A Son of Aran (20 page)

‘Anyway those of us who have to stay in Aran may as well enjoy ourselves. Who wants to come to the pub for a pint before our dinner?'

Seosamh found digs on College Road. The window of his room at the rear of the house overlooked Loughatalia, where the tide rose and fell in harmony with Galway Bay. It gave him a feeling of belonging. On his journey to the technical school on Father Griffin Road each day, he passed by the inner dock where cargo ships were berthed—loading and discharging cargo. The Limerick Steamship boat arrived every week with supplies of merchandise for local shopkeepers and traders. Fishermen from Aran on visits to the city, tied up their boats there too. Seosamh was always glad to meet with these and to get the latest update on events back home. Bigger vessels brought cargoes of heavy goods, timber for local merchants, fertilisers for MacDonacha's, iron and steel for the building industry. The docks were a hive of activity whenever one of the larger ships arrived. Dock workers lined up in anticipation of being hired, cranes delved deep into the holds of ships, delivering cargo onto waiting carts. Drivers vied with each other for position in the waiting queue.

On one occasion Seosamh noticed a ship into which sacks of potatoes were being loaded. He stood to watch as, sling after sling carrying ten bags at a time were hoisted over the deck into the hold below. Lorries and carts quickly emptied and hurried away to renew their loads. Climbing on board, Seosamh watched a man standing on deck as he tallied each sling that went over the side.

‘What kind of potatoes are these? There seems to be an awful lot of them. Where do they come from? Where are they being sent?' his questions came fast.

‘Two thousand tons,' the man replied, ‘of Irish certified seed potatoes destined for Spain and Portugal. They are grown all around county Galway—in Turloughmore, Athenry, Monivea, and other districts. Read about them yourself,' he added, as he handed Seosamh a card that had become detached from one of the bags.

‘This card is in Spanish,' Seosamh protested. ‘I'm afraid I'm not able to read it.'

‘Don't ask me,' the man said, ‘I can't read it either; a card like that goes into every sack.'

Meeting with Eileen that evening, Seosamh related his conversation with the man on the ship. Together they endeavoured to translate the script:
‘Estas batatas de semende certificado d'Irelande'
(these are certified seed potatoes from Ireland ………………..)

‘Begorra, I never thought we had such an important export,' Seosamh declared. ‘I wonder why the seed is in such demand abroad. Do you think, Eileen, do the farmers around Estat de Tirelle grow them? Maybe we should talk to them about that when next we meet them.'

‘You'll need to become more fluent in their language first. Let's get out those Spanish lessons and see how far on you are with them.'

Seosamh talked with his headmaster about his new experience. He asked him if it was possible for an individual to send potatoes abroad. The master wasn't conversant with regulations in this regard. He suggested that Seosamh might have a word with one of the exporters whose premises were located on the dockside. The master remarked that he noticed Seosamh's special interest in rural science and asked if he had leanings in that direction.

‘I want to get to know more about farming,' Seosamh answered. ‘What I have learned from our little farm in Aran is inadequate. I would like to be able to run a big farm, to know about cultivation, which crops to plant, and how to look after them.'

‘Would you think of spending a year at an agricultural college?' the master asked. ‘There you would receive expert tuition in farming at theoretical and practical levels. A limited number of scholarships are awarded every year to promising candidates. Let me know if you are interested and I will obtain details of next year's course and the relevant application forms for you to complete.'

Seosamh approached the proprietor of McGoarty & Company, agricultural produce merchants, New Docks, to ask if he could visit some of the farms where seed potatoes were grown. He wished to ascertain also the possibility of sending some potatoes abroad.

‘There is no problem in regard to seeing how crops are grown,' the man said. ‘The manager of our country branch in Monivea will be only too glad to introduce you to some of his growers. They will show you their crops and fill you in on regulations laid down by the Department of Agriculture in regard to growing and packing of certified seed. They might even invite you to help with the work at busier times of the year. With regard to sending potatoes abroad, this can only be done under license. Certified seed is marketed by the Potato Marketing Board to which we ourselves and other merchants subscribe. Potatoes are consigned in bulk for sale to trade associations in Mediterranean countries where demand arises. As you have specifically mentioned Spain, I would suggest that the only means of getting access to Irish seed there would be through local retailers.'

