The Mizen Peninsula

West Cork in Photographs – Your Favourites, Part 2

Courtmacsherry Bay

A winter walk in Courtmacsherry Bay

Part 2 of your (and our!) favourite West Cork photographs of 2016. If you’re not here already, as they say in West Cork – Where else would you want to be?

Banners up

The new Ballydehob Tourist Information Centre

Castle in the mist

Kilcoe Castle in the mist

Colours of West Cork

Toormore – the colours of West Cork

The Fingers

The Fingers, Gurranes, near Castletownshend

Summer in Goleen

Summer in Goleen

Three Castles

Three Castle Head

Black Castle

Black Castle, south of Lowertown

Mizen North Colours

North Side of the Mizen

Sun sets over Long Island

The sun goes down over Long Island

And an extra – one of my own favourites from this year. No drama – just a quiet sunlit meadow, an old stone barn and a colourful house. My West Cork.

Eugene and Margaret'sIn case you missed it, here’s a link to Part 1 of this two part exploration of West Cork in photographs.

 

West Cork in Photographs – Your Favourites, Part 1

Navigating Mizen Head

A fishing boat navigates the rocks of Mizen Head

Our Roaringwater Journal Facebook Page features lots of our photographs of West Cork – two or three every week – and we know by the views and the ‘likes’ the ones that capture your imagination. It’s become a tradition here with us at the end of the year to go through them all and show you the top choices. Think of it as our Christmas present to you, our wonderful readers – nothing to read, just images of our gorgeous part of the world to drool over. Of course, we have our own favourites too, even if they didn’t get as many likes as others did, so we sneaked a few of those in here two. This is the first of two posts – the next one in a few days.

Sheeps Head November Day

Sheep’s Head

Chough by the Gate

Chough in the rain

Fastnet in the sunset

Fastnet Lighthouse at sunset

2 0f the 12

Two of the arches of Ballydehob’s famous Twelve Arch Bridge

Roaringwater Bay from Sailors' Hill

Roaringwater Bay from Sailor’s Hill above Schull

Gougane Oratory 2

Gougane Barra in the autumn

To the Mass Rock, Sheeps Head

Walking to the Mass Rock, Sheep’s Head

Kealkill 2

The archaeological complex at Kealkill – a five stone circle, a standing stone pair and a radial cairn

Rossbrin Dawn

Rossbrin Cove dawn

The next batch (Part 2) is now up. Enjoy!

Your Favourite Posts of 2016

Horses at Caherdaniel

It’s that time of the year again! The wonders of technology enable us to know which of our posts have received the most views: we can see how many people clicked on each article although we don’t specifically know who you are! This is great for us, because we can get an idea of what you – our readers – like to see and this helps us when considering what to write in the future. Not that we necessarily always respond to the statistics, because sometimes we just think there are things that you need to know about, regardless of their potential popularity or otherwise!

Not in the ‘top ten’ – but through the year Finola has expanded – and passed on to you – her knowledge of the wildflowers that make the hedgerows and verges of West Cork so colourful (bee in fuschia, left), while Robert has used the Olympic year of 2016 to examine the history of some sporting events in Ireland (Tailteann Games 1924, right)

So, during this year, Finola and I have published exactly 100 articles for Roaringwater Journal: that’s almost one each every week. It’s fascinating for us to look back and see where we have been, what turns our interests have taken, and of course to see how well (or otherwise) our writing was received. Statistics are one thing, but it’s your comments that really inform us – so keep them coming…

From Outposts of Empire: memorials in St Barrahane’s Church, Castletownshend (left) and St Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin (right)

Top of the board are two posts from Finola: one from the beginning of the year – Outposts of Empire, which researched and reviewed some of the monuments that are to be found in Protestant churches, cathedrals and graveyards in County Cork and Dublin. It’s a rich history of often only distantly remembered soldiers and battles. Why is this such a popular post? Perhaps because 2016 has been the focus for commemorations: the centenary of the Easter rising, and the fact that one hundred years ago many Irishmen were dying in the Great War. That has rather coloured the whole year in Ireland and Finola’s post – which also mentions some of the experiences of her own family – probably touches on many fertile memories.

Skibb men

How are ye keeping?

