A Son of Aran (42 page)

‘September 20
^th
1961, the first day of the rest of my life,
Glóir do Dhia
(praise to God), here we go,' Peadar mused as The Abercorn Voyager slipped its moorings and slowly edged its way down the waterway to the Solent. Resplendent in the morning sun, its green and white pennant fluttered in the light breeze as the ship entered the English Channel. In the melee of vessels berthing and leaving port, its departure went unnoticed, apart from a small number of colleagues and well wishers on the quayside who waved to their scientist friends on board. At the outset the sea was calm but, as the ship approached the coast of Cornwall, the swell of the Atlantic caused those aboard to call on their sea legs to stay upright. The crew, from varying nationalities and backgrounds, had not yet become fully acquainted. Although English was the official language of the expedition, familiarity of some members with the language was basic. Focus on personal names proved difficult, giving rise to abbreviations being resorted to—Cha, Jan, Tri, Alpho, Pedro.

After the vessel had safely negotiated the English Channel, a south westerly course was set; an outline plan for the voyage was revealed at a meeting convened by the captain: ‘The route proposed on this trip encompasses sites of volcanic origin, identified and unidentified, from the Azores southwards to Tristan da Cunha with exploratory expeditions in sea areas adjacent to the Canary Islands, Cape Verde and Sargasso. Port calls will be made en route at which, subject to captain's permission, brief shore leave may be allowed. Due to the nature of research activities, progress between points indicated will, of necessity, be slow.'

For the crew, the early days of the expedition were occupied in familiarising themselves with duties of deck scrubbing, routine cleaning of quarters, polishing brasses, and rotation of the twenty four hour watch. As the ship moved at a leisurely speed in the direction of the Azores, coastlines of Spain and Portugal gradually diminished and the broad Atlantic Ocean surrounded them on all sides. Peadar, taking his turn at daylight watch, scanned the sea with a long telescope. In off time, leaning on the rail, he recalled the trauma of his abandonment by smugglers in those same waters, lashed to a beam of balsa wood to keep him afloat, and his eventual rescue many miles further south by the more benevolent crew of a fishing vessel.

‘In my comatose state, did I really have the revelation that I remember, or was my mind confused by old tales of Manannnán Mac Lir and his son Mongán, as told by fishermen and others? One part of my experience has been proved valid, however. Earlier investigations of marine species confirm that the sea horse, or sea serpent as the reptile is known, does exist in Atlantic waters. In the aftermath of the cyclone, did this creature propel me at speed to the position where I was later found? Did I really see the outline of land away to the west where no such land is known to exist? Am I destined to find the elusive island of Hy Brasil that so many fishermen claim to have seen but never reached? Some day soon, perhaps, that question will be answered!'

As the Voyager approached a proliferation of small islands that bordered The Azores, the scientific officers could be seen pouring over charts and taking measurements. The ship stood off at some distance from land while the dinghy was lowered. One of the crew was detailed to man the oars while research officer, Mario, equipped with diving gear, was lowered over side. After he had spent some hours exploring underwater sites, he returned to ship where he discussed findings with his colleagues. Officer Hama duplicated the exercise, and they were seen to enter their findings in a log book. Accompanied by two crew men, Officer Claude landed on Sao Miguel where, he told them, a series of volcanic tremors and eruptions had been recorded in previous centuries, the most recent some twenty five years previously. He seemed particularly interested in sampling hot springs that were widespread on the island. In all, the exercises occupied two days. Peadar was disappointed that he had not been chosen as oarsman—he was anxious to display his prowess in that area. He would have liked too to get a closer view of the luxuriant island vegetation which he observed in the distance, and to sample some of the luscious fruits hanging tantalisingly from plum trees and vines.

Several days later the tall peaks of Madeira beckoned ahead. Although, judging by their shape, these appeared to be of volcanic origin, the research people did not express an interest in probing them. The Voyager made a brief stop at Funchal on the main island where Peadar was granted permission to go ashore long enough to send post cards to Eileen and family, Máirtín, Festy, and Miss Leedon, briefly acquainting them of his voyage to date. In the sweltering heat he quaffed a few glasses of finest Madeira wine and took a supply with him on board to treat his mates. Barefoot, clad only in shorts during their leisure hours, he found the crew lazing on the deck in glorious sunshine, their bodies tanned like leather from wind and weather.