‘We grow great crops of potatoes in Aran by planting them in seaweed and sand,' Seosamh said, ‘but the farmers that I am concerned with in Spain don't have access to those materials.

‘I am conversant with Aran produce,' the man replied. ‘From time to time we purchase your surplus potatoes which find favour with chip fryers here in Galway—large, clean skinned tubers are in demand in their business.'

‘Aren't you the enterprising boy,' Eileen remarked when Seosamh filled her in on his investigations. ‘I believe you can't wait to get your teeth into farming at Estat de Tirelle. Soon you'll be telling me how to conduct my business over there.'

‘Forgive me, Eileen, if I'm jumping ahead in my enthusiasm—remember you did ask me.'

‘Tell me, Seosamh, what is this about attending a course at an agricultural college? What have you found out about it?'

‘The headmaster in the technical school has given me details of a course at Athenry Agricultural College commencing in October. I'm going to try for a scholarship to go there. If I am successful I'll avail of it—how else am I going to learn to manage a farm?'

‘I'm delighted at your enthusiasm, Seosamh. Between learning about agriculture, and brushing up on your Spanish, you'll be ready to accompany me to Spain next year.'

Peadar's party in Galway was acclaimed by all as a great night. Determined to make the most of their trip, he and Máirtín sailed the hooker into the Claddagh Basin, where they tied it up for the duration of their stay. They took with them a supply of poitín which, together with supplies of brandy and wine that they brought from France, contributed to the atmosphere of the event. Roast lamb cooked on a spit, served by Rhona's staff, proved to be second to none; washed down with lashings of wine and spirits, it served to raise the hearts of all present. Peadar, in his beautiful tenor voice, entertained his guests with renderings of Annach Cuan, Fáinne Geal an Lae, and Cruacha Glas na hEireann.

‘There'll (hic), be no (hic) fishing for us today,' Máirtín stammered as, with the sun already rising in the eastern sky, and arms around each other for support, they staggered along Henry Street to their accommodation.

‘That was a night to remember,' he added sleepily, when they awoke next afternoon and headed for Raven Terrace to avail of a ‘hair of the dog that bit them' at their friend Mike's pub.

For Seosamh, life in the agricultural college was an eye opener. For the first time he became associated with aspiring young farmers from other parts of Ireland—counties Clare, Kerry, Limerick, Mayo, Sligo, and Roscommon. Two other Galway lads helped to make up the complement of twenty-four students. Divided into groups of twelve, they alternated on a daily basis between class and outdoor work. A rota, affixed to the wall of the common room, indicated the role to which each student was assigned and the relevant hours of duty—cow byre, poultry run, piggery, fattening yards, garden, stables, etc. Following breakfast at seven o'clock, clad in heavy boots, breeches, and leggings, they commenced their allotted tasks at eight. Lunch at midday was followed by field work—gathering potatoes, snagging turnips, harvesting sugar beet. At four they returned to the byre where forty cows had to be milked by hand. The milk was carried to the dairy for cooling and separation of cream; milking utensils were washed, scalded and put away and the dairy was sluiced down under the supervision of the Dairy Mistress. At six o'clock a substantial evening meal was put on table, after which students were free to socialise and enjoy their respite. Supper at nine was followed by prayers and lights out at ten.

‘Who said farming was a doddle?' Seosamh remarked to the fellow next him as he settled down in bed for the night.

Indoor classes covered a range of farming activities, methods of cultivation, crop rotation, use of fertilisers, varieties of root crops and cereals, harvesting of grain crops, hay and silage, animal nutrition, diseases of livestock, dairying, dry stock husbandry, rearing and fattening of pigs, egg production, management of poultry flocks, cultivation of outdoor and indoor horticultural crops, fruit growing—to Seosamh, the list of subjects appeared endless.

‘I never knew that farming was such a complex business,' he told Eileen when she visited him at the college on Sunday. ‘After I have come to grips with all that I'm being taught here, I still don't know how much of the information is applicable to conditions in Spain.'

