‘Nectar of the Angels’ and a walk on Ballybunion beach to celebrate Father’s Day

A Father’s Day greeting on Ballybunion Beach this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

Today is both Midsummer’s Day and Father’s Day.

Despite it being Midsummer’s Day, the summer sunshine gave way to rain in Askeaton for most of this weekend.

I remember a Midsummer’s evening in Cambridge some years ago, watching Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in the gardens of Saint John’s College, and the lines: ‘So quick bright things come to confusion,’ when Lysander speaks to Hermia of the fragility of happiness.

Or Hermia’s words to Lysander: ‘Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.’

I woke this morning to Father’s Day presents of a bottle of Masi Campo Fiorin and a bottle of Cockburn’s Special Reserve Port.

Later, after celebrating the Eucharist in the Rectory, as the clouds opened yet again, two of us went to ring the bell in the Templar Tower at Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton.

The North Beach at Ballybunion in Midsummer sunshine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

It might have been an afternoon for watching old moves on the television. But the sun came out again at noon, and two of us headed west to Beale Strand to enjoy a walk on the beach, on clear white sands with blue skies above, looking out at the place where the Shannon Estuary flows into the Atlantic.

As the skies brightened and the lingering clouds began to break up, we decided to continue heading west to Ballybunion.

Although the North Beach, below the cliffs at Ballybunion, has lost its Blue Flag, it was sparking in the afternoon summer sunshine. Below, as we walked down the path to the beach, the Railway Bar in Ballybunion had left ‘A Happy Father’s Day’ greeting in the sand. The pubs are not open yet, but they know how to leave their mark.

Despite the red flags, some surfers were taking the risk to enjoy the high Atlantic waves.

Daroka, my favourite restaurant in Ballybunion, closed last autumn. It is sorely missed, and so we had our coffee in the car park opposite Daroka. But, above the South Beach, which still has its Blue Flag, there are many inviting restaurants, waiting to be explored and enjoyed when this lockdown ends.

A colourful terrace of houses and restaurants in Ballybunion above the South Beach in this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

This evening, to celebrate Father’s Day, I hope to share that bottle of Masi Campofiorin.

Campofiorin, the prototype for a new category of wines made with semi-dried grapes, was born in 1964 in the gentle hills of Verona as the result of an inspired technical experiment: refermentation of the best Veronese wine made of freshly-picked grapes on the lees of Amarone. For many decades now, it has been a benchmark for its territory of origin on the international stage.

The label on Campofiorin bears the motto: Nectar Angelorum Hominibus, ‘Nectar of the Angels for Human.’ I should enjoy that later this evening.

Golden sanda at Beale Beach this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

‘All the day long … until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes’

Walking by the River Deel at the bridge and the castle in Askeaton on Thursday evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

Daffodils are already beginning to show signs of promise in this part of West Limerick, and the evenings are beginning to lengthen. The mornings are still dark, and sunrise in Askeaton is not until 8:41 this morning [11 January 2019]. But sunset is at 16:43, which is more than eight hours of daylight today.

We sometimes jest in Ireland at this time of the year, ‘There’s a grand stretch in the evening now.’

Even after sunset, there is a brightness in the skies, and the birdsong intensifies at dusk, as if to hail the lengthening days with welcoming notes of joy.

I may not get out for an early morning walk before sunrise this morning. But it was still bright when I went for a walk late yesterday afternoon by the banks of the River Deel, along past the swimming pool and the friary ruins and out to the bend on the river at Gurt where Desmond Rowing club will soon resume its evening activities and where the Deel flows out into the Shannon estuary.

The brighter weather allowed brisk walks earlier this week on the beaches at Beale and Ballybunion in north Kerry, at the harbour in Foynes and by the River Maigue in Adare.

Over the last few days, friends have been sending me photographs of heavy snow throughout Greece, including Crete, Athens, Thessaloniki and Mount Athos, so I am not being too complacent about the weather in this part of Ireland at the moment.

Although I have planned visits within the next few weeks to Prague and Porto, and to Crete for Greek Easter at the end of April, I recall all too easily how the ‘Beast from the East’ put a stop to my plans to visit Warsaw last year.

Lent and Easter are late this year, with Ash Wednesday on 6 March and Easter Day on Easter Day on 21 April in the West and on 28 April in the East.

But there is still a hint of Spring in the air, and while there is there is a spring in my step and I am enjoying the opportunities the lengthening days present for my walks by the rivers and beaches of west Limerick and north Kerry.