The next post in popularity dates only from last week: Finola’s latest humorous exploration of how people speak in West Cork – How are you keeping? This has become our top ‘viral hit’ on our Facebook page with thousands of views and 69 shares to date… Finola describes it as her ‘latest instalment of the How to Sound Like You’re From West Cork course’. The fifth of the series so far, it’s hilarious and has clearly captured the imaginations of our local readers.

key

Fourknocks, Boyne Valley: fetch the key and let yourself in…

To balance things out a bit the next two posts in popularity have come from Robert: Aweigh in Kerry – which delighted in the discovery of a boat-shaped house (pictured on the page header – an architectural gem) – and Fourknocks – the Little Giant, an account of a very unusual archaeological site in the Boyne Valley, north of Dublin. We were very taken by this site and its eccentricities: in order to gain access we had to collect the key (from a farm a mile away – and leaving a deposit of 20 euros) and let ourselves into the tomb which has some beautiful rock carvings.

East Window and Apse

Magnificent mosaic work in the Church of the Ascension, Timoleague

Next up is Finola’s Mosaics and Maharajas – an exploration of a wonderful church in Timoleague with walls decorated in mosaic tiling. But there’s also a strange and poignant story which this church reveals to us (read the post)… And – what’s in a name? Well, perhaps the more bizarre – or seductive or beguiling – the title of a post is, the more hits it gets! Finola’s The Murdering Glen (a valley north of Bantry, again, with a story attached) certainly attracted a lot of attention.

On the walk

looking towards west

Upper picture – the murdering Glen; lower picture – Robert’s imagining of the Cape Clear Stone restored to its rightful place on the island…

Robert’s report on the passage tomb on the summit of Cape Clear – and the story of the carved stone that’s now in the Cork Public Museum comes next: Cape Clear – the Stone that Moved, closely followed by Finola’s post on the historic walled town of Youghal in East Cork: Youghal’s Walls. Then we had ‘Auf der Waltz” – The Journeymen, a popular piece about two German apprentice blacksmiths who passed through West Cork this summer as part of their three year travels through Europe gaining experience towards becoming masters of their trade. This was also written by Robert.

on hungry hill

The Journeymen exploring beautiful West Cork: Hungry Hill (photo by Dietrich Eckardt)

Rather than list all the other posts in some sort of ‘order of popularity’, let’s round up with our own favourites. Finola has been enthusiastically researching stained glass windows in churches – wherever we travel. Besides her continuing respect for Harry Clarke – probably Ireland’s finest artist in this medium – she has discovered the identity and work of artists who inherited his mantle when he passed away (far too young) in 1931. The Harry Clarke Studios continued on until 1973 and also produced some stunning work. Have a look at Discovering Richard King to appreciate just one of the artists who followed after Harry. Another of Finola’s great posts on this medium – The Christmas Story, One Window at a Time – appeared only two weeks ago.

HC Studio, Athlone

The spectacular stained glass work of Richard King, a small detail from Sts Peter and Paul’s Catholic Church in Athlone

For myself, the subject that has engaged me most this year is my ‘Travel by Water’ series: seven posts (so far) on the Irish Canals inspired by my review of Green & Silver – a book which I was given as a prize at school in 1963! We retraced the steps of L T C Rolt, the author of the book, and his wife Angela who took some very atmospheric photographs as they travelled around the Irish waterways in 1946 – exactly 70 years ago. To celebrate my own 70th birthday this year we attempted to replicate each of the photographs as closely as possible with present-day views of the same scenes. The venture has turned out to be a real social history of Ireland and the changes that have happened during that interval of time.

ballycowan sunset

Travel by Water – ghostly reflections beside the Grand Canal at Ballycowan

So thank you to all of you – our readers. Without you our work on Roaringwater Journal would have been pointless. With you – and with the value of your comments and discussions – we feel the whole exercise is well worthwhile – so, please, let us know your own personal favourites… We certainly intend to keep the Journal going for a few years yet! Don’t forget, there is a full index in the Navigation Page – here. And, I’m sure you all know by now, anything highlighted in blue is a link to something else: either another one of our posts in the Journal, or to another relevant source of information on the subject. Good hunting!

cover

Late Bloomers: Invasive, Naturalised and Native

Creeper on white cottage wall

This is my last wildflower post! You must be getting tired of my wildflower obsession by now. So, no more after this one. (Well, at least not in 2016.) The thing is, I had assumed that there was nothing left to see at this point. We are in October after all, and autumn is coming early this year after a cool and misty summer. But a walk today put flight to that notion.

