Pete's Irish Lighthouses

  According to one definition of an island, there are 281 of the little buggers around the coast of Ireland, which can be split up into three categories - those that have a resident population; those that have never had a population; and those that once had a population but now have one no longer. To me, all islands are magical places, each with their own distinct identity, and I would love to be an islander now, leaning on the pier rail and telling tall tales to the tourists that visit. The saddest islands are the ones whose resident population has left - some of the Blaskets, Scattery, several islands at the mouth of the Fergus, many islands in Clew Bay, the Inishkeas, Inishmurray, Gola, Inishsirrer and Inishtrahull, to name but a few. The latter, Inishtrahull, Ireland's most northerly island, has always fascinated me and, visiting for the first time last year, dispels the myth that you should never meet your heroes. It is an incredible island that changes with the weather and th...

Galley Head light c.1906 This poem, by an Irish  emigr é,  was sent by the author's daughter, Eileen McGowan, to the Museum of the O'Connell Schools in North Richmond Street, many, many years ago, accompanied by a note that said:  We were living at 194, Richmond Terrace, Staten Island, at the time this poem was written, so it is safe to say it was one of Papa's last compositions. We moved to St. George in 1902 and Papa was waked there in 1915. He was forever fascinated by the way the Robbin's Reef lighthouse and the Statue of Liberty light blinked and shone into his bedroom window. Our home was on the Shore Road and we faced the waters of Kill von Kull Straights and the New York Bay. Lying in his bed, he could easily see the lighthouse and Statue, just as though they were in his own front yard. The first Fastnet My Lighthouse Where I grew up on Ardagh’s Heights, I’d see the bright, revolving lights Of Fastnet Rock and Galley Head That round about their brilliance shed T...

  There are times, when researching local maritime history, when you come across a seemingly innocuous building, or an old slipway, or a weir and it spirals out of all control, opening up avenues that you'd love to have the time to pursue.  The iconic Red Hut on the Newry River (aka the Clanrye River) is a perfect example. Basically its just a corrugated iron shed, painted an unusual rusty colour almost on the border between county Down and county Louth, the Republic and the North of Ireland, the EU and the UK. As far as I can see, it has no protected status at all. Back in the 1830s, the Newry Navigation Company, eager to get decent sized ships up to Newry and beyond, were keen to enlarge the Newry Ship Canal, a three-and-a-half mile stretch of water that linked Newry to Carlingford Lough. The canal stopped short of the lough itself with a small portion uncanalised (if that's a word) around Narrow Water. In order to maintain this small stretch, the river was dredged and the m...