Walking by the River Deel at Gurt on Thursday evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

There is a well-known prayer by Cardinal John Henry Newman that has been adapted in prayer books throughout the Anglican Communion:

Support us, O Lord,
all the day long of this troublous life,
until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes,
the busy world is hushed,
the fever of life is over
and our work is done.
Then, Lord, in your mercy grant us a safe lodging,
a holy rest, and peace at the last;
through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Blue skies and blue seas at Beale Strand earlier this week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The sun sets on 2018 at the beaches in Beale, Ballybunion and Bray

Sunset on New Year’s Eve cast interesting lights on Bray Head and on the waves and shoreline at Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018; click on images for full-screen views)

There is no point in making New Year’s resolutions and then finding at the end of the year you have forgotten them.

At the end of 2017, I wrote about the benefits of learning a new language, mused about the prospect of swimming regularly at the pool in Askeaton, and told myself that my New Year’s resolution ought to be to get my daily walking average that year of 3.7 km up to 4 km in 2018.

Sadly, I never got around to learning that new language, I never did anything about swimming regularly in the pool in Askeaton, and my daily walking average last year stayed at 3.7 km up to 4 km in 2018. But I did keep a promise to myself at the start of 2018 that I would continue my regular walks on beaches and by rivers, that I would visit at least one new place each month.

The year came to a close with walks on the beaches in Bray, Co Wicklow, late yesterday afternoon [31 December 2018] and at Beale Strand and in Ballybunion, Co Kerry, on Sunday afternoon [30 December 2018].

It had been five or six months since I was in Bray for a walk on the beach, but Bray was as busy on New Year’s Eve as it might have been on a cold summer’s Sunday afternoon. The low setting sun in the west, behind the Dart line, was casting its rays onto the sea waters to the east, with unusual lights on the waves and on Bray Head, while two rowers worked earnestly on a lone boat near the horizon.

As the sun continued to set beyond view, two of us went to Carpe Diem for a late lunch, to rekindle memories of good meals in Italy, and to explore their interesting array of wines.

On this occasion, lunch was accompanied by a glass of Albente from Campania. Albente is 100 per cent falanghina, an ancient variety known to the Romans, and grown on the chalky soils around Tufo. A short stint in stainless steel preserves the bright fruit, including delicately perfumed pear and citrus blossoms fill this voluminous wine, lively with acidity yet steady with pear, almond, fig, light straw, subtle honeysuckle. Mediterranean spices cling to the finish.

There was a Turner-like quality to the views on Beale Strand on Sunday afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

On Beale Strand, between Tarbert and Ballybunion in north Kerry, a small family group was creating quite a stir on Sunday afternoon with children on scramblers – presents that were obviously not intended to bring peace to all at Christmas. I noticed that Kerry County Council also encourages drivers to park on the sand. The same attitude from Meath County Council has caused serious damage to the beach at Bettystown.

However, there was enough stretch of sand to go for a long walk on Beale Strand on Sunday afternoon, and in places there was a Turner-like quality to the views, with rustic countryside bathed in the winter sunlight, and small brooks flowing gently into the sea.

From Beale, we continued on to Ballybunion for lunch in Daroka before a walk along the cliff edges above the beach. The extended weekend leading into New Year’s Eve seemed to have attracted a large number of families to Ballybunion on Sunday afternoon, despite the rain and even though all the mobile home parks seemed to be closed.

A cliff-walk above the beach in Ballybunion on Sunday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018; click image for full-screen view)

In Bray on Monday afternoon, the sun was setting on 2018. Perhaps I should not make too many promises to myself for 2019 … apart from continuing my walks along beaches and by river banks, and trying to visit one new place each month. On second thoughts, though … it would be nice to be able to speak Italian and rewarding to be able to read Dante in the original.

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
…

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree

Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.

— TS Eliot, Little Gidding

Happy New Year!

‘Not known, because not looked for / But heard, half-heard, in the stillness / Between two waves of the sea’ (TS Eliot, ‘Little Gidding’) … a mid-winter scene at Beale Strand on Sunday afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Has Saint Swithun’s Day brought an end to this year’s summer?

The mists and rain at Beale Beach on the afternoon of Saint Swithun’s Day (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Patrick Comerford

When major feast days of saints fall on a Sunday I prefer to celebrate them rather than transfer them to a day in the week that follows, unless the Sunday itself is a major feast day itself.

Sundays in Ordinary Time offer appropriate opportunities to celebrate the saints whose feast days fall on Sundays. For example, Sunday next [22 July 2018] is both the Eighth Sunday after Trinity and the feast of Saint Mary Magdalene. It is going to provide an opportunity to remember an apostolic saint who is often misinterpreted and whose apostolic ministry is often side-lined too, and an opportunity to discuss how women in the infamous Magdalene laundries were misunderstood in the past by the Church and then marginalised and victimised.