Bee on Ivy Flower

Bracken undergrowthThe ivy flowers are alive with bees right now (above) and the bracken is putting on its winter coat

The predominant colour of the countryside is changing now as the brackens take on their winter amber-brown. The ivy is in full flower. Stand near a patch and you will be instantly aware of the hum. Our little black Irish bees are gathering while they still can and depend on this late flowering and ubiquitous plant for the last remaining nectar. Ivy honey is darker in colour and can smell a little rank, but it has a great reputation as a soothing cure for coughs and colds (especially if mixed with a little whiskey).

Bee on Ivy 2

Red Admiral on IvyThe bees and the Red Admiral Butterflies depend on this late flowering ivy

The trees haven’t quite started to turn yet, but brambles and creepers are in brilliant autumn reds. On our walk today this white cottage wall with its scarlet creeper caught my eye.

Creeper on cottage wall

A couple of surprises awaited us today. The first one was to come across a stand of Indian Balsam. This alas, is an invasive species, introduced as far back at 200 years ago from the Himalayas. The distribution map at the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland does not show it in West Cork, but I guess I can now say it’s here. In fact, I submitted a report to Invasive Species Ireland – anyone can do this via their Alien Watch Program. Although it is certainly beautiful, it’s a divil – read all about its negative impacts on the Invasive Species Ireland website. Among its other attributes, it has a explosive seedpod that can throw seed up to six metres!

Indian Balsam

Indian Balsam – Invasive Species Ireland lists it with Rhododendron, Japanese Knotweed and Giant Hogweed as the most damaging invasive species

So  what’s the difference between non-native plants that are labelled invasive versus this that are called simply naturalised? Although it can be a matter of debate and perception, in the main we use the term invasive for those non-native plants that spread to such a degree as to exclude native species from the habitat they favour, or cause damage to the environment or the economy. Happily, the only invasive species we encountered on our walk was the Indian Balsam. However, we did come across lots of non-native, naturalised flowers too.

Greater Periwinkle

The Greater Periwinkle – seen a few days ago on The Mizen

The first one (actually seen a few days ago) is this beautiful Greater Periwinkle. It’s not a native plant but has been here a long time. It’s supposed to have great medicinal properties, especially as a laxative and, in an ointment it’s good for, er, piles. According to Zoe Devlin’s Wildflowers of Ireland (my go-to guide) The 17th century herbalist, Nicholas Culpeper wrote ‘that the leaves eaten by man and wife together, cause love between them. Ooh – think I might head back to where I saw it…

Ivy-leaved Toadflax

Ivy-leaved Toadflax

Another non-native species is the Ivy-Leaved Toadflax – not an attractive name for a very pretty little creeper found commonly on rock walls. During the 1600s, wealthy Brits started to import Italian marble into England in the form of building material and statuary. The Toadflax came along for the ride and is now so completely naturalised that few people realise it’s not a native plant. They look wonderful on rock walls but it’s not usually necessary to plant them yourself. According to one source I read, seeds, complete with a starter-pack of organic growing medium, are usually delivered by birds.

Pink Sorrel

Pink Sorrel

The final non-native flower we saw today was the pink sorrel. I thought at first it was Herb Robert, which is a native plant that grows everywhere and is still blooming, but closer examination revealed  a deeper pink, a more massed growth pattern and very different foliage. It’s a garden escape, now naturalised across the south and south east of Ireland.

Fuchsia on bare branches

Actually, I suppose I also have to add the fuchsia to the naturalised non-native list, even though we think of it as the quintessential West Cork flowering shrub. It’s still hanging in there, even though most of the leaves have dropped already.

Creeping Buttercup

Tormentil

The native plants still bravely blooming to delight us tended to be tiny, but bright enough among the grasses, brambles and bracken to immediately catch the eye. We saw Herb Robert, Prickly Sowthistle, Tormentil and patches of what might be Sea Radish (or perhaps not). 

Prickly Sowthistle

Prickly Sowthistle

Herb Robert is such a hardy little flower – it seems to peep out and last longer than almost everything else in the hedgerows. Birds love the seeds of the Prickly Sowthistle – it has guaranteed its survival by appealing to them and providing food when other sources are fading.

Herb Robert

Sea Radish

Herb Robert (top) and possibly Sea Radish

As  a member of the cabbage family, the leaves of the Sea Radish are edible, if a little peppery. Interestingly, it normally finishes flowering in July, so the ones we found today must be in a particularly sheltered spot. But this also raises the possibility that this is a different plant. Can anyone help identify it?

