Saturday September 19th,
As I was sitting on the train from Cork at what I thought was our next to last stop, out of the corner of my eye I saw a spider web of rope and wood. I quickly turned my head over and saw my lovely ship. I grabbed my bag and jumped off the train. As I walked to the ship I recognized all my shipmates on deck and smiled at the dirty looks I got as I cut in front of the huge line to board the ship.
I was heartily welcomed back and asked many questions many times over about my trip abroad. I had a big hearty dinner followed by big hearty seconds. As I had been on vacation so long I helped out with the dishes and covered the watch for a few hours during the evening. I got myself unpacked and met the new members of our crew and was saddened by the faces that were no longer around.
I went to sleep with the comforting, rumbling hum of the generator very happy to be home.
Sunday September 20th
I was awoken for tours today at 9am. I was given the option of not working as I had just gotten back, but in the spirit of guilt for getting so much time off when others got none I volunteered to work. This decision also aided in not spending any more money. We had breakfast and got dressed in our red shirts as these are the colors of the local “football” team which is having a grudge match with the neighboring county.
The day went by fairly quickly and we drew a good crowd of over a couple thousand. Mostly families came aboard and we had to spend a lot of time telling the children to not cross the barriers we had put up as well as their parents. There were many friendly people, as I have found all across Ireland, especially one old sailor with a blurred and faded swallow and anchor tattoo on his forearm who told me the history of every landmark within sight.
Another Gentleman also told me that the man who had surveyed and mapped Cobh harbor for the British Admiralty was none other than William Bligh. I felt more than a little strange on this ship in a place he undoubtedly spent quite a bit of time. I don’t think he would have thought the existence of our ship very amusing.
While on a break from doing tours I was doing a little work on the rig when I saw I man cross over our lines to the foredeck. I got up and told him the lines were there to keep him from doing exactly what he did. The man replied in a Russian accent with labored English that he wished to take a picture at the front. We have no rails at the bow, thusly why the bow is off limits to visitors. I replied that he still had to go back, which was not the answer he was looking for. Grumbling he went back to where he ought to be and I went back to work.
A full minute later the man walked up to me while I was working and said “give me your point I want to take a picture”. Working with my marlin spike at the time I assumed that was what he meant so I unclipped it and offered it to him. A glare and a reiteration of “your point, your point!” was his response. I gathered he meant my knife, which I do my best to keep razor sharp and therefore denied his request with images of his accidentally bloodying a stray child.
Well that was it for him, he asked me irritably several more times, which I all denied. He inquired whether I was American, to which I thought “oh god here it comes” and replied “yes”. With evident joy at what pain his words would cause me he said “Everyone in Ireland is nice, but you are mean, MEAN!”. I chuckled under my breath and turned back to my work. This job never ceases to amuse.
After tours were over we got everything sea stowed and ready to go, for we plan on leaving at 5am tomorrow. We had dinner, which I knowingly ate way too much of and I went off to a nearby hotel to use their internet. I had to buy a beer to be allowed its use (woe to me!) and wrote emails and luckily caught my folks on skype. I can never help but be amazed at the world we live in as I sat in a hotel in Ireland drinking a Guiness and video chatting with my parents in California. So cool.
I chatted with a pair of old gentlemen outside the ship on my way back and I am now officially excited for Galway. I have spoken with a dozen people about Galway and even the guy who grew up there said it is a beautiful place; several claimed it was the best city in Ireland.
I went to bed early as it will be my watch that wakes up to get the ship under way. I hear rumors of a storm coming in tomorrow night, I hope they are wrong.
I was born in Cobh in 1937; I now live in the USA on Staten Island where I run a small press --The Stone Street Press (making handmade books). I am also a writer and am at the moment writing a long narrative poem about growing up in Cobh.
ReplyDeleteAs part of my research I have a Google Alert on "Cobh" which is how I came by your blog --specifically the mention that it was the famous Captain Wm. Bligh who had mapped Cork Harbor for the British Admiralty.
Fascinating! Of course I wanted to see his reference, but could find none online.
But I did get a sort of indirect corroboration with the information that it was the same Bligh who mapped Dublin Harbor, and also had been commissioned with the job of building the North Bull Wall. It's function was apparently to stop a sandbar from forming there.
I am interested to hear from any co-evals about Cobh history, especially from the Civil War time 1922-3. Indeed, any correspondance with Cobh history buffs would be very welcome.
My father David McCormick ran the Cobh Labour Exchange --the Dole-- from 1929 until his death in 1954. The writer Sigerson Clifford, from Caherciveen, worked for my Dad for a number of years and made a dollshouse for my sister Rosita. I attended "The Nash" in the 40's and went on to the College. Brothers Vincent, Eugenius, Edwin, Austen, and Messrs Cooney, Con Hamilton, and Moss O'Brien were some of my teachers. I left there in 1954 and went to work in the laboratory in Irish Steel. I played rugby for the Cobh Pirates, and soccer for the Cobh Rambler minors --loved both games. I later left for London in 1957 and only visited Ireland thereafter. My mother Ann O'Neill McCormick, originally from Mitchelstown, lived in Cobh from 1929 until her death in 1994. She is one of the founders of the Cobh Museum.
The long narrative poem that I am writing is about her and her piano and her music; it is also about her relationship with her cousin Liam Lynch who died in that sad bitter Civil War in 1923. Both he and Michael Collins knew they had to make a truce; instead they ended up "shooting each other" (tantamount).
They both were great figures of the times; they gave all in the struggle; they both went "the extra mile"; at the same time they both "went too far".
I often think what great figures they might have been in Ireland had they survived the unCivil War.
(I would love to hear from anyone knowledgable on these matters, and/or on Cobh of the time. See what a chance mention of William Bligh can bring!)
Thanks.