The Storyteller.

The Storyteller.

There’s turf on the fire

There’s tea in the pot

Sunday’s here again

It’s been a good week

And now is the time

To hear the tale’s again

So pull up a chair and sit awhile

The clock is striking three

Tune in to WRFM

And join the Seanachái.

 

 

Welcome to my blog.

If you have any comments or requests for stories please leave them on here and I'll see what I can do.
I really appreciate any feedback and will try to respond as quickly as possible.

On behalf of myself and WRFM 98-2 I would like to thank you for taking the time to listen to my show and hope you enjoy it.

Join me on Sunday at 3-00pm until 4-00pm, pull up a chair and sit awhile.  You are never too old for a story.

Music Playlist for The Storyteller 15th September 2013

The Storyteller Play List for pre-record on Tuesday 10^th September 2013.

 

·       If You Want To Be Happy by Jimmy Soul.

·       Never Smile at a Crocodile Peter Pan Full song (MotherAtHeart youtube).

·       I will survive by Gloria Gaynor.

·       Wild Horses by Natasha Bedingfield.

·       Stuck on you by Lionel Richie.

·       Crazy Horses by The Osmands.

·       Bob the Kelpie by Don Spencer youtube.

·       The Unicorn Song by The Irish Rovers.

Petticoat Loose (Lucy).

My stories this week are of a watery theme and the first story concerns a rather unfortunate looking woman called Petticoat Loose.

The Legend of Petticoat Loose.

Petticoat's real name was Mary Hannigan who was born during the time of the hedge-schoolmasters in the early part of the nineteenth century. She was the only child of a well to do farming family and they lived in the townland of Colligan, which is not far from Clogheen in Tipperary.

 Mary was not the type of woman you could call feminine; she was as tough as nails, nearly six foot tall and built like the side of a barn. She was a strong as a horse and did the work of two men on her father’s farm without thinking twice about it. However, If there was one thing that Mary Hannigan was known far and wide for it was her dancing. Spinning and whirling around the dance floor, no man could match her.  That is except for one hefty lad, and his prowess led him into a marriage with Mary. A marriage closely followed by his early death.

How Mary came to be called Petticoat Lucy came about like this.

 There was a wedding in the neighbourhood with drinking and dancing well into the night and through to the early hours of the morning. Mary was able to drink as well as she could dance, and as she spun around in a drunken dance the buttons of her skirt caught onto a nail. The buttons burst open and her skirt fell to the ground to the great delight of the others in the room who laughed and jeered her.

 This is the incident that earned her the name of Petticoat Loose which became Petticoat Lucy over time. Not being one to take foul comments lightly there was soon fists flying in all directions as Mary landed many a clout on those who mocked her.

It was also said that Mary and her husband had difficulties with their herd of cattle and often added water to the milk to make it go further. There were rumours by some that when Mary's milk was added to tea it turned blue and some older locals whispered that she might be a witch.

Mary had been married a year when, one night as she and one of her servants were milking the cattle there came a cry of agony from a nearby field. The servant girl began to run towards the field to help whoever it was who seemed to be in trouble but she was soon stopped by a milking stool which hit her square on the back of the head knocking the poor girl out.

 When she came to Mary told her it was she who had thrown the stool and that it served her right and that in future she should learn to mind her own business. Mary’s husband was never seen again after that night. The locals in Colligan concluded among themselves that Mary’s lover, a local hedge-schoolmaster, had committed the murder. When asked of her husband’s whereabouts Mary would simply answer that he had gone away and that he would return someday. Nobody dare question her further for fear of her violent temper.

One night about one year later Mary went on a drinking bout in a local public house accompanied by some of the neighbouring workmen. After several pints she was challenged by one of the workmen to prove her drinking skills. After gladly accepting the offer, half a gallon of beer was placed before her. She drank it down with ease and was in the middle of gloating to the other workmen when suddenly she slumped forward onto the table, dead.

She died without a priest, which was an awful thing to happen back then. There was a big wake for Mary and the whole village turned up to pay their last respects but no priest was called, even for the burial.