But, while Saint Swithun may be a very Anglican saint, he is not named in the Calendar of the Church of Ireland, and his feast day yesterday may have arrived with a mixture of welcomes.

Farmers in this group of parishes must welcome the rain that has been pouring down now over 24 hours. But some of us may wonder if this is truly a taste of next 40 days, and whether the best summer we have had for about 40 years came to an end this weekend.

There is a superstition that rain on Saint Swithun’s day means rain for 40 days. The first evidence for the weather prophecy seems to be a 13th or 14th-century entry in a manuscript in Emmanuel College, Cambridge.

Saint Swithun is scarcely mentioned in any document of his own time. His death is entered in the Canterbury manuscript of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle under the year 861. However, his feast day recalls not the date of his death but the day his relics were transferred in 971 from the churchyard to Winchester Cathedral, after reports of miracles, by Bishop Aethelwold.

After that, Saint Swithun’s cult spread widely, and his name displaced those of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in the dedication of Winchester Cathedral.

There are many churches dedicated to Saint Swithun throughout the south of England, especially in Hampshire and in Norway, Stavanger Cathedral is dedicated to him. The only church in the Diocese of Lichfield that he gives his name to is Saint Swithun’s Church in Cheswardine, a rural village in north-east Shropshire, close to the border with Staffordshire and about 8 miles north of Newport.

Saint Swithun’s Church overlooks Cheswardine from the hill at the top of the village. This is at least the third church on this site, and was rebuilt in 1887-1889 under the direction of the architect John Loughborough Pearson, who died before the work was completed.

Saint Swithun’s importance in his day as Bishop of Winchester is overshadowed by his reputation for posthumous miracle-working. According to tradition, if it rains on Saint Swithun’s Bridge in Winchester) on his feast day, it will continue for 40 days.

The traditional rhyme or proverb says:

Saint Swithun’s day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
Saint Swithun’s day if thou be fair
For forty days ’twill rain nae mare.

The legend may have been known in the 12th century, although some historians suggest the legend derives from a tremendous downpour of rain on Saint Swithun’s Day in 1315.

Wine glasses in a dresser in Daroka in Ballybunion, Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

It certainly poured yesterday, and after Morning Prayer in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, and the Parish Eucharist in Saint Brendan’s Church, Tarbert, two of us headed west to Ballybunion, planning a walk on the beach and a cosy Sunday lunch in Daroka on Cliff Road.

However, the Saint Swithun’s Day rain continued to pour down, the beach at Ballybunion was shrouded in rain as we looked out the bay window upstairs in the restaurant, and our plans for a walk on the beach were cancelled.

We walked back though the streets of Ballybunion, where holiday-makers were huddled in the doors of shops and pubs. No-one was even braving the opportunity to sit out in what boasts to be the ‘World’s Smallest Beer Garden.’

On the way back, we stopped briefly at Beale Beach. The tide was out, but the mists were down, and we were back in the Rectory in Askeaton in time to watch France beat Croatia in the World Cup Final.

The ‘World’s Smallest Beer Garden’ in Ballybunion, Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Easter hopes on the shore at Ballybunion and Beale Beach

A Sunday afternoon on the beach at Ballyunion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018; click on image for full-screen view)

Patrick Comerford

My Holy Week, Good Friday and Easter experiences in Thessaloniki prepared me to return to parish ministry with a new energy.

Over the past few days, the Easter Vestries for three of the four churches in the group of parishes have met in recent days, and the fourth meets this evening. Work parties have continued to attend to the rectory gardens, I have been to Adare to preach at the Mothers’ Union Lady Service, celebrated the Feast of the Annunciation at the Eucharist in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, there were services and sermons in Askeaton and Tarbert yesterday, and there was a posting to finalise for the diocesan training programme for clergy and readers.

Later this morning, I am in the school in Rathkeale, and the coming week promises to be as busy as the past week.

But in between, two of us managed to take some quiet time on Sunday afternoon, and went for a walk on the beach in Ballybunion. The tide was just turning and about to come in, but the sand was a beautiful combi nation of sliver, yellow and gold, and the sun was making efforts to break through the grey clouds.

Only a week previously, we had been sitting at the sea wall at the harbour in Thessaloniki, waiting for friends to join us for dinner, as we watched the tide lapping gently against the sea wall as we looked across the bay towards the White Tower.

