A Son of Aran (43 page)

‘Cut engines and drop anchor,' the captain roared above the din. Swaying to left and right, the Voyager withstood the buffetting of wind and waves as the cyclone gained intensity. A thick mist reduced visibility to a matter of yards; little could be done except sit tight and pray that the storm would blow itself out. Daylight brought a panorama of accumulated debris, dead birds, fish, and small reptiles, floating on the surface of the still turbulent sea. Lying inert on the deck was a collection of strange creatures that Peadar had never before encountered. Cha busied himself sorting the more identifiable edible specimens—these would grace the menu on board for weeks to come.

‘It's an ill wind that doesn't bring some good,' Peadar remarked as he helped to sluice the deck after unwanted specimens had been thrown overboard. Pausing to lean on the rail, he took stock of species that followed in the wake of the vessel or swam alongside in the aftermath of the storm—he was able to identify the porpoise, sperm whale, blunt nose shark, and conger eel, as they fought over the spoils. Other species of reptiles and fish were foreign to him. Shags circling overhead suggested the presence of a sea monster in the vicinity.

‘I must keep a look out for the sea horse that sailors claim to have seen in these parts,' Peadar reminded himself. ‘He saved me from drowning when I was washed overboard many years ago. In turbulent sea conditions, reptiles and other unusual species of marine life are often carried far from their accustomed habitats—if we're lucky we should be able to see some of these in the days ahead.'

‘Am I not glad we survived that blow!' the first mate was heard to remark as the engines were restarted, and the ship moved further towards the area designated for research. ‘A few extra knots in wind velocity and we'd all have been in Davy's Locker. The Voyager is a strong ship but there's a limit to what a vessel can endure in a cyclone.'

‘
Glóir do Dhia
(praise to God),' Peadar ejaculated— ‘I didn't realise we were so near to disaster. I would have thought that hardened sailors had no fear of any conditions they met with at sea. My mates don't have Manannan Mac Lir to protect them, do they?'

The scientists recommenced their underwater exercises. Battered though it was by the storm, the dinghy was put into service once again to ferry them, one at a time, to their chosen sites. In conversation with the crew as they went, Mario explained how, over millions of years, eruptions from below sea level threw up vast quantities of rock and lava to form islands, large or small, depending on the intensity of the eruption in each case. Apart from centres of volcanic origin that we have visited, Canary Islands, Cape Verde, and Tristan da Cunha, such manifestations sometimes remain visible—others disappear quickly due to the volcano becoming inactive or because of raised ocean levels.

‘Our current task, ‘he said, ‘is to chart the locations of as many of these as we can identify, and to record our observations on them.'

Peadar listened attentively to what Mario said—he had a few thoughts of his own on the topic. Two days later as he stood first watch, he heard what he thought was the rumble of an earth tremor. Looking through the telescope he observed in the distance, a monstrous object rising above sea level, sending a spout of water high into the air, and causing an outflow of waves that lapped the ship.

‘Unidentified object to starboard,' he called aloud, as he sounded the emergency bell. The captain and first mate came running in their night attire and trained their telescopes on the point indicated.

‘Can't identify what it is,' the captain admitted. ‘Mate, rouse the scientific officers, we'll see what they have to say.'

Francois Claude and Hokyo Hama came on the scene; they scrutinised the object intensely.

‘Looks like some kind of underwater eruption,' Francois suggested—'note the rumbling sound, perhaps it is the commencement of a volcano.' Hokyo Hama agreed. ‘See the waves emanating from it, ‘he said. ‘I don't know what else can explain the phenomenon. Can we approach nearer in order to get a better view?'

‘No way—I cannot endanger the ship,' the captain replied. ‘If it should prove to be of volcanic origin, we should think of moving farther out of range.'

At this stage Joseph Mario had come on deck.

‘What do you make of it, Mario,' the captain asked. ‘Do you think we have here the onset of a volcanic eruption? I daren't take the Voyager any nearer in case we endanger the vessel and ourselves. If some of you want to be couragous, I have no objection to you making use of the dinghy to take a closer look.'

There were no volunteers. As they watched, the rumbling noise became more pronounced, the head of steam grew higher and more menacing. Looks of fear were evident on faces all around.

