave evidence about the tides and how the weir impacts these. A fisherman Richard Power had no issue with the weir either – the ground is too steep for trawling and no great advantage there to a drift net either apparently (Cheekpoint fishermen of my generation would certainly disagree – and in the 1870s there were 90 driftnet licences in the harbour area!). Another boatman Michael Doyle also gave evidence.
The Commission made no decision on the day – asking for a survey of the site by the Coastguard officer, to be completed in the company of one of Mr Knox’s men, and once submitted a decision would be forthcoming!
The White Stone
Outstanding Questions
I can’t find any detail as to how the White Stone in the wall originated. It seems to have been there from the outset of the building of the embankment. I’m also not clear as to the exact date for the removal of the weir, and I can not be sure if this was a redesigned head weir that had the wing extended to the shoreline, or some other specific design like some of the scotch weirs in the Kings Channel for example.
Conclusion
Whatever part of the weir that was left behind when ir was removed, proved to be a considerable obstacle up to my years of salmon driftnetting. Although we have not set a driftnet at the spot since it was banned in 2006, I daresay any of those left who remember the foul would still show it some respect if were allowed back fishing tomorrow.
As regulars will know I am deeply interested in the workings of the Lighter vessels and the lightermen, and this evidence has given me a rare glimpse into the activities of these men. The details of the journey from Grannagh to Campile although brief, give a glimpse into the lives of these men who worked in harmony with the tides in order to move their freight cargos. Patience was a virtue, they had to have a deep knowledge of the river and its tides, but they also required a lot of luck for the job to go well. I’m ever hopeful of finding other snippets of their lives as my research continues.
I’m grateful to Tommy Sullivan for letting me discuss the White Stone with him recently to clarify some points. Its been so long ago I like to check in with others to be sure I am not imagining stuff. All errors and omissions are my own needless to say.
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Living beside the meeting of the three sister rivers, and having fished it for over 15 years, I’ve been lucky to see quite a variety of fish over that time. By far the largest and most incredible was a Minke whale, which beached but which my brother Robert, Pat Moran, and I managed to refloat in 1993. But one fish has eluded my sight, another large fish, and a contemporary of the dinosaur; the Royal Sturgeon.
Royal is an appendage associated with the Sturgeon which dates to the reign of Edward II. An act decreed that “…the King shall have the wreck of the sea throughout the realm, whales and great sturgeon.”[1] As Ireland was part of the realm, the rules applied here too. Essentially if you caught a fish you were expected to hand it over to the crown. In fact one of Waterford’s Royal charters granted by Charles I “…granted to the mayor, sheriffs, and citizens of Waterford…the fishing of Salmon and other fish of every kind, (Whales and
Sturgeons excepted) [2]
The fish itself is an amazing creature. It can live to a great age, a huge size, and is so old; it swam in the seas in the times of the dinosaurs. It’s a bottom feeder and tends to swim in the seas. But like salmon, these anadromous fish, migrate to freshwater to spawn and this has brought them into contact with fishermen.
But not by me, and I can never recall hearing of one being caught in the Cheekpoint area. However, on a recent trip to the local dispensary, I fell to mention this to Dick Mason. Dick who has lived here almost 30 years and fished all his life remembered his father catching one in a driftnet in the 1950s in Passage East. The fish was taken away by the fishmonger Michael O’Neill, but Dick recalled that for all the hype about royal fish, the payment later received was poor enough.
A Royal Sturgeon was landed at Dunmore East 13 May 1952 by MFV Tulip
l-r Frank McDonald (skipper), Tommy McGrath (owner) Johnny Rooney, John Dando Whitty & Davy Muck Murphy
The fish was displayed for two days in the Dunmore East fisheries shop High St Waterford
before being sent as a gift to Eamon de Valera, then president of Ireland.