Seven years passed and Petticoat Lucy was more or less forgotten about. Then one night there was a dance in Colligan, half way through the night, near midnight, a man went out to catch a breath of fresh air. When he went back into the dance hall he was as white as a sheet, with a shaking voice he told the others in the hall that he had seen Mary sitting on one of the benches in the yard. Everybody   was afraid to leave the dance hall until morning.

 After that night Mary was seen in many places around the area and most now believed that that she had become a witch. One night a man with his horse and cart was travelling down a dark country lane when he came upon Mary standing at the side of the road. The driver didn't want to stop for her, but she jumped aboard the cart anyway.

Once on the cart, she decided to punish the driver for his reluctance to stop for her, and she raised her left hand and declared,

"I have one ton in this hand!"

The horse slowed down a bit then, as though the cart was heavier, but he kept walking. Then the witch raised her other hand and announced,

"I've got one ton in this hand!"

The horse slowed a little more but continued on his journey; and the witch smiled and announced,

"I've got one ton in this leg!"

at which the horse began to strain very hard to pull the cart.

 "I've got one ton in the other leg!" then she said "I've got one ton in my belly!"

With the effort of trying to pull the enormous load, the horse fell down dead - and Petticoat Lucy ran away laughing. Soon it became common practice for people travelling at night to take some sort of protection with them mainly religious relics and hazel sticks.

Finally the people grew tired of living in fear of Petticoat Lucy and they called upon the parish priest to rid the county of Mary and her nightly visitations.

The priest set out that very night on a pony and trap accompanied by two men. After sometime they spotted her coming across a field, the priest asked her name and she replied

"I’m Petticoat Loose".

The priest then got off of the trap took out a bottle of Holy water and said

"I am going to banish you from this place forever! All the devils in hell can’t help you now! For all the cruel things you did during your life, especially getting a man to kill your husband. I shall send you to the far banks of the deepest lake in the Knockmealdown Mountains and you shall be condemned to empty it with a thimble!"

With those words and a splash of the holy water Mary vanished in a flash and she was never seen again.

 Many believe that she is still up there sitting on the far bank of Bay Lough with her thimble, vainly trying to empty the lake. Two weeks later the priest died, some say she had drained the life out of him. 

If you were ever to visit the lake itself you will be struck by the feeling of loneliness that surrounds the area. Very few people will swim in that lake now because of the fear that the spirit of the old witch might grab their legs, pull them under and keep them there forever.

Bay lough will be forever associated in legend with "Petticoat Loose", and in this area where she did so much harm, she is called the witch of the Knockmealdowns.

In keeping with many of the lake monsters that inhabit the lakes of Ireland it has been said that Petticoat Loose can assume the shape of half horse half human.

The Otter and The Dobhar chu.

Now following on the theme of water monsters here is a bit of folklore and a few stories about the:

Dobhar Chu. Irish Water Hound.

Although Irish folklore is littered with legendary tales of terrible water creatures there are few as scary as the Dobhar Chu (do-var coo). Considered by some to be the Irish equivalent of The Loch Ness monster the Dobhar Chu is a mythical creature that has lived in the Lakes of Ireland for thousands of years.

The name Dobhar Chu is Gaelic and translates to "water hound." The nickname for this creature — Irish Crocodile — may arise from legends about its huge and ferocious appetite and its speed in and out of the water. It’s thought to be about seven feet long and carnivorous. Some think it was an amphibious predator, half wolf, half fish that lived in Ireland’s lakes and rivers. It is known for its ferocious appetite and love of human flesh.

There are usually two of these creatures and when one is killed its mate will swim up from the depths of the lake and avenge the killing by pursuing its attacker, killing him and often eating him.  This happens because when the Dobhar Chu is about to die it gives off an eerie high pitched whistle to warn its mate.

There have been a number of accounts written over the years concerning encounters with the Dobhar Chu and one account is mentioned in a poem about a woman who was killed by the beast in the eighteenth century.

Roderick O’Flaherty, in his book, A Description of West Connaught wrote about a man’s encounter with what he called the Irish crocodile. The man was on the shore of Lough Mask when he saw the head of a beast swimming in the water. He thought it was an otter. The creature seemed to look at him. Swimming underwater it reached land and grabbed the man by his elbow and dragged him into the lake. The man took his knife from his pocket and stabbed it, which scared the animal away. It was about the size of a greyhound, had slimy black skin and appeared to be hairless.

