A Son of Aran (41 page)

‘One last question,' the examiner said, ‘what has motivated you to volunteer for this assignment in the Atlantic?'

‘Three reasons,' Peadar replied. ‘Firstly, as a man of some means, I don't have to work for a livlihood any more. Secondly, with a lot of time on my hands, I want to experience seagoing on a larger scale and to study tides and weather conditions in the broad Atlantic. Thirdly, I am interested in the research you propose to carry out on volcanic sites under and above sea level. I would like to be in a position to prove or disprove ancient stories of a legendary island that is supposed to have been seen by fishermen on various occasions, although none have been able to approach it or go ashore.'

‘Extraordinary interests,' one member of the interview board remarked to his counterparts.

Following muted discussion, the chairman spoke: ‘Mr O'Flaherty, we would be pleased if you would supply us with letters of reference and a medical report as soon as possible. In the event of these being found satisfactory, you should hold yourself in readiness for a sudden call to join The Abercorn Voyager for a voyage which will last at least six months, possibly longer, depending on research findings.'

‘
Moladh mór do Dhia
(all praise to God)!' Peadar shouted at the top of his voice as he rejoined Máirtín outside. ‘At last, I have realised my dream. I am to join the research vessel The Abercorn Voyager for six months in the Atlantic Ocean; it won't cost me a penny. Wait ‘till I tell Eileen and Seosamh. Come with me, Máirtín, my good friend, we must celebrate this occasion.'

Peadar displayed little interest in helping Máirtín to identify a suitable boat in the Scottish ports they visited, nor was he enamoured at the suggestion that they should visit distilleries in the Highlands while they were in that part of Scotland. His sights were firmly set on getting back to Aran as quickly as possible to tell Eileen and Seosamh of his good luck, and to pack some things in anticipation of a sudden call from Southampton. In a desire to keep him onside, Máirtín decided that they would take the shorter route from Stranraer to Belfast and thence by train and bus to Galway.

‘We've been hearing a lot about Belfast this while back,' he said to Peadar as they entered the city. ‘While we have the opportunity, do you think we might take a turn down the Falls, or across the Malone Road—I'd like to be able to tell people in Aran that we had been in those places, to observe for ourselves the carry-on that goes on there every night between the Protestants and Catholics. We might even experience some disturbance.'

‘No way will I go to any of those places, Máirtín. With our west of Ireland accents, we'd be sitting ducks for one side or the other. What would I do if I got hit by a brick or a petrol bomb? I can't afford to get injured at this stage with my medical certificate in the balance. We could be pulled in by the police too on suspicion of being here on subversive activities—it wouldn't do to have a charge like that on my references at this critical stage of my career. If you don't mind, I'd prefer that we didn't delay in Belfast but get away as fast as we can. I'll not be content until we cross the border into our own country.'

Boarding the train in Belfast for Derry, Peadar, conscious of his broad west of Ireland accent, glanced furtively to left and right before occupying a corner seat and concealing his face behind a copy of
The Belfast Telegraph
which he pretended to read. Headlines and accompanying photographs of rioting in Ballymurphy the previous night did little to dispel his anxiety. He remained silent for the duration of the journey. As they left Derry en route to Sligo and Galway, the bus approached the frontier post at Kildrum on the border with County Donegal. Taking its place in a lengthy build up of traffic, progress was slow. Peadar grew aprehensive when he saw the tall steelmesh security tower manned by an armed sentry. Flanking the road to either side, British soldiers, in combat attire, trained their rifles on each passing vehicle while two of their colleagues questioned the occupants.

‘What will the British army do to us?' he asked a Donegal man seated next him. ‘I have never been in this kind of situation before. Will they take us out and search us? If they find the bottle of Bushmills whiskey that I am carrying, will they arrest me?'

‘If you have nothing more explosive than whiskey, you needn't fear the army—they'll not search you unless they have suspicion of you. When the army officer approaches, appear unconcerned. Look him in the face but don't make eye contact. I reckon you'll get through without any difficulty.'

‘That wasn't too bad after all,' Peadar commented as the bus was waved on, and the blood returned to his face. ‘We'll be in our own country in a few minutes.'