Peadar was the only one to speak. ‘Gentlemen, if I may speak—I feel we are looking at the lost Isle of Hy Brasil that Irish fishermen claim to have encountered, only to see it disappear as soon as they attempted to set foot on it. If you will permit me, I am willing to take the dinghy and try to unravel the mystery. If it is the mythical Isle of the Blest, I want to be the first to set foot on it and to claim it for my country.'

‘You are a brave man, Pedro,' said the captain, ‘but, I have no doubt, others will call you a fool. You have my permission to take the dinghy; firstly let us attach a line in case you do not return—we need that boat for our officers to continue with their research programme.'

In a state of high excitement, Peadar clambered into the dinghy, clutching in his hand a tricolour flag that he retrieved from his belongings. Plying the oars in steady rhythm, he headed in the direction of the object. The captain and crew watched anxiously as his distance from ship increased. Buffetted by the turbulent sea, the little boat rocked and swayed. Engrossed in his errand, Peadar didn't appear to notice until he drew alongside.

‘Oileán na naomh
—
tá tú faighte agam sa deire
(island of the saints—I have found you at last),' he shouted triumphantly as he raised his arm to plant the Irish flag.

Those on board heard a tremendous roar. A monstrous dark-coloured creature rose from the water. Thrashing its tail in anger, it sent Peadar and the dinghy flying into the air before they disappeared from sight.

‘A naomh Mhuire, mháthair Dé guí orm
(Holy Mary, mother of God pray for me),' he exclaimed in terror as, swallowed by high waves, he tried to hold on to the submerged dinghy and line.

‘
Ar feadh bomaite, cheap mé go raibh deire liom
(I thought for a moment I was a gonner).
Buíochas le Dia táim beo fós
(Praise to God I'm still alive). My quest for Hy Brasil was not successful in this instance but it is not over yet—in fact it may be only beginning. That reptile was not my friend Manannan—to me he looked more like the devil from hell. I'm lucky he didn't take me with him to wherever he belongs.'

Sodden and downcast, Peadar was drawn back on board. His mates tried to console him, but to no avail.

‘Amn't I the stupid
amadán
(fool), to think I had discovered the mysterious island. It's an example of how fishermen, who related their experiences in the past, were deceived.'

‘Don't blame yourself, Pedro,' Jan said by way of consolation, ‘you were very brave—not many would have acted as you did. There will be other days and other opportunities.'

The others were not so reassuring. ‘Him and his bloody island, he's cuckoo,' Alpho remarked sarcastically. ‘He'll be the death of us all yet.'

Weeks passed uneventfully with long periods of calm and fluctuating temperatures. Apart from routine servicing of the scientific officers' requirements, ferrying them to their allotted destinations, supervising ancillary equipment while the divers were under water, and carrying samples on board, the crew had a minimum of chores to perform. For relaxation they played blackjack and poker, or entertained one another with singing in their native tongues. Peadar, not to be outdone, contributed with renderings of The Queen of Connamara, and Hy Brasil, the Isle of the Blest. Leaning on the rail in off-duty hours or when standing watch, he kept his eyes peeled for unusual species of birds, reptiles, and marine life that crossed the ship's path. On night-time watch, he gazed entranced at a phosphorescent glow that lit the surface of the sea for miles on end.

‘I haven't noticed Mongán, my sea horse friend,' he mused, ‘but I'm confident he's not too far away.'

Manning an early watch in the Sargasso Sea, Peadar saw what looked like an expanse of shoreline on the horizon where no land was charted. Training his telescope to obtain a better view, he observed how the place was infiltrated by marine creatures—scorpions, giant frogs, and eels, disporting in verdant herbage. A naked figure with waist-length red hair lifted its head in his direction before slipping into the water.

‘
Glóir do Dhia
(praise to God), am I seeing right?' he asked himself, as he rubbed his eyes and took a closer look. There was no doubt about what he had seen.

‘Land to starboard,' he called out as he sounded the emergency bell. The captain and mate rushed on deck—he pointed them in the direction of what he had observed.

‘Pedro, did you have to disturb our sleep for this? What you are looking at is no more than an accumulation of gulf weed that occurs regularly in these waters. It floats like a carpet on the surface of the sea and is of no danger to shipping.'

