One Man’s Journey Around Ireland With A Sea Kayak
Chris Duff has always been a man more at residence in the water than out of it. He was working with the US Navy in Holy Loch, Scotland in 1982 when his enlistment period ended. Faced with the difficult choice of whether or not to re-enlist, he opted to return to civilian life. Quickly the dream of an Irish journey would be born.
Chris tried a number of trades, at one point working in upstate New York as a butcher’s assistant to an previous couple from Ireland. When he asked where the old man was from he was informed the Aran Islands. For these of us who love Eire it brings delightful visions of stone cottages and late night time music sessions into our heads. The couple pulled a coffee desk guide off a shelf and opened it to some striking photos of the Aran Islands and its folks – tough seas, steep rock cliffs, stone homes, pores and skin-lined boats referred to as currachs stone island jacket buy and rugged, wind-worn faces. Our man Chris was captivated by the wild sea surrounding that lovely island and a seed was sown in his mind that will grow and provides start to a life-altering Celtic adventure fourteen years later.
Chris’s determination to kayak round Ireland was not the first such journey for him. He embodies the spirit of journey that many of us solely dream about. He had kayaked across the US and Canada – twelve months and 8000 miles. He had also circumnavigated Nice Britain – five and a half months and 3000 miles. Ireland, nevertheless, with its wild seas and unprotected west coast, with highly effective waves assembly the first landfall of Europe, would be a special story fully.
The starting point is Dublin’s famous River Liffey on June 1, 1996. The sacred vessel of the journey, an eighteen foot sea kayak loaded with one hundred pounds of meals, water and camping gear, a journal wrapped in plastic for secure holding and a map of the Irish coast fastidiously splash-guarded on the helm. As Chris begins his travels he shares with us his blessings – ten years of carpentry work had allowed him to save lots of sufficient to take this precious time off for this journey, to “take the time and just be quiet for a number of months.” Few of us have ever know that luxury however he has worked exhausting for it and appreciates it; fortunate for us he shares each second so we will enjoy it vicariously by means of his phrases.
What struck me most about Chris’s writing is the mystery and wonder with which he regards the beauties of nature round him, notably the west coast of Eire, the place stark cliffs are pounded by robust seas and winds whip wildly. At times he kayaks into sea caves alongside the coast and paddles in the semi-darkness and one feels his reverence for what nature has wrought in our panorama.
Eire’s coastline is solely mad with chicken life, specific the islands off the coast. At one level a big-winged fulmar watches him curiously, floating within the air and staring him within the eyes. Chris says to him “You’re so beautiful my buddy. What have you ever seen and the place have you been as we speak ” There’s a timelessness in the eyes of such a chook, that can make us really feel our insignificance in the face of Mother Nature. Chris visits islands wealthy with chook colonies – cormorants, puffins, shags, fulmars, kittiwakes, guillemots, gannets, razorbills – by the thousands. They are all very tolerant of his presence and simply accept him rather than flying right into a frenzy at his strategy as one would expect. It’s a chicken watcher’s paradise.
Along the journey, Chris visits numerous islands – some with names that sound acquainted like Skellig Michael and Clare Island, others which can be tiny dots on the ocean panorama. In foul weather he sits out the wind and waves, peering from his tent on the storm outside, waiting for a break within the weather. He takes us with him as he sleeps in a beehive hut or paddles beneath a waterfall close to Dingle Bay to take a chilly freshwater shower and even goes religiously pub hopping from session to session within the busy pub town of Dingle.
What is exceptional is that not like many with Irish ancestry, Chris Duff didn’t come to Eire to hunt his past. He needed to enjoy a challenging kayaking journey and be alone with the winds and the waves. The highly effective power of the Irish panorama and the Irish people, nonetheless, makes its mark upon him. He begins to really feel not only a way of belonging but a sense of marvel and of loss. As he walks through tangles of wildflowers on a deserted island, he comes throughout ruins of stone cottages and chapels and the history of the place pours forth to ensnare him because it has accomplished to so many others. He muses:
“Across the narrow waterway two stone home ruins stood bathed in the final rays of solar. The island, radiant in the evening mild, appeared as if it was an enchanted fairy tale land. Shadows of stone partitions divided green meadows, and the cap of rock that broke by way of at the top of the island seemed like a place the place fairies might dance…”
I found it a pleasure to travel the circumference of the Emerald Isle with a philosophizing “American canoeist.” His courage within the face of the wild waves of the west coast is mind-boggling to a land lubber like myself. At one level he lands safely on some distant shore solely to be greeted by a local emergency crew that was in search of him. Someone had noticed him “struggling” in the waves and thought he was in distress. In the meantime he had been having the time of his life happily battling the waves!
The names of the landmarks of his journey ring like a solid of famous actors with cameos in a blockbuster film – Mizen Head, Dursey Head, the Skelligs, Dingle Bay, the Blaskets, The River Shannon, Galway Bay, the Cliffs of Moher, the Aran Islands, Clare Island – and extra! The checklist goes on. It truly is a cast of outstanding characters and retains you guessing which one will stroll on stage subsequent.
When visiting the Blasket Islands, which have been abandoned reluctantly by the villagers within the 1950’s, Chris comments that in a kayak the paddler at all times sits going through forward. In the standard Irish currach, nonetheless, the oarsmen face the rear of the boat and watch their wake. This final view of their island should have been fairly painful for the villagers as they rowed additional and additional away from the ancestral home of their kin.
The people along the way in which are uniquely Irish. At any time when Chris emerges from the sea, seemingly out of nowhere, he is met with remarks of disbelief. “You’ve got come from Dublin in that ! I believe y’er mad.” The kindness to strangers has always been the hallmark of Irish hospitality; hundreds of years ago it was actually mandated by the Brehon laws of the land. It simply seems second nature to a generous people. The fishermen who casually hand him just a few lobster claws or some cleaned fish for his dinner, along with recommendation about his crossing. The housewife who makes him dinner and asks him to join the household by the hearth for a night of storytelling. The couple who rise at dawn to see him off on the next leg of his journey. The fellow stone island jacket buy kayaker in Galway who provides him a spot to remain and loosen up after a spell of unhealthy weather and helps carry his heavy kayak through the crowded streets of town. It is just sadly in the north of Ireland, the place the troubles have been nonetheless raging, where his knock at a door is met with suspicion and worry slightly than a smile and a warm welcome by the fireplace.
Eire is a revelation to our kayaker pal. He’s awed by the pure magnificence of windswept islands and cliff-lined coasts, drawn to the pleasant individuals, bewildered by the sheer volume of historical past bursting from the seams of the panorama and humbled by the mysterious sacredness he feels. He has a present for storytelling, for describing a scene all the way down to the last rays of the solar, that may nicely be proof of his Irish ancestry.
To those who’re faint of heart, there are scenes on this e-book which are really harrowing. Chris paddles over waves that will frighten the be-jaysus out of you and me and navigates round submerged rocks that might puncture his wee kayak and drown him. However reality be advised, he does finish his journey safely. Because the previous saying goes, he “lives to tell the tale.” So get pleasure from each beautiful and hair elevating second of it!