Old people who know the lake believe that Irish crocodiles live there. They reminisced about a man who was walking with his dog, who encountered one. There was a struggle with the pair against the lake monster when the creature finally went away. When the waters receded after a long period of time, they found the beast’s corpse in a cave.

Another story concerns a couple who lived on the shores of Lough Mask

Grace Connolly was washing clothes at the edge of a lake when she was attacked by a Dobhar-Chu (the custom at the time was that a woman retains her maiden name after marriage).  Her husband, Terence Mcloughlan hearing her cries grabbed a spear he used for fishing and rushed to help. By the time he got to her, she was dead and the Dobhar-Chu was still there standing near her body.

Mcloughlin killed her attacker who screamed before it died, summoning its mate who rose up from the waters of the lake. Mcloughlan jumped on his horse to evade the beast but he soon realised that his horse couldn’t outrun it. He dismounted and ducked behind a wall. As the beast hurled over the wall, he killed it by driving his spear through its underbelly. There is a tombstone near Kinlough that bears a carved illustration of a large otter, impaled by a spear, held by a hand. The first name appears as Grace, but the last one is illegible due to the ravages of the weather. The date on the tombstone is 1722. So it would appear that the grave of Grace Connolly actually exists. If you wish to see it it’s located in Conwall cemetery in the townland of Drummans which is near to KinLough.

 Also and less well known, both the Dobhar Chu and Mcloughlin’s horse are buried in Co. Sligo, not far from Cashelgarron stone fort where they were both killed.

Another report was recorded by Miss Walkington in the 1896 edition of The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland. Miss Walkington described it as being ‘half-wolfdog and half-fish’. A few months afterward Mr. H. Chicester Hart responded to Miss Walkington’s letter. He said that he heard rumors about a gruesome creature called the Dobhar Chu which is said to be king of all lakes and father of all otters.

The creature is believed to live in many lakes around Ireland. Sraheens Lough, on Achill Island, in County Mayo is where the largest number of, as yet, unsubstantiated modern sightings in Ireland have been. Apparently, a small population of Dobhar Chu live in Sraheens Lough, though it is believed that they are migratory, not living in the lake all the year.

Many sightings have been documented down through the years. Most recently in 2003 Irish Artist Sean Corcoran and his wife claim to have witnessed a Dobhar-Chú on Omey Island in Connemara, County Galway. In his description the large dark creature made a haunting screech, could swim fast and had orange flipper like feet.

“The creature,” reports Corcoran, “swam the width of the lake from west to east in what seemed like a matter of a few seconds.” Corcoran concludes that it finally leapt onto a huge boulder, and before disappearing gave “the most haunting screech”.

So be careful when swimming in Lough Mask????

 

There is even a religious link to the Dobhar Chu. The first sighting of the Loch Ness monster was said to have happened in the seventh century and it was by St. Columba the Irish missionary. He was said to have challenged and overcome the monster, by using his spiritual powers Columba miraculously saved a man who was being eaten by Nessie.  This story was to give birth to another myth, that tells us that it was for this reason that Nessies offspring came to inhabit the lakes of Ireland to take revenge on the Irish people and avenge St Columba’s actions.

As a matter of interest the modern Irish word for an Otter is Dobhar Chu although Madra Uisce is also used.  The Dobhar Chu may be a relative of the Giant Otter, these are known to grow to over 6 feet in length and can weigh up to eighty pounds. They are carnivorous and have been known to attack human adults and have been recorded at swimming at speeds that exceed nine miles an hour.  They communicate using a variety of sounds depending on the circumstances however if they sense danger they emit a high piercing screech to warn their mate. So fact or fiction, I’ll let you decide.

Karma.

Now something to make you smile, I hope. You know Karma is a wonderful thing and it’s reflected in this letter a man wrote to his wife.

Dear Wife,
I’m writing you this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you forever. I’ve been a good man to you for seven years and I have nothing to show for it. These last two weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you quit your job today and that was the last straw. Last week, you came home and didn’t even notice I had a new haircut, that I’d cooked your dinner and even wore a brand new pair of silk boxers. You ate your dinner and never even said thank you, then you went straight to sleep after watching all of your soaps.