‘Sante, salude, chin- chin,' they chanted in chorus as they drank his health.

‘This is the life I have been longing for,' Peadar mused, ‘different by a long shot from my experience of a few years ago in these waters.'

Seeing him falling silent, his companions roused him from his reverie.

‘Hey, Pedro, what caused a fellow like you to volunteer for this trip?' Alpho, the big Portugese man, asked. ‘Would you not have been better occupied netting fish along the coast of your native Ireland?'

‘What prompted any of us?' Peadar responded. ‘Like you, I love the sea and all that relates to it. I happen to be in a situation in which I don't have to fish any more to earn a living. I want to see more of the world; I have an interest in volcanos that are known to erupt from time to time in these waters. Perhaps we'll experience an earthquake during our trip. The lost island of Hy Brasil lies beneath the ocean somewhere out here—should it reappear, I would like to be the first to set foot on it.'

‘You're a dreamer, Pedro', said the Greek. ‘In my country there are similar legends about a lost city named Atlantis that lies at the bottom of the sea. Despite many searches, nobody has succeeded in locating it. As far as I am concerned it is a fable handed down from one generation to the next. I don't believe the story.'

‘I wouldn't discount fables such as these,' commented the Basque. ‘All ancient peoples have their own particular mythology—who can say which version is right? Wise men of olden times were not given to concocting stories about nature. Somewhere, somebody experienced an unexplained phenomenon and recorded it. Insofar as that person could ascertain, his account was valid. That's how the saga commenced. I'm in agreement with Pedro in his quest for the island he speaks about. Without vision and imagination, life would be humdrum—there would be no innovations or inventions. Look at this ship with its diesel engines—a century ago, who would credit that a big boat could operate without sails? It's the same in many other areas of living. Go for it, Pedro, don't give up on your dream.'

‘How about you, Chan?' asked Peadar, ‘You are a long way from your country—why did you volunteer for this voyage?'

‘I flee China because of bad emperor. I was fisherman in my country; he take my boat and my fish. I am man of the sea. I no go back. I now fish some more. I take fish from sea at night. I cook, you eat fresh fish. I am free man now; I make fish shop in England when we get back.'

Steep, rocky coastlines, cone shaped mountains and barren hillsides greeted their arrival off the Canary Islands. From what he had read, there was no doubt in Peadar's mind that these were the result of volcanic eruptions of thousands, maybe millions, of years ago. The captain dropped anchor off the port of Las Palmas; the scientists went ashore, one at a time, in the dinghy. Peadar, chuffed at having been chosen as oarsman on this occasion, returned to ship when his assignment had been completed. It was Chan's turn to have shore leave. For most of their stop-over of one month's duration in the Canaries, the dinghy was in constant demand ferrying the scientists from one island to another where they collected samples of soil and rock fragments from above and below sea level and took these back on board. Crew members in attendance on those occasions had the opportunity of viewing different facets of natural vegetation (mostly the lack of such) at elevated levels, and fringe areas of low valley lands where vines, sweet potato, and sugar cane were cultivated. All got to see the craters of extinct volcanoes at the crest of Vandama, 2000 feet in depth, and Pico de Los Muchachos. Materials ejected from these eruptions were accorded special attention by the investigating team.

‘I hope the ship she will not founder from the weight,' Mohammed laughingly remarked as the scientists and crew brought more and more samples on board.

For the long voyage from the Canary Islands to Tristan da Cunha the marine engineer pulled out all the stops. The Abercorn Voyager responded, accelerating at times to its maximum of seventeen knots. By-passing Cape Verde archipelago and the island of St Helena, in ten days the vessel had crossed the equator and arrived in the South Atlantic midway between South Africa and Brazil.

