Posted on

EPISODE 67 BUNMAHON, IRELAND “WE CSN CRAWL INTO THE OLD MINE THROUGH A HOLE”

John,  EPISODE 67 will be coming soon…but first let me introduce a change
in approach.  I will suspend the journal for a moment because this mine adventure
was  a major turning point in the project for me.  It was not company policy until
a little later.  Send the note below to our readers.

alan



EPISODE 67   BUNMAHON , IRELAND” “WE CAN CRAWL INTO THE OLD MINE THROUGH A HOLE”


alan skeoch
June 2020



“I know where there’s a hole.”
“A hole ?”
“Yes,, a hole in the cliff.”
“So?”
“So we can squeeze through the hole and get into the old mine.”
“You must be kidding, Barney”
“No,  I’ve crawled  into the hole many times.”
“Why?”
“Curiosity.”
“Can you take me there?”
“Sure, this Saturday if you want.”

SATURDAY JULY 23,1960

Note:  Saturday July 23, 1960, I was told  by Barney Dawn that it was
possum;e tp squeeze through an old adit (an air vent) and actually enter
te Knockmaon mine.   This event was a climax point in the Bunmahon
adventure.   I had a choice.  Take a risk and enter the mine.  Or
play  it safe and  do  nothing other than our surface work.  I chose
the risk taking venture.  Why?  Because I was 21 years old…young
and foolish.  Adventure seeking.  Crawling through that air vent
was not part of my job so, at first,  Barney, Andy and I did  it on evenings
or Sundays.  Later both John Hogan and Dr. John Stam decided
to get involved in underground exploration when we were made
aware of a legend lost cow in an old mine entrance inland from
the sea.   The results of that venture were startling.

So I have decided to give these ventures special consideration…and
a special heading.   A question for you to think about: Would you crawl
through that hole in the cliff face?   Would you do it when you were 21?

GOING UNDERGROUND WITH BARNEY 

(coming next)


Posted on

*DATE ERROR CRRECTED…. EPISODE 66 BUNMAHON, IRELAND SUNDAY JUly 17, 1960 TO jJuly 22 1960 CATTLE CHOMPING AND CASTLES BURNING

DATE ERROR CORRECTED  … ORIGINAL HAD JUNE, SHOULD BE JULY


Begin forwarded message:


From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: EPISODE 66 BUNMAHON, IRELAND SUNDAY JULY 17, 1960 TO CATTLE CHOMPING AND CASTLES BURNING
Date: June 15, 2020 at 9:00:16 PM EDT
To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>


EPISODE 66   BUNMAHON, IRELAND,     CATTLE CHOMPING , AND CASTLES BURNED


alan  skeoch
June 2020

Our crew assembling on a roadside.   The local newspaper from Waterford took this picture when they did a
long article on our poject.   I count 7 men here.  At one point I think we had 10 men employed.   Quite  a job to
keep  things  moving.  

SUNDAY, JULY 17, 1960

I’m getting to be familiar with Mass at St. Mary’s RC church but today
was a  cold weather experience….no heat in church.  What really amuses 
me at the church is  the Holy Water urn at the door.   My employees always
try to hit me with a handful.   Sometimes successful.

I spent the part of the day reading The Bramble Bush…very sad  book about mercy
killing, religions and, of  course, sex.  Not sure it was worth the time.  In the
afternoon we went down to Kirwin’s and Frank let us into the ‘secret’ room…the room has
connection with Time of the Troubles and the IRA.  I never know when 
people are telling the truth as they love mysterious stories.  Hard to imagine
Bonmahon people full of hatred.

Then I went for a walk on Bunmahon beach alone.  There were clusters
of people walking along the cliffs higher up.  Every evening. So I was not alone.
  A group of girls appeared  and greeted me by my name much  to
my surprise.  Scared me a bit really.  I think they used my first name, Alan,
rather than  the usual Master Skeoch.  Sounds odd to be called Master Skeoch
but it is very natural and I think a term of respect.   Certainly funny.
We  talked but I never quite understood  the accent.  Nice kids…a couple
of the girls were about my age.

Then around 9 p.m. a couple of the boys arrived to take me to a dance
in Tramore.  We had a grand time.  Dancing is a big time thing here in
Ireland.  Both of the ‘boys’ were older and married.

MONDAY, JULY 18, 1960

The sea was changeable.  In bad weather the waves came so far up the beach that our grounding rods were compromised. Waternever reached
the generator.  My fault for thinking grounding rods were secure.  


Today we attempted to lay a new base line east of Bunmahon.  Not easy.
Barney and I had to scale down a  200 foot cliff to get a good grounding
point.  I wish  I knew more about grounding.  Perhaps top of cliff would have
been fine.  Cliff climbing was frightening.  No sooner did we get the base line
in place than new herds of cattle began browsing on what looked  like special
food to them…our yellow wire.  Five cable breaks reduced  our daily mileage
to 3,100 feet.