I know I’m just a house husband since I lost my job and now you’re the bread winner but you don’t tell me you love me anymore; you don’t want to go out together and I feel that you’re ashamed of me. So either you’re cheating on me or you don’t love me anymore; whatever the reason, I’ve had enough and I’ve left you.

Your EX-Husband

P.S. don’t try to find me. Your sister and I are moving away to Dublin together! Have a great life!

Dear Ex-Husband
Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s true you and I have been married for 7 years, although a good man is a far cry from what you’ve been. I watch my soaps so much because they drown out your constant whining & griping, too bad that doesn’t work. I DID notice when you got a hair cut last week, but the first thing that came to mind was ‘You look just like a girl!’ Since my mother reared me not to say anything if you can’t say something nice, I didn’t comment. And when you cooked my dinner, you must have gotten me confused with my sister, because I stopped eating pork 7 years ago. About those new silk boxers: I turned away from you because the €49.99 price tag was still on them, and I prayed it was a coincidence that my sister had just borrowed €50 from me that morning. After all of this, I still loved you and felt we could work it out together. So when I hit the lotto for 10 million Euros, I quit my job and bought us 2 tickets on The Orient Express but when I got home you were gone. Ah well, everything happens for a reason. I hope you now have the life you want. My Solicitor said that the letter you wrote ensures you won’t get a cent from me. So take care.

Signed, you’re Ex-Wife, Rich Happy and Free!

P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my sister Georgina was born George. I hope that’s not a problem. Good luck.

Aughisky.

Now back to the water monsters of Ireland’s lakes.

Aughisky.

These are the water horses of Ireland and they have been known to gallop out of the crashing waves up onto the shore, venturing inland. They are supposed to make excellent mounts for whoever can catch one, although riding an Aughisky is not without risk. If they hear or see the sea they set off in an uncontrollable charge, galloping straight back into the watery depths where they came from, taking their helpless rider with them to be torn apart. It has even been suggested that the Aughisky may be the so-called "Irish crocodile," which is more commonly referred to as the previously mentioned Dobhar Chu.

Eyewitnesses have described the animal as a Water Horse which is capable of assuming the characteristics of a man, save for its ears, which retain their horse-like appearance. According to legend the Aughisky pastime was to pretend to be grazing quietly at night in order to lure unsuspecting humans onto its back by appearing to be a docile horse. Once the trusting individual was firmly situated on the creature's spine it would suddenly bolt for the nearest lake or riverbed, where it would proceed to devour its victim with the exception of the liver for which it seems to have developed a dislike. It has also been claimed that the skin of the Aughisky has adhesive properties, which would explain why its victims aren't able to leap to safety before plummeting into their watery graves. You see Storytellers think of an answer for everything.

An Aughisky a few years ago frequented Lough Mask, co. Mayo, preying on the cattle, until it was killed by a monk of Tourmakeady. Another that lived in Lough Corrib had a serpent's body and a horse's head; this used to feed on the bodies buried in the churchyard to the south-east of Oughterard, but one of the Lees family whose sister was buried watched her body and killed the monster, its blood staining the church wall to this day: the holes through which this Aughisky came up can be seen along its track through Lemon field Bog.

A water horse that lived in Litter-craffoe Lake was captured by a boy of the Cooney family, he was warned by a wise woman if he ever let it see the water it would be the death of him. For years it was a faithful horse, but one day he brought it in sight of the lake, into which it shot like an arrow, carrying its rider with it, whom it killed and tore to pieces, blood and fragments of his body floated on the surface of the water.

A funny story is told of Tom (we won’t mention his last name).  He spent an evening drinking whiskey on a little Island in the middle of Lough Mask when he saw a water horse coming towards him. He rushed into his boat and pulled for his life,  when he got to land he met a neighbour who asked him to lend him the boat, as his old mare and foal had just swum across the lake and he wanted to follow them, so much for this Aughisky. Must have been strong whiskey.

 In the 7^th century St. Féchine of Fore compelled an Aughisky to pull his chariot after his horse fell dead. There’s always a religious connection.

The Kelpie (Part One).

