Wednesday, September 25, 2024

And yea, I wept for Slyne Head

 

The closest photo I could get of the two wonderful lighthouses at Slyne Head, taken from the beach near the Golf Course Club House 

Have you visited every lighthouse in Ireland? That's a question I, and I suspect many of you, have been asked. Depending on my mood, I will either give the short answer (all except one) or the more detailed answer (depends what you mean by 'visited.' Some I've only seen from a distance but still was able to get photographs of. When I save up enough for the helicopter ...)
A recent week in Connemara gave me an opportunity to get a little bit more up close and personal with Slyne Head than my previous attempt, thirteen years ago. Obviously, with the lighthouses being on the furthest small island off the end of the headland, there would be no hugging, but I'd get a decent view and I could also check out the pier that the boat contractor (the King family) left from at Slackport for over 100 years prior the the helicopter era.


Google Maps showed the road petering out about a kilometer before the end of the headland but it gave clear directions to the spot, though with the caveat of 'restricted access.' I couldn't find anywhere that indicated where exactly on the indented headland lay the pier, so that was another worry, particularly as my wife was coming along and, for some reason, likes to know exactly where she's going at all times.
We stopped at Bunowen to walk the beach and then had a coffee in the smokehouse. I asked the girl serving what was the best way to get there. Oh, its very easy, she said, just go around the pier and keep going till you reach the lighthouses. That's how we always go, anyway. Then, looking at my blank face, she added, but you need a boat, of course.
After another hour walking the highly impressive but boringly-named Connemara Bay Beach (from where I took the photo at the top of the page) we headed towards the end of the road. Negotiating the caravan park, we came across the same five-barred gate that we had encountered in 2011. Absolutely no entry. Trespassers will be prosecuted. This is Private Land. Beware of the Bull.


I'm not ashamed to say I baulked at the ferocity of the language. If I had been on my own, I may have ditched the car and continued on foot with my red cape. Truth is, I'll never know. My wife was having none of it. We turned around.
Its very like the Old Head of Kinsale in that lighthouse aficionados have to be content with distant views of our maritime heritage. Wicklow Head too, by all accounts, seems to be at the mercy of a local farmer. Though at least at these two latter lights, access is provided on certain days throughout the year. 
Bill Long in Bright Light White Water repeated a great story by A.D.H Martin in Beam 9.2, describing the odyssey undertaken by the keepers when travelling to Slyne Head. Sadly, it was not a journey I was destined to replicate.






The M1 (photo Jonathan Wilkins cc by sa 2.0)

Nor indeed was I destined to see the Slackport landing slip, so here are photographs of what I missed.


I wrote about this photograph before. See here
(Photograph copyright Pauline Mickelsen)


Relief day at Slackport. Keeper Eugene Fortune is standing far right. (Copyright estate of Eileen Kates, used by permission.) Eugene was at Slyne Head from August 1928 to April 1933.


And finally, just for me to wallow in extreme self-pity, a photo from Slyne Head itself. From the dress, I'd guess first decade of the twentieth century. Keeper John O'Brien (108)  - back left and disgracefully hatless - would have been 31 in 1900 and I'd say he's in his thirties here, though I could be hopelessly wrong. Photo courtesy John's grandson, former keeper and extremely talented artist Ciarán O’Bríaín


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