I spent the evening working on my earphones and then Mrs. Kennedy
asked me to repair her vacuum cleaner.

I think this lad’s name was Tim.  He never spoke to me but loved the job.  I am not sure
he could speak.  Maybe he was  just shy.   He sure was  dependable…almost like he was
camping at our motor generator.


Bunmahon has quite a few handicapped  people.   We hired one young
lad to guard our motor generator.  He is handicapped.  Overjoyed to have
a job so  he set up a campsite beside the motor generator   Very cute.
I estimate there are 5 severely handicapped people in and around the village.

TUESDAY, JULY 19. 1960

This was  our first full working day  on new base line.  Disappointing. The local
cattle destroyed 1,500 feet of new cable…wire a jumble as  cattle dragged
lengths of the cable into a tangled mess.  Then they ate some.  

Worse still today the ocean got to our grounding rods.  My error. Relocated
them.  By 11 a.m. we were ready to try to get some readings done.  Managed
to do four lines.  Not bad.  



Passed through  a tiny chapel with an ancient graveyard…all that remains
of a monastery.  The boys told me the “chapel jumped across the stream”
and that is why it was saved.  Believe it or not.  

Returned home quite pleased with the day.  Mrs. Kennedy assured  me she
now had enough peanut butter as she drove to Waterford where it was
sent from Dublin.  Nice of her.  Seems she did  know about peanut butter’s
existence.  Sometimes her dialect confuses me but she is a quite outstanding
woman and certainly has strong opinions about human behaviour.  Neither
she wore her husband go to Kirwin’s pub.  She disapproves of local  people
spending money there because they have so little money.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 20, 1960

John Stam and John Hogan drove to St. Patrick’s, a mining community,
in search of more business for the Turam…or maybe just curiosity.

The boys and i pushed  the distance we could be from the electrified
base line.  I was able to read a signal at 4300 feet. but only faintly. We
usually terminate the lines at 3,000 feet distant at a right angle from the base line.

Dr. Stam thinks some of our anomalies merit deeper consideration so
we have hired more men to did trenches down to bed rock just in
case there are mineralized exposures.  I visited our first trench today
where we found a little quartz exposed.  I do  not know if this was
important or not.

What is most amusing, however, is  the way  a herd of pigs clustered
at the top of the trench while the men were digging.  Barney thinks
some pigs are dangerous but this group were just curious.  When I get
strapped in to the Turam receiving coil and console  and battery pack
I cannot get away should  the pigs let hunger trump curiosity.


Barney tells me stories endlessly.  Always with the hint of a smile so i am never sure what to
believe.  The pig story for instance.  He mentions it every time we meet a gang of pigs.
“Story is told of a Nun taking a short cut to church across a farm field.  The pigs got
her. All that was found were her boots with her feet in them.”  Chuckle…chuckle.  

Took a  bath tonight.  Needed it

THURSDAY, JUlY 21, 1960

Today  we entered  the O’Shea  forest at Garnemorris.  Purgatory
would be nicer than this expanse of tangled Holly and Ivy.  Dense.
Higher than any person on our crew and  difficult to cut.  All part of
of a large heavily treed  forest.   Part of the 1500 acre O;Shea estate.




The manor house was set on fire in 1922 by IRA members protesting
the large landowners wealth at the expense of ordinary Irish who lived
in poverty.  Must check out the name “Power O’Shea”.

Mr. Cunningham arrived to check out our Turam  work . He represents
the Geological Survey of Ireland.   We picked up a hue anomaly.  Not sure
if reading is  reliable though as  signal was  very weak due to leak.

We  had to give up around 3 p.m. because foliage was  so dense we
could hardly move and I was not sure the compass baring was accurate
when the lines were cut.

NOTE:  Before we attempt to ‘read’ the Turam, a linocutting crew is 
sent to cut and mark lines 3,000 feet on either side of the electrified base 
line.   The line cutters pound in stakes marking  50 or 100 feet 
‘stations’  as they proceed.  Usually a  two or three man crew do this
using a compass for accuracy…ie. to ensure the lie is straight.  In the
O’shea forest errors occurred because straight line compass sightings
were difficult.

page1image2866760544

Fener Bog, County Waterford…where Larry Dey
got caught and was sinking. Fenor Bog began to grow 10,000 years in a lake basin at the bottom

of Ballyscanlon Hill. Peat – the partially rotted remains of plants filled the basin to form a raised bog. 

In historic times the bog was cut by local people. The turf removed was used to heat family homes. 

About 100 years ago, turf cutting ceased and the bog began to regenerate into the wet fen habitat we see today. 



Larry Dey got stuck in the Fener bog hole today.  He was trapped and
sinking when Johny came along and pulled him out.  Probably would
not have sunk much deeper.  But bogs can paralyze.