 

And now for some folklore and a couple of stories about another Lake Monster known as a Kelpie. It’s in two parts so here we go.

The Kelpie part one.

The kelpie like the Aughisky is a supernatural waterhorse from Celtic folklore that is believed to haunt the rivers and loughs of Scotland and Ireland. The horse's appearance is strong, powerful, and breathtaking. Its hide was supposed to be black (though in some stories it was white), and will appear to be a lost pony, but can be identified by its constantly dripping mane. Its skin is like that of a seal, smooth but as cold as death when touched. Water horses are known to transform into beautiful women to lure men into their traps. It is understood that the nostril of the horse is what creates the illusion of grandeur. The water horse creates illusions to keep itself hidden, keeping only its eye above water to scout the surface, much like the illusion of a fish's pupil or a crocodile. It is wise to keep away from them.

As the story of the kelpie differs depending on the region where it is told. Other versions of the story say that the kelpie is "green as glass with a black main and a tail that curves over its back like a wheel" or that, even in human form, they are always dripping wet and/or have water weeds in their hair.

The water horse is a common form of the kelpie, said to lure humans, especially children, into the water to drown and eat them. It performs this act by encouraging children to ride on its back. Once its victims fall into its trap, the kelpie's skin becomes adhesive and it bears them into the river, dragging them to the bottom of the water and devouring them — except the heart or liver. Commonly known as spirits of the dead, they are malevolent creatures. Well its one way to keep children away from the edge of the lough.

An exception is an Irish tale in which, the coming of Christianity began to mark the end of the mystical period of Ireland, a water horse fails to travel to Tír na nÓg with its fellow mystical creatures and instead rises above water, seeking a wife. However, after attempting to court a rather clever girl, who consults a druid about the situation, he is captured and forced to work to be taught compassion. After learning his lesson, he is given the choice of departing to Tír na nÓg or drinking a magic potion that will make him a real man. The water horse, now full of love, decides to drink the potion which erases the memories of his life as a water horse and gives him the chance to live with the clever girl with whom he has fallen in love.

Some say the kelpie is not always male, but may also take the form of a human woman. In this instance, the kelpie is often referred to as a water wraith and is most often seen clothed in a green dress.  She is just as treacherous as a male Kelpie.

There was one way in which a Kelpie could be defeated and tamed;  the Kelpie's power of shape shifting was said to reside in its bridle, and anybody who could possess such a bridle could force the Kelpie to submit to their will.   A Kelpie in subjugation was highly prized, it had the strength of at least 10 horses and the endurance of many more, but the fairy creatures were always dangerous captives especially those as malignant as the Kelpie.

As we have heard the water monsters that were said to inhabit our lakes had the ability to shape shift and so they may appear as Water Hounds, Water Horses or even Humans. Here follows one such story.

The Kelpie’s Wife.

There once was a Kelpie's wife, who lived beneath the Lough with her baby son, whom she loved dearly. The Kelpie's wife loved her husband but she missed the warmth of the sun and her family, for the Kelpie had stolen her away from them without as much as a farewell.

One day, when her husband was out hunting victims, the cold and the darkness became unbearable and she fled to the surface, leaving behind her baby son, for she knew the Kelpie loved his son and would care for him. Once at the surface she basked in the warmth of the sun and soon made her way to her parent’s cottage. Her family were overjoyed to see her, for they thought she had died and so they held a great Celidh.

The Celidh dragged on into the night and the Kelpie's wife soon forgot her husband and child with the joy of being reunited with her family. During the night there came a great storm and suddenly, from outside the cottage, they could hear the champing of a horse's hooves.

Her husband had found his wife gone and was furious, for he loved her so greatly that he viewed her escape as the ultimate crime. Taking the form of a black stallion he banged on the cottage door but he couldn’t enter, for he had not been given permission to enter and cross the threshold. He called for her in rage filled screams. The Kelpie's wife was frightened and also sad for she loved her husband but wished to stay with her family. Eventually, during the night, they heard a great 'thud' as something hit the door. After this, there was silence.