Being on the sand by the waves evoked some of those Resurrection stories in the Gospels in which the Risen Christ meets the Disciples on the shore after they have been fishing and shares a meal with them.

Reflections on the sands at Ballyunion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018; click on image for full-screen view)

We had climbed back up to the ruins of Ballybunion Castle on the cliff top before the rain began to fall, and we adjourned to Daroka for a delightful lunch.

On the way back, we stopped at Beale Beach for another breath-taking walk by the sea at the mouth of the Shannon. By now the tide was in, the waves were breaking against the pebbles on the shoreline, and gushing again as they pulled against the stones as they rushed out.

Out in the estuary, three ships were making their way out to the Atlantic.

Easter is a time to set our eyes on new hopes, on new horizons, on the promise of new futures.

A full tide at the beach at Ballyunion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018; click on image for full-screen view)

A reminder of sunsets in the Mediterranean in an old Kerry church ruin

Sunset seen through the west wall of Kilconly Church in Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Patrick Comerford

Two of us went for a brisk walk on the two beaches in Ballybunion, Co Kerry, after lunch on Sunday afternoon [25 February 2018] in Daroka, where we had a table upstairs looking out at the ruins of Ballybunion Castle and the cliffs on the Atlantic coast.

Although snow is threatening later this week, it still felt like early spring in the afternoon, with a slow setting sun that was glistening on the calm waves and the sand.

Late afternoon sunshine on the beach at Ballybunion on Sunday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

The sun was still setting on our way back to Askeaton, when we stopped to look at the church ruins and graveyard in Kilconly, halfway between Ballybunion and Tarbert, and close to Beal Beach.

The church ruins and churchyard nestle in a small field off the Wild Atlantic Way, with a babbling brook running through the sheltered creek as it makes its way to the Shannon estuary and the sea.

The name of Kilconly is linked to Saint Conla, who is said to have built the earliest church at this place. The ruins are said to date from the 12th to 15th century, but it is difficult to know when the church fell into disuse.

The parish is in the Diocese of Ardfert and Aghadoe, and until the mid-19th century the Treasurers of Ardfert were also Rectors and Vicars of Kilconly. They included Cecil Pery, 1st Lord Glentworth, who was Treasurer (1758-1780) and later became Bishop of Killala and then Bishop of Limerick.

The church ruins at Kilconly (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

However, the parish was too small to afford a resident rector or curate, and pastoral care in the parish was normally in provided by the curate of Aghavallin in Ballylongford, who acted as the curate of Kilconly. The tithes amount to £83.1.5¾ and there are two glebes, amounting to about four acres.

The appointment of a treasurer of Ardfert ceased in 1845. But the church may have fallen into disuse long before that, perhaps even before the Reformation. Today, Kilconly – like neighbouring Ballybunion – is part of the larger Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Paerishes.

Inside the ruins of the church, I caught a glimpse of the sun in the western sky through the west wall. All was silent around me as the sun stayed in place, balancing like a balloon in the sky.

Near the shore are the ruins of the ancient castles of Beale and Lick. Beale Castle belonged to FitzMaurice family, Barons of Kerry and later Earls of Kerry. The fortifications of the castle were demolished around 1600 by Patrick FitzMaurice (1551-1600), the 17th Lord Kerry. That year, Maurice Stack, an officer in Queen Elizabeth’s army, was invited to the castle by Lady Kerry and murdered by her attendants.

In 1633, Beale Castle was named as Beau-lieu in the Pacata Hibernia. The Civil Survey (1654-1658) refers to ‘an old stump of a castle called Licke.’

Litter House, once the home of the Wren family, originally belonged to the Blennerhassett family and passed by marriage to the Wren family.

A seastack near the ruins of Lick Castle is known locally as the ‘Devil’s Castle’ or Caislean an Deamhain.

Kilocnly also has interesting links with Saint John’s Church in Ballybunion, which was built with funds donated by Mrs Mary Young in memory of her husband, John Young. Mary Young was born Mary O’Malley in Kilconly and met her husband John Young, a tea planter, while she was working in Kilkee, Co Clare.

When John Young died, Mary Young inherited his considerable wealth. She used much of her wealth to finance building the convent in Ballybunion in 1887, Ballybunion House, and Saint John’s Church, which cost £8,500.

From Kilconly, we drove on to Beale Beach, with in the west constantly behind us.

As we made our way down to Beale Beach, we caught a last glimpse of the setting sun, as it balanced in the sky, like a Mediterranean sunset. Perhaps it was a promise of summer sunshine in Greece later year; perhaps it was a warning of the coming snow and freezing temperatures later this week.