‘Hey, my friends, it behoves us to observe the ancient maritime tradition,' Julio announced, as he doused the crew without warning when the ship crossed the equatorial line. In the soaring temperatures prevailing, his action was acclaimed rather than resisted.

‘Now I am really seeing the world,' Peadar shouted with glee. ‘Never in my wildest dreams did I think a trip like this was on the cards. I only wish we had something better than water to celebrate with. I salute you, comrades, with a blessing from my native tongue—
sláinte agus saol againn
(life and health to us),
is go mbeirmuid beo an tam seo arís'
(and may we be alive this time next year).

Darkened skies illuminated by a mountainous column of fire appeared on the skyline as the ship approached Tristan da Cunha. Violent erruptions, emissions of acrid gasses and steam, were accompanied by streams of lava, pouring from the mouth of a giant crater that, for several months, had continued to flow over the island into the ocean on all sides. Massive tidal waves and heat emanating from the volcano, prohibited close approach. The Voyager stood off at a safe distance from the eruptions which continued unabated.

Hokyo Hamma, in broken English, explained the phenomenon: ‘We included Tristan da Cunha in our itinerary in order to monitor the intensity of this major eruption that is currently taking place, and to reiterate what is known, and still only partly understood, about volcanos, their incidence, and the reasons for their occurrence. In my native country of Japan we have many earthquakes due to the proximity of raised land levels and deep seas. A similar situation exists in the United States of America where violent earth tremors have occurred in recent times on the coast of the Pacific Ocean near San Francisco. The eruption at Tristan da Cunha, which commenced some months ago, is of a different character in that it originates beneath the ocean and is accompanied by massive tidal waves. Already the island has been inundated by molten lava, necessitating evacuation of the whole population. How much longer the eruptions will continue is not known—there is no established pattern. There is no question of attempting a landing here.'

The Voyager circumnavigated the island at a safe distance before turning once again in the direction of the North Atlantic and Sargasso Sea. Air samples, collected by the scientists, added to the accumulation of specimens already on board.

The next leg of the expedition around Cape Verde and adjacent sea areas was the scene of their most comprehensive explorations. Officer Mario explained that in this zone lay the remnants of a multitude of uncharted underwater eruptions which demanded attention by his team. For this purpose a grid of nine hundred miles square had been chosen for investigation. He warned that progress would be slow; there would be no further landfall for several months. He praised the crew for their endurance to date, and reminded them of their commitment to carry out their duties in ‘espirit de coure' despite whatever difficulties should arise from soaring temperatures and unforseen weather conditions.

It was the Greek's turn to go ashore. Peadar entrusted him with a letter to Eileen which he asked him to post.

‘Bring some whiskey, Tri,' the others shouted as he disembarked. ‘It will be a long time before we get another opportunity to slake our thirsts.'

Trias wasn't listening—he had been to the Azores before and had his own ideas of how he would occupy his shore leave.

‘See you soon, but not too soon,' he scoffed as he waved them goodbye.

Meantime the dinghy was put into service to ferry Francois to a number of the small islets in the Cape Verde archipelago. Jan, the Basque, took over the watch. Temperature was the highest they had yet experienced; the seas around them were dead calm with only the faintest breeze to cool the humid air. All were glad when the Voyager moved to the broader ocean. Crew members, freed from duty, languished in the comparative cool of their berths—the whiskey which Trias had taken on board did little to revive their drooping spirits. Patiently they waited for sundown to bring a measure of relief from the exhausting heat. Remembering the oft recited warning of ‘calm before the storm' and its significance for Aran fishermen, Peadar wondered if the saying held good in this far removed zone of the Atlantic where huricanes and tropical cyclones regularly occurred. It wasn't long before the truth of the adage hit him with force.

‘Barometer falling,' the captain announced as a light wind arose. A halo around the sun gave warning of violent weather on the way.

‘Still falling,' the captain reiterated some hours later as thunder rolled, lightning flashed on the water, and torrential rainfall commenced. The whine of an ever rising wind suddenly reached a crecendo in a violent storm that rocked the ship and sent mountainous waves crashing over the deck.