In the morning when the Kelpie had returned to the Lough, they found lying on the ground, the decapitated head of the Kelpie's son. In revenge for his wife's betrayal he had slain his only son. This was the price to pay for breaking a Kelpie's heart. The Kelpie's wife lived contently and was never again bothered by the Kelpie, who had learnt his lesson of love.  To be honest the two of them sound like a heartless pair.

The Kelpie (Part Two).

As promised here is the second part of the folklore and stories of The Kelpie.

The Kelpie part two.

Another story concerning The Kelpie comes to us from Donegal,

Once upon a time, not that long ago there lived a poor fisherman in the village of Buncranna in County Donegal who went by the name of Seamus O’Doherty. His family had fallen on hard times and he was now the sole provider for his seven brothers and sisters. One day when Seamus was down amidst the rocks at low tide hunting for crabs he stopped for a smoke, it was a fine summer day and finding a sheltered spot behind two large boulders he sat on the warm sand and he let the warm sun warm his body. He lay back and fell into a deep sleep.

Seamus woke with a start, the sun was now low in the sky and the tide was almost full in. “Ah Jesus” he thought ” the tide has cut me off , I’m Stuck!” and indeed he was, it was either swim for it or climb the cliffs, neither was an option he felt inclined to take. He slumped down in his little spot between the boulders and lit another cigarette while he considered his options.

Just then he heard the sound of voices, he rose and peered over the rock. Seamus wasn’t very popular in the village as he was prone to bouts of extreme drunkenness so he didn’t expect it to be a rescue party. He was amazed by what he saw coming out of the water. There were a group of people, fair of face and lithe of body, these were no mortal folk, these were Kelpies. Seamus knew the old stories and like most villagers half believed them half not, and yet here in front of him was proof.

When the fairy’s were driven from the land by Patrick and his fellow priests most went to Tir na Og, the land of the forever young but some elected to stay, the Banshee stayed to summon the dying, the shining ones stayed to guard the holy places and the Kelpies took the form of grey seals and lived almost their whole lives in the sea only taking on their human forms to mate or die.

The group of kelpies 7 men and 6 women formed a circle on the beach; they were dressed only in shifts of a light material, covered with a thick cloak of fur. Their leader, if such he was, stood in the centre of the circle and started to sing One by one the others joined in. Such music Seamus had never heard the like of before, it drifted over the beach and mingled with the sound of the waves on the pebbles and the breeze swirling up and down in rhythm with the beat of a heart.

Seamus slid down into his hollow again, this was something no mortal man had seen or heard for thousands of years. The singing got quieter and eventually died away, Seamus rose again and peered over the rock. The group was standing silent, their leader raised his arms and said ‘Go now and make us strong again’ He turned and walked into the sea merging with the surf and was gone. The rest of the group quickly paired off and went to find a place where they could be alone, one couple came towards Seamus,

 ‘Oh Mother Mary protect me’ prayed Seamus for he had been told of the fate that befell those caught by the fairy’s.

The couple stopped not far from Seamus’s hiding place and throwing their cloaks and shifts to one side began kissing and canoodling on the sand. Seamus could hear the amorous activity increase in intensity and frantically looked round for a means of escape. He then noticed that the girl had thrown her cloak down carelessly and it was just within reach. Seamus edged himself closer and quietly slipped the cloak into his bag, before creeping back to the shelter of the stones.

 The couples ended their hanky panky and one by one returned to the sea, the girl whose cloak Seamus had lifted searched the beach for her garment but couldn’t find it. Soon she was alone on the beach.

 Seamus rose from his hiding place, ‘Is this what you are looking for?’ he asked taking the cloak from his bag. The girl gasped.

 “Well have you no tongue in your head?” he asked,

“Seamus O’Doherty” The girl whispered in a strange sing song voice, that seemed to come not from her mouth but from inside Seamus’s Head.

“How in god’s name do you know who I am” asked Seamus,

 “All the creatures of the shore and fish in the sea know who you are Seamus’ the girl said “Now give me my cloak so that I can return to the sea”

“Now what would I be doing that for” replied Seamus. ‘Sure you would just be swimming off and leaving me like the poor soul I am. No I want some treasure, gold or silver before you get this back”

“Ha” the girl shook her long blond hair “and how would I do that, isn’t all our treasure deep down in the sea, and you have my cloak so how can I get it?”