A Mediterranean-like sunset near Beal Beach on Sunday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Is Beale Strand one of the most dangerous beaches in Europe?

A stroll along the sands at Beale Strand, with shipping in the Shannon Estuary in the distance (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017; click on image for full-screen view)

Patrick Comerford

At what point does the Shannon Estuary become the Atlantic Ocean?

At the weekend, two of us took to the Wild Atlantic Way and headed west from Tarbert along the southern bank of the Shannon Estuary and out through Ballylongford for the coast.

Along the way, we stopped at Beale Strand, also known as Beal Beach, at the mouth of the Shannon.

This is a sandy and rocky beach that stretches for more than 3 km around the ‘dog-leg’ of the Shannon Estuary. An extensive and high dune landscape dominates the bend in the estuary and the beach provides opportunities for long walks around the headland.

But we were aware of the need for caution and discretion. Ten years ago, when a 20-year-old man and his eight-year-old brother and sister were rescued on the beach, it was said they had cheated this was described as one of Europe’s most dangerous beaches.

The sand at Beale Strand stretches for 3 km, making wonderful long walks (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017; click on image for full-screen view)

Although the long stretch of sand stretch for more than 3 km makes a wonderful long walk, there are extremely fast currents in this area that make swimming dangerous.

The shore between Beale and Fenit lay under a tropical sea 345 million years ago, and fossils of marine creatures like sea lilies are buried in the rocks.

I am told that at low tide a few wooden ribs stick out of the sand at the western end of the beach, a reminder of stormier times.

Beale Bar was one of the many hazards facing shipping entering the Shannon from the Atlantic at this point. If the tide was too low, ships could be grounded on the sandy, offshore shoals.

On a stormy night on 30 November 1834, the Limerick-built brig, The Thetis sought shelter in the bay having crossed the Atlantic from Quebec. The ship had a cargo of pine timber. Despite the valiant efforts of its captain, Captain Younghusband, the ship was driven onto the shores of Beale Strand, two of the masts broke, and nine sailors drowned that night.

The remaining crew members swam ashore. They were welcomed into the homes of local people in this part of north Kerry locals. Over time, the bodies of those who drowned that night were washed ashore and buried at Lissadooneen Fort.

When a salvage operation was carried out on the wrecked Thetis, it was discovered that the ship was carrying a cargo of contraband tobacco. The surviving crew members were arrested and tried in Tralee for smuggling.

When a salvage operation was carried out by the Garryowen, a stash of contraband tobacco was discovered deep in one of the hold of The Thetis. The surviving crew members were arrested, marched back along the coastline to Tralee, passing the wreck of their ship on the way, and charged with smuggling.

The sands at Beale Strand, where ‘The Thetis’ was wrecked almost 200 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017; click on image for full-screen view)

Another cross-Atlantic journey also drew attention to the dangers around Beale Strand 90 years ago in 1927. That year, the Irish pioneering aviator, Captain James Fitzmaurice made his first attempt to fly the Atlantic. The Princess Xenia, a Fokker Vila aircraft, was piloted by Captain Robert Henry MacIntosh, and Fitzmaurice was the co-pilot with Maurice W Piercey.

They were backed financially by an American millionaire William Bateman Leeds and his co-financier Captain Anthony Joynson-Wreford.

Despite warnings from weather forecasters, the crew took off from Baldonnel on 16 September 1927. But the turbulent weather got worse off the Galway coast, until visibility was virtually nil. They turned their plane back and landed at Beale Strand near Ballybunion. Their 5½-hour flight only took them 300 miles off the Irish coast.

McIntosh never got another chance to try again. Fitzmaurice on the other hand did not have long to wait before he would head west once more.

Today, the wreck of the Thetis can be seen just off the car park in Beale, about 250 meatres from Ceann Daoithe. All that remains are a few broken wooden ribs of the ship buried in the sands of time … but not visible during Saturday afternoon’s walk on the beach.

From Beale, we made our way by road, still a much safer mode of travel along this stretch of the Wild Atlantic Way.

In Ballybunion, we walked along the cliff edge above Ladies Bunch. Alongside the Blue Flag, a Red Flag was flying, warning visitors about the dangers of the water this weekend.

We opted for a stroll through the town, doubles espressos in the Coast Café and a visit to the Pugin-style Saint John’s Church before returning along the Wild Atlantic Way through Ballylongford and Tarbert to Askeaton.

A wak along the cliffs above the sands of Ladies’ Beach in Ballybunion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017; click on image for full-screen view)