Tormentil Patch

And finally the strangely named Tormentil – it sounds like it may cause pain but in fact it’s the opposite. There are all kinds of medicinal uses for this little flower and its parts, some of which relieve the ‘torment’ of pain. It also, according to this website,  imparts nourishment and support to the bowels and the fresh root, bruised, and applied to the throat and jaws was held to heal the King’s Evil. You heard it here first!

Ballycummisk Coppermine and Gabrial

Our walk today, along one of the Fastnet Trails, took us past the old Ballycummisk mine site and gave us distant views of Mount Gabriel

The Old Mine Road

to the castle

Exactly two years ago I wrote a piece for this Journal – A Moment in Time – remarking on the very specific changes that we become aware of at the end of the summer: the holiday homes being closed up and shuttered; the boats being taken off their moorings and stored away in the boatyard; the shorebirds returning to their winter quarters. I finished up by pointing out that our own summers never end: we enjoy living in Cappaghglass just as much in the darker, colder days at the turning of the year as we do when the sun is high in the heavens.

cove gray day

high road gray day

Top – starting point: Rossbrin Cove on a gray day. Bottom – The Old Mine Road wearing its raincoat

It is an idyllic life and we are privileged to have the quiet boreens to ourselves in all weathers. We have talked about Rossbrin Cove so often, in its many seasonal variations: for today’s post I’m taking the upward road through the townland, the route that I call The Old Mine Road. This road – or more accurately this series of lanes and byways – will take the traveller from the Cove into the little town of Ballydehob, and will pass through an old copper mining district which, two hundred years ago, saw heavy industry, intermittent employment, smoke, noise, pollution and desperate human working conditions where now ‘peace comes dropping slow’ with only the crying of the Choughs over an undisturbed backdrop of rock, heather and coarse grasses – and the occasional jumble of stones showing where there were once buildings, shafts and crumbling walls marking the old mine complex.

cappaghglass

captain's house sun

Top – the landscape of The Old Mine Road: Mount Gabriel dominates the horizon to the west. Bottom – looking from the road towards Roaringwater Bay: in the foreground is the site of old mine workings, now reclaimed by nature, with one of the two Mine Captain’s Houses in the centre and the stump of an old mine chimney on the right

A walk along The Old Mine Road on a benign late September day will be rewarding because of the good air, the distant views to the Mounts Gabriel and Kidd, and with the bays of Roaringwater and Ballydehob below. You will find medieval history in the form of towerhouse castles, modern economy delineated by distinctive lines of mussel ropes spilling over the water and always alongside you the immediate wildness of a natural, undisturbed landscape. Views change as the way winds and dips – always interesting, always different, however many times you follow these routes.

mussel ropes

waving grass

mine buildings

Top – mussel ropes abundant in the Bay. Middle -waves of grass in the wild landscape to the north of the road. Bottom – ruins of old mine buildings can still be seen from the road

Autumn brings with it a certain melancholy. Time passes, our lives move relentlessly forward. We enjoy the changing of the seasons but we want to know that there will be so many more seasons to see. Each one will bring us unique experiences.

blue in the grass

from the road

Top – wildflowers in abundance on the boreens of Cappaghglass. Bottom – signs of old workings in the fields below the road

As I walk the old road, I can’t help trying to picture the scenes there from other times. I wonder what feelings the hard working miners had – did they take in the changing light and the views? Did they see the way the grasses moved with the wind, creating waves on the landscape? Did they have any time to notice nature’s fine details – the incredible variety, colours and designs of the wild flowers? Or was theirs just a drudging commute from cottage to workplace at dawn and dusk?

ballydehob wharf

The end of the road: Ballydehob Wharf, which would have seen great activity (intermittedly) when the mines were in full swing. Cappagh Mine was operating between 1816 and 1873, with its maximum output of about 400 tons of ore being produced in 1827

The poet Seamus Heaney has much to say about the hardship – and order – of a physical working life; his own father had worked the land and the poet was infected with memories of his younger days. This poem – Postscript – has a different emphasis but strikes me as a similar commentary on encounters with the landscape, although it’s concerned with another geography:

…And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you’ll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open…
wall and heather

‘Will the Hare’ – and the Mizen Olympics!