‘Sorry, captain—it's the first time I encountered such a phenomenon—I shouldn't have disturbed you,' Peadar said by way of apology.

‘You don't have to apologise. You did what was correct in the circumstances. It is the duty of the watch to report anything out of the ordinary. Good work, Pedro; I commend your alertness.'

‘A floating mass of sea weed!' he mused after the others had retired. ‘I thought I had discovered an unknown land. In my excitement, it looked so full of life, I was deluded into thinking it might be Hy Brasil. To crown it all, I believe I saw a mermaid. The captain says it poses no danger to shipping—I wonder if he would mind navigating nearer to the clump so that I can get a better look! He might even allow me to land on it'

With the captain's permission, using the dinghy for transport, Peadar landed on the expanse of weed. It was soft and yielding, but firm underfoot. Walking through the herbage, he found burrows and tunnels of varying dimensions where marine species appeared to have their lairs. One tunnel, much larger than the rest, was surely that of a monster of some sort. Remembering his earlier encounter with the creature he mistook for an island, Peadar didn't delay for long.

‘A pity I didn't get to meet the mermaid,' he thought to himself, as he returned to ship.

‘Well, Pedro, are you satisfied now that your elusive island doesn't exist?' the Greek scoffed. ‘What would we have done if that bloody monster attacked our ship a while back? There'd be nobody left to tell the tale. When you go back to Ireland you'll be able to add to the story of sightings of the island that proved negative.'

‘I don't acknowledge defeat yet,' Peadar replied, ‘we have another month or two left on this voyage. Anything can happen still.'

Two days later, while Jan, the Basque, stood watch, he called to Peadar. ‘Come quickly, Pedro, and take a look. Do you see what I see?'

Peadar rushed to the rail from where he saw a creature heading at speed in the direction of the ship. Its head and neck, clearly visible above the water, resembled those of a giant conger eel. Travelling in a straight line at immense speed, it made no sound, nor created any waves in its wake as it passed close to the ship en route to the mass of gulf weed that Peadar had recently vacated. A basking shark that obstructed its passage was caught in the reptile's jaws—cries of anguish mingled with the sounds of crushing bones as the creature disappeared into its lair.

‘Wow,' Jan uttered in astonishment, ‘that was some baby. What do you make of it, Pedro?'

‘By all appearances, it is lord of the ocean around here,' Peadar replied. ‘If I am not mistaken, it is a huge marine serpent or sea horse as fishermen call it. I've heard it mentioned in fables in the same context as the mythical island that I am endeavouring to find. Perhaps they are associated. A similar creature took me in tow when I was shipwrecked many years ago. Only for it I would have been lost in the storm.'

During days that followed, the reptile was seen by all of the ship's staff. Some remarked that when Peadar stood at the rail, the serpent appeared from under the sea and paused, facing his direction, a flowing mane visible along its spine.

‘Pedro, this thing is trying to hypnotise you,' Alpho said. ‘You should be careful not to allow yourself to fall under its spell.'

‘I have no fear of it,' Peadar told him. ‘That is Mongán, son of Manannan Mac Lir, in the form of a sea horse; he is the friend who came to me in my dream when I was lost at sea. He told me I was destined to survive; that I would be the one to find the lost island of Hy Brasil. I believe he is trying to communicate with me now—perhaps he has a message to impart, and wants me to follow him.'

‘I'd rather it was you than me,' Alpho retorted.

‘Captain, with your permission, I would like to pursue this creature and see where it takes me. If you will be good enough to have me set down on the pad of gulf weed I will go along with it from there. I don't know where the trail will lead, or whether I will return from the encounter but, having arrived at this stage of my search, I am convinced I should go on. I have here a letter addressed to my good friend and fishing partner, Máirtín O Neachtan, of the island of Aran, Ireland. If by mischance, I do not come back on board before you leave these waters, I would ask you to forward the letter for me.'

‘Slán—beannacht oraibh go léir
(farewell—a blessing on you all),' Peadar waved as, ferried in the dinghy by Jan, he stepped onto the mass of tall herbage and disappeared from view.