Photo via Michael Farrell, Barony of Gaultier Historical Society. Supplied by John Burke
A trawl of the newspaper archives was most revealing about the fish, and in brief, there are accounts of them being caught from Baginbun to St Mullins, Dunmore East to Carrick On Suir. The largest I have found thus far was caught by snap net fishermen near Mount Congreve and was recorded as 9ft 3” and weighing 2¼ cwt. This fish was sold to Mr Crawford, fishmonger of Lombard St Waterford and it was said that the roe(fish eggs, or caviar as Sturgeon roe is more popularly known) in the fish was such that it would have filled the Suir with Sturgeon [3] Crawford comes up frequently as a purchaser.
A frequent sentiment expressed in the papers is that the cot men (on both the Suir and Barrow)who fish the snap net are often “terrorised” by the creature, apparently damage to their nets was common and there were fears expressed of their boats being upturned. It appears it’s the power of the fish, rather than any malcontent that is the issue. Given the cot size of 14ft with little by way of freeboard[4], such concern is perhaps unsurprising.
The appendage of Royal fish seems to be oft repeated in the newspapers, and many but not all, seem to find their way to London. Some appear to be sold locally and others end
up in Dublin. “A very fine Sturgeon was taken in the river on Wednesday and was on view at Mr. Crawford’s next day. The greater part of it has, according to ancient usage and custom, been sent to the Lord Lieutenant”[5]
Some purchasers were more entrepreneurial than others of course. Three fishermen near Fiddown Bridge spent two hours wrestling with a sturgeon on a fine May morning in their cots. The specimen was eventually tired out and dragged ashore where it was killed. A “speculator” snapped it up for a pound, but headed straight for the Tipperary racecourse and “…exhibited the curiosity at 2d per head…” The report states the fish was nine feet long and weighed 100 pounds. We don’t get any information on how much the speculator realised, however.[6]
Carrick on Suir is the scene of the most drawn-out encounter in the summer of 1848 which involved 12-14 cots, the majority of the town as onlookers, and “…an immense sturgeon…” which was later said to be 7½ feet long and weighing 169lbs. From the article, it would appear the cot men went out with the specific intention of catching the fish, as they were “…armed with spears and boat hooks…” The onlookers on shore assisted by watching the Sturgeons progress and when it traveled under the arch of the old bridge they quickly alerted the cot men who formed a line to prevent it from moving back down. A man named Healy managed to pierce the side of the fish with a spear, but it recoiled so heavily that the spear shattered off the side of the cot, and Healy was thrown from the boat. The river became crimson with blood as the fish swam away, but was prevented from escaping downriver by the line of cots.
Meanwhile, on shore, the spectators were shouting encouragement, directions, and advice. The fish turned away again and was driven towards shallow water by “…Mr. Freemans Brewery…” where another cot man George Coghlan managed to harpoon the fish with a boat hook. The Carrick fishermen later exhibited the fish to the public in the town and afterward in Clonmel from which they realised £4 and later sold it to Mr. Pim of Clonmel for £2 10s.[7] Although a horrible end for the sturgeon, for the local fishermen in famine era Carrick it must have been a windfall.
There does not appear to be any regularity of capture, from the papers at least. The fish appear to be occasional visitors or perhaps occasional catches. A report from 1852 on the harbour is interesting in relation to this. “On Thursday last a splendid Sturgeon, measuring eight feet in length, and other proportions corresponding…is the first of the kind which has been taken in this district for the past 14 years…”[8] The capture was in a weir in the lower harbour.
Despite all my searching I cannot find any reference to a fish being caught at Cheekpoint. But then again I should not be surprised. My father never told me of any! In recent
years attempts have been made to preserve and encourage Sturgeon back into European waters. I’m not sure that even if successful we would ever see Sturgeon of such a scale as reported in those papers of the nineteenth century, but I for one would dearly love to see them make a return.
Post-publication I received this fascinating piece from Tom Baldwin, a snippet from his family collection of catch from 1962 off Dunmore East.
I’d like to thank Dick Mason, Denis O’Meara, Michael Farrell and Maurice Power for assistance with this piece.
[1] Went.A.E.J. The Status of the Sturgeon, Acipenser Sturio L. in Irish Waters now and
in Former Days. The Irish
Naturalists Journal. Vol 9. No. 7 July 1948.
Pp 172-174
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