street market

…In ancient Ireland the festival of the beginning of the harvest was the first day of Autumn, that is to say, it coincided with 1 August in the Julian calendar. This has continued in recent tradition, insofar as Lúnasa or Lammas-Day was still taken to be the first day of Autumn; the gatherings and celebrations connected with it were, however, transferred to a nearby Sunday, in most parts of Ireland to the last Sunday in July, in some places to the first Sunday in August… The old Lúnasa was, in the main, forgotten as applying to the popular festival and a variety of names substituted in various localities, such as Domhnach Chrom Dubh, Domhnach Deireannach (Last Sunday), Garland Sunday, Hill Sunday and others…

making the stack

All the photographs in this post are from the collection of Tomás Ó Muircheartaigh who travelled and photographed the west of Ireland during the 1930s, 40s and 50s and is an invaluable documentary of the times in which he lived. Generally, the locations of the photographs are not noted, and very few are likely to be specific to the Mizen: they do however record life as it would have been lived at that time in all the rural areas

Today we celebrate Lúnasa – the festival of the bringing-in of the harvest. Kevin Danaher (The Year in Ireland, Mercier Press 1972) wrote (above) about what he observed in the middle of the last century, when things were already changing and many of the old customs were, as he notes, ‘in the main forgotten’, although still talked about. What changes do we see in Ireland, a few generations on?

seascape

Northside of the Mizen by Patrick McCarthy and Richard Hawkes was written in 1999 (Mizen Productions) and is a collection of memories and stories still being told then about traditional life in this westerly part of of the country:

…The heat of the summer was eased by the cooling breezes from the Atlantic. It was busy on land and sea, with seine fishing by night and fish curing and farming by day, but there was always time for scoriachting, games and dance, sometimes on Carbery Island or across Dunmanus Bay…

…Once in the year Carbery Island was the location for a dance and in settled weather the Northsiders could shout across and give the signal to the people of Muintir Bháire to meet at Carbery Island. As many as forty-five people in three boats would cross Dunmanus Bay to the White House, and a good crowd of men and women from Bear Island would also come to the dances. They were great hearty people. Ann Daly from Kilcrohane and Agnes O’Donovan of Dunkelly played the melodeon…

I like the idea of the Northsiders shouting across the water to the residents of the Sheep’s Head, two miles away! I wonder if they would be heard nowadays?

horse race

…There were competitions at Dunmanus for swimming, running, jumping and weight lifting, and you could be sure that the Northsiders were well represented in each of the events. ‘Will the Hare’ (William McCarthy of Dunkelly Middle), was good at the long jump and the running races and would often win and bring great honour to the Northside. It was said that ‘Will the Hare’ got his name by catching a hare on the run! It was also said that when you blew the whistle to gather the men for seining, by the time you had finished, ‘Will the Hare’ would be at Canty’s Cove waiting!

boat race

…Wild John Murphy would take the lads to the Crookhaven Regatta which was held on The Assumption (15th August). It was a long pull around the Mizen but a good time was had by all. The Northsiders were great with the oars, but it was hard to beat the Long Island crews in the boat races…

(Danaher): …In very many localities the chief event of the festival was not so much the festive meal as the festive gathering out of doors. This took the form of an excursion to some traditional site, usually on a hill or mountain top, or beside a lake or river, where large numbers of people from the surrounding area congregated, travelling thither on foot, on horseback or in carts and other equipages… Many of the participants came prepared to ‘make a day of it’ bringing food and drink and musical instruments, and spending the afternoon and evening in eating, drinking and dancing…

picnic

…Another welcome feature of the festive meal was fresh fruit. Those who had currants or gooseberries in their gardens, and this was usual even among small-holders in Munster and South Leinster, made sure that some dish of these appeared on the table. Those who lived near heather hills or woods gathered fraucháin (‘fraughans’, whortleberries, blueberries) which they ate for an ‘aftercourse’ mashed with fresh cream and sugar. Similar treatment was given to wild strawberries and wild raspberries by those lucky ones who lived near the woods where these grow… A number of fairs still held or until recently held at this season bear names like ‘Lammas Fair’, ‘Gooseberry Fair’, ‘Bilberry Fair’…

market in town

One interesting custom was the driving of cattle and horses into the water. This is mentioned in the 1680s by Piers in his Description of the County of West-Meath: …On the first Sunday in harvest, viz in August, they will be sure to drive their cattle into some pool or river, and therein swim them; this they observe as inviolable as if it were a point of religion, for they think no beast will live the whole year thro’ unless they be thus drenched; I deny not but that swimming of the cattle, and chiefly in this season of the year, is healthful unto them…

at the fair