‘That's true,' replied the stranger, ‘but you're not out of the wood yet. The Irish customs post is up ahead. You'd be well to put that bottle of whiskey inside your shirt or it will be confiscated. Better still, if you uncork it, and drink some of the contents, the customs officer will accept that it is for your own use and he'll let you take it through.'

‘Thanks for your advice, I don't know what I would have done if we hadn't spoken to each other. Here, take a slug of it yourself for your trouble. Máirtín, will you have a drop?

I don't agree with this Border and all that goes with it,' Peadar stated with conviction after the coach crossed into County Donegal. ‘It's a damn shame that Irish people can't move freely around their own country without being challenged by both our own and the British authorities.'

His feelings of anger abated in a little while. They passed a signpost indicating the Grianán of Aileach.

‘Look, Máirtín,' he shouted with excitement, ‘on the hill over there is the ancient fortress of the O'Neills, kings of Ulster. I would love to visit it but we don't have an opportunity today—some other time maybe! I must get back to Aran as fast as I can—important letters may be waiting for me.'

His interest in the countryside increased with every mile as he watched out for recognisable features of the landscape.

‘There's Ben Bulban where Fionn and the Fianna used to hunt the wild boar,' he said, ‘that's where Fionn found Diarmad and Gráinne frolicing together. When Diarmad lay dying from an injury, he called for a drink from the well to slake his thirst. Fionn let the water drain through his fingers as he carried it to him. As a result Diarmad died of thirst and Fionn took Gráinne for himself. If Oisín had been there he wouldn't have allowed that to happen; he was away in Tír na n-Óg at the time.'

Máirtín was astounded at the extent of Peadar's knowledge of Irish history and mythology.

‘I suspected that he was reading a lot recently,' he said to himself, ‘now I know for sure.'

‘Eileen, we're back with good news,' Peadar declared with wild excitement when he and Máirtín arrived home. ‘Subject to a few incedental requirements, I have been offered the opportunity I have been waiting for all my life, a lengthy assignment aboard a research vessel that leaves shortly for the Atlantic Ocean. If all works out as I anticipate, I'll not be seeing Seosamh or you for the best part of a year. During that time I hope to find the lost Isle of the Blest where my father is said to have gone many years ago. Will you give me your blessing as I set out on this wonderful adventure?'

‘Of course, Dad, I am delighted that you are about to fulfill your dearest dream. I am consoled that you will be in the company of a responsible research group who won't allow you to do anything foolish—better by far than your earlier plan to ally yourself with some unknown sailors from West Africa. I will miss you—Seosamh, Carl, and Eileen Óg, will miss you too. However, your happiness and fulfillment is important to us. We will be thinking of you while you are away and praying that you return safely.'

‘Micilín, I'll be away for the rest of the year. The potatoes will be ready for digging soon. You know that Seosamh isn't able for physical work; will you look after these, put some in a pit for the use of Eileen and the family, and keep the remainder for yourself. You might keep an eye on the cattle too; when October comes, maybe you'd bring them to the fair in Galway. If you fail to sell them, don't give them to those ‘daylin' men that hover around the fair green waiting to pick them up at their own price. Go out the road to Bushy Park where a man named Carty will hold them for you until the following fair. Carty is a decent man—don't forget to treat him right; he took me out of a hole many years ago when I was faced with a similar situation. We Aran people should treasure the good friends we have in Galway—without them we would often be in a bad way.'

News of Peadar's success soon got around; his neighbours congratulated him. ‘Begorra, Peadar,' they said to him, ‘if you find the island of Hy Brasil and return safely we'll erect a monument to you on the pier at Kilronan.'

‘
Turas seafóideach
(a silly journey),' was how one man described Peadar's proposed trip to a group of islanders congregated outside the chapel after Mass on Sunday: ‘
nach bfuil fios againn go léir nach bfuil sa scéal sin ach ráfla a chuir iascaire éigin amach tar éis dó iomarca poitín a ól
(don't we all know that story is only a rumour put out by some fisherman who had drunk too much poitín).'

‘
N'feadar cérb é an iascaire sin
(I wonder who that fisherman was),' another said.
‘Tá an scéal céanna dhá chrao-ileadh leis na glúnta fada anuas
(that same tale has been in circulation for long generations past).
B'fhéidir go bfuil rian na fírinne ann
(maybe there's a grain of truth in it).'