‘I wouldn't worry too much about that,' said Eileen, ‘I'm sure cultivation and planting techniques are pretty similar no matter where they are practiced. With a detailed knowledge of how things are done in Ireland, you will be able to compare notes with those you meet at Estat de Tirelle, and to discuss with them possible ways of improving their methods of production.'

During his year in the agricultural college Seosamh became friendly with a fellow-student from County Offaly whose family owned a large estate near Clonmacnoise. Vincent, his pal, drove his own Volkswagen Beetle to visit home at weekends. Knowing that Seosamh was anxious to get as broad a view as possible of Irish farming, he brought him with him on occasions. The Coughlan family of three boys and two girls made him welcome. Gerald, the eldest son, showed him around the farm where harvesting of sugar beet and potatoes had begun; fields from which corn had earlier been cut, were being ploughed in preparation for the next year's planting. Seosamh was impressed by the potato harvester drawn by a heavy tractor which lifted the crop onto a moving platform from where helpers removed stones and debris as the potatoes were filled into an accompanying trailer. This was a considerable improvement on the back-breaking method of gathering tubers off the ground that he had seen in county Galway. Sugar beet, lifted mechanically, superseded the older method of manual pulling and crowning. Seosamh intimated that he would like to learn how to drive a tractor and be able to participate in all the farm activities. Perhaps the family would allow him to work with them for a spell. Mr Coughlan considered his request and agreed that he could join the work force as a paid employee for a few months when he had completed his college course. The boys were overjoyed. Seosamh was a breath of new life into what they regarded as their mundane life style. The girls were excited at having a young man of their vintage residing with them. Maybe he would join them in rowing on the Shannon and accompany them to dances in Tullamore where they were sometimes permitted to go. Mary and Sheona were beautiful talented young women. Mary played the piano, while Sheona was an accomplished violinist—Seosamh felt that, given time, he might learn more than farming in the Coughlan homestead!

‘If only I were free,' he sighed, ‘but I have made a commitment that I am not prepared to renounce.'

Eileen was philosophical when he related his circumstances to her.

‘Follow your heart, Seosamh,' she said. ‘If you become serious with someone else I will not stand in your way, but remember that forming a close relationship with a girl in whose house you live is fraught with danger for both par-ties—there are times when we all get carried away—after which there is no going back.'

‘Don't worry, Eileen, I haven't two-timed on you yet.' he replied.

Having completed his term in Athenry, Seosamh stayed with the Coughlan family until the following spring by which time he had learned to drive their biggest farm tractor with which he ploughed, tilled and sowed oats, wheat, barley, and sugar beet. Vincent allowed him to use his car around the farm until he became proficient at driving and secured a license. He then gave him use of the car whenever the girls went shopping in Tullamore or to dances. Both young women would have been willing to have a fling with Seosamh but, much as he would have liked to oblige them, his sights were fixed on a more distant horizon. He told them about Spain and his intention to emigrate to there if things worked out.

‘Will you two visit me when I get settled in?' he teased. ‘I will be glad to take you on a tour of my hachiendo.'

‘We think you have more than one interest in Spain,' Mary said. ‘Why don't you tell us about the señorita that is waiting for you out there?'

‘You'll have to come and see for yourselves,' Seosamh laughingly replied.

‘Eileen, Seosamh, and I are going to Spain in July?' Peadar told Máirtín as they returned from a fishing trip. ‘We'd like if you would come with us.'

The fishing had been good that year. Eileen had finished her course in the university and was awaiting results. Seosamh had completed his term at the agricultural college. The time was opportune for a little relaxation for all of them.

‘A spell in the sun will take some of the soup out of our bones,' Peadar added. ‘Sure all wealthy people go to Spain for holidays—why shouldn't we do the same?'

‘I'm grateful for the invitation,' Máirtín replied. ‘With all the talk I have heard from Seosamh about the place on the night of the party, I'm dying to see it for myself. We'll pull in the hooker for a few weeks, get Micilín and his companions to look after things here at home, and we can go with a clear conscience. I'm looking forward to the trip already.'