Seamus thought about this, the girl smiled and edged towards him hand outstretched,

“Please now Seamus give me my cloak”

Seamus looked deep into the girls deep blue eyes, they swirled and sparkled like the pebbles caught in the waves. Seamus reached the cloak out to the girl, then shook himself and said,

  “None of your auld fairy tricks now”

“Och Seamus” said the girl “sure you’ll give me my cloak now wont you”,

She was close to Seamus now and he could smell the salt in her hair. She reached out and touched him; he felt a tremor run up his arm. She led him down to the water’s edge and reached up and kissed him full on the lips. Stars exploded in his head, his lips tingled and passion flared in every nerve of his body. He pulled her close and returned the kiss. They fell backwards into the shallow water and embraced. She started to sing in his ear in the strange language of the kelpies, Seamus shivered with delight.

He felt a tugging at his waist and in a flash the girl had her cloak and was gone. Seamus was alone and no longer at the water’s edge, he had been pulled out to sea and not noticed. Seamus like many fisher folk then as now couldn’t swim; he floundered for a full minute before at last his head sank beneath the waves. Water rushed into his lungs and slowly he felt life leave his body, as it did he opened his eyes and saw the kelpies male and female surround him and watch in silence as he died.

In the village that evening the Banshee howled and the villagers wondered who had offended the fairy’s, the next morning they had their answer as Seamus’s body was washed into the harbour.

Murrisk. Sea marsh or Sea monster?

Murrisk.

Finally I’ll finish of this week’s foray into the stories and folklore of Sea Monsters with a bit of a local flavour.

The name Murrisk originated from either Muir Riasc meaning a marsh by the sea or Muir Iasc meaning sea monster. Here's a little story that I've adapted in order to give it a local connection and to get you thinking. 

Once upon a time, oh it must have been about 150 years ago, a family from Dublin were visiting family in or around Westport and decided to spend the day taking the sea air.  The father had a keen interest in what was at that time the relatively new and expensive past time of photography and he took his rather cumbersome tripod camera along in order to take some photographs that he could show off to his friends on returning to Dublin.

After gaining some advice from the family he was visiting he and his wife and children set off for Bertra beach and the little village of Murrisk where he was assured he would be able to take advantage of the beautiful views of Clew Bay and The Reek and also visit sites of archaeological interest such as the old abbey.

It was near the end of September, the day was bright but there was a distinct autumnal chill in the air and although they expected to see other people on the beach it was completely deserted.  While his wife set up a little picnic area the children were playing happily together so the father took the opportunity to set up his camera in order to take a family photograph.  His camera was the newest model available and he was eager to try it out and although the children would have preferred to carry on playing they obeyed their father’s instructions and together with their mother they all lined up and he arranged them into what he thought would be the perfect position.

Placing his head under the back cloth of his box camera he was happy with the view and as the plate began to record the image he ran over and joined his family.  Suddenly an unexpected visitor joined them, it was a beautiful black horse wearing only a bridle of black leather with ornate silver decoration.  They began to stroke the horse and were delighted to see it as they had a great love of horses and had a number of them back in Dublin so they were not unduly worried about this riderless horse that had appeared silently in their midst.

The horse was magnificent, its coat shone and it held its head high and proud.  The father loved riding and as an accomplished horseman he couldn’t resist the urge to climb up onto the horse’s back.  The lack of a saddle didn’t bother him in the slightest and before he realised what was happening the horse took off galloping along the beach towards the sea.  As they entered the crashing waves of the incoming tide he tried to reign in the horse but to no avail.  His family, not realising the danger he was in and believing he knew what he was doing stood back up the beach watching and laughing at the sight of him getting soaking wet as the waves crashed up against the side of the horse. 

They all cheered as they saw the horse jumping through the water but suddenly his wife raised her hands to her face as she realised that the horse was out of control.  The horse let out a loud cry as it disappeared beneath the waves taking the rider with it.  The father’s body was never found.  The photograph sat on the mantelpiece of the family home in Dublin but strangely over the years even the father’s image has faded from the family picture.  It’s as though the Kelpie has taken his very soul.

 Murrisk, Marsh by the sea or could it have been the legendry Sea monster, I’ll let you decide.