‘
Bhuel, cathfidh muid fanacht go dtí go dtiocfaidh Peadar thar n-ais chun cuntas cruinn a fháil faoi
(well, we'll have to wait until Peadar returns to obtain full details about it),
sé sin, más rud é go bfillídh sé riamh
(that's if he ever comes back).'

Preparations completed, suitcases packed and labelled, Peadar bade goodbye to his family and friends in Aran and boarded the Dun Aengus for Galway. He stayed there overnight to drink a few pints with Festy, the Claddagh fishermen, and his former workmates in MacDonacha's. He called on Miss Leedon too, acquainting her of his good fortune:

‘If it weren't for you,' he assured her, ‘I would never have known about the research team or The Abercorn Voyager. I will be forever grateful to you for keeping me in mind. I'll let you know in due course how the sea trip is going. I hope we will meet when I get back.'

Bright and early next day he was on his way to Dunlaoire and Holyhead en route to Southampton. Singing softly to himself, his mind raced ahead to the much sought after trip to the South Atlantic.

‘What great discovery will I make?' he mused. ‘Will I succeed in finding the legendary island of Hy Brasil? Will anyone be living there? Will I meet my father who disappeared before I was old enough to know him well? If we do meet, will we recognise each other? Questions, questions, questions—no answers at present—in time, all will be revealed!'

Southampton Water, the channel stretching inland from the Solent, lay resplendent in the light of early morning sunshine as Peadar retraced his steps along the docks to Canada Wharf. Lifted by a flowing tide, The Abercorn Voyager swayed gently on her moorings, its grey hull and gleaming superstructure complemented by two lifeboats fastened on deck, together with an array of nautical equipment, life belts and life jackets, all securely stowed aft.

‘Like to take a look around before we go inside?' a bystander asked. ‘I take it you are Mr O'Flaherty—we have been awaiting your arrival. I am Jake Larmer, your captain. Come with me while I give you the grand tour of our ship and relate her history and vital statistics: Built in Bremen pre World War Two, length 553 feet, width 75 feet, tonnage 17,900, twin screw, diesel propulsion, 13,500 BHP, Max speed 17 knots. As you see, her upper deck has been fully kitted out with life saving equipment. A light dinghy is included for exploration use in shallow waters. Ship's officers and members of the research team will occupy berths on the main deck. Crew members will be accommodated below. Individual roles will be allocated later this morning, routine duties will be explained and preliminary instructions given. Trial exercises and emergency drill will take place over the next few days to ensure that each member of the crew is fully familiar with his duties, capable of discharging them in an efficient manner, and displaying, at all times, willingness and espirit de corps. That's all for the moment—we meet in the officers' lounge at eleven sharp.'

‘Welcome, gentlemen, aboard The Abercorn Voyager. My name is Jake Larmer, your captain and chief officer on this research expedition. Your fellow mariners and their responsibilities are as follows:

Research Officers:

Francois Claude, France

Joseph Mario, United States of America

Hokyo Hama, Japan

First Mate:

Anton St. Bernard, Germany,

with responsibility for supplies

Marine engineer:

Mohammed Hassan, Saudi Arabia

Cook:

Chan Li Fu, China

Crew:

Jean Baroja, Basque Country

Peadar O'Flaherty, Ireland

Alphonso de Gorma, Portugal

Trias Corassus, Greece

‘Scientific researchers aboard, specialists in geology, seismology, marine biology, and related disciplines, are professional divers and cartographers. They will support each others activities without interference by staff, other than as boatmen and porters.

‘Crew members will act as general deck hands, undertake rotational watch duties and assume responsibility for overall security of the vessesl and its personnel. Shore leave, where appropriate, will be at the discretion of your captain to whom requests shall be directed.

‘Over the next four days you will be initiated in your respective roles. On this voyage, due to limited resources at the disposal of the organisers, each member is expected to perform duties assigned at any given time, in a spirit of willingness, co-operation, and cordiality. Exercises commence tomorrow. Assembly on main deck is at 7.00 hours.'