FRIDAY,  JULY 22, 1960

We got an early start today   

The day  was  full of troubles as rhe staking crew were inaccurate due
to the heavy forest and low brush and bog vegetation.  Very difficult to
keep the lines  straight.   I was irritated but should not have been 
since the crew tried hard to keep at right angles to base line. 
I should not have been angry…but the feeling of responsibility overcame
good sense … and good public relations.   


WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TIME OF THE TROUBLES?

File:A family pose beside a make-shift shelter Alexander Street, Waterford, Ireland, 1920s (6805869735).jpgupload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b9/A_family_pose_beside_a_make-shift_shelter_Alexander_Street%2C_Waterford%2C_Ireland%2C_1920s_%286805869735%29.jpg/1575px-A_family_pose_beside_a_make… 2x” data-file-width=”2485″ data-file-height=”1890″ class=””>
Pictured above are three generations  of a poverty stricken Waterford family living under a old tarpaulin.
The picture may have been  staged somewhat .  photo credit 1900 to 1920 by a reporter associated
with the IRA movement.

NOTE:   While there were almost constant references to the “time of the Troubles” by
our Irish  hosts, the Kennedy family…and also by our work force and people at Kirwin’s
pub, these comments were never made in a hostile manner.  The Irish were warm and
fun loving in my experience. When one  of our workers father died  i went to the
wake which was a warm tribute to the man… feeling of warmth…of acceptance…of sincere interest. It was
very hard for me to visualize either the  potato famine of the 1840’s or the violence of
the move to independence in the 1920’s.   But there were definitely bad times.





The mention by Mrs. Kennedy that the O’Shea manor house had been burned by he IRA
in 1922 was an offhand remark. I thought it might be an isolated event.  Wrong. In the Time
of the Troubles  IRA men burned 274 Irish mansions mostly owned by Protestant Irish (many
of  them former English).  The goal  was to get land back to Irish  peasant farmers but much of
that had already been done.  A Land Reclamation program had been redistributing land for
some time.  As a result  The burnings backfired on the IRA since many jobs on these 
estates were lost. That was the 1920’s. But the IRA was making a point no matter what the cost.

So in the 1920’s many great mansions were lost.   In the 1950’s and the 1960’s the same thing
was happening to  English country houses
by the hundreds….in1955 one was being demolished  every five days… auctioning contents
 and demolition because aristocratic  families
lost their heirs in the World  Wars or the owners could no longer pay the taxes on big estates
that amounted  unto 65% Succession duties.  In  both cases…Irish violence and  English post war
poverty resulted in the loss of hundreds of magnificent buildings.  National treasures gone.

(Later I hoped to visit the Eywood Estate in England which was demolished  in 1955.  My grandfather
Edward Freeman  had been he head  gardener on the estate  Mom was born there.  I wondered
what would be left standing.  I knew the huge country house was gone.  Was it all gone?)




How much of this violence happened near Bunmahon in the 1920’s?   Two events stand  out.

1) THE BURGERY AMBUSH:
(Dungarven)

“On the night of 18–19 March 1921, IRA volunteers of the West Waterford flying column ambushed a British military convoy at the Burgery, about a mile and a half northeast of Dungarvan. The convoy included Black and Tans and a Royal Irish Constabulary Sergeant, named Michael Hickey.[2] In overall command of the IRA unit was IRA GHQ Officer George Plunkett. Also present were West Waterford Brigade Commandant Pax Whelan, ASU leader George Lennon, and Mick Mansfield. A British Crossley tender was set on fire and prisoners taken by the IRA, including Sergeant Hickey. Hickey was later killed by an IRA firing squad[3] with a sign reading “police spy” affixed to his tunic. He was later buried in an unmarked grave.[2] Other prisoners including Captain DV Thomas, the commander of the British garrison, were released.
After the ambush, a group of volunteers under Plunkett returned to search for any armaments left behind by the British forces. Crown forces who were now searching the area engaged the IRA party; IRA volunteers Seán Fitzgerald and Pat Keating were shot dead. A Black and Tan, Constable Sydney R. Redman[3] was shot dead during the return fire.”  Wikipedia


2)  BURNING OF THE POWER O’SHEA ‘BIG HOUSE’
(This mayor may not be the O’Shea big  house  (Country House, Mansion…other terms).  After the fire the 
house was  rebuilt and repaired)

The ‘big house’ on the O’Shea estate was one of the nearly 300 country houses set on fire by the IRA in the 1920’s…set on fire  because they were symbols of
the English oppression of the Irish.  The OShea  house was only partially destroyed so it was subsequently rebuilt.  Lost in the fire, however, were the artworks
and the library.  Other Country Houses had a much darker fate .. i.e. totally destroyed.
Quote below:

QuoW “

Ballynastragh House depicted in 1826, typical of the “Big Houses” targeted by the IRA.

 “By the start of the Irish revolutionary period in 1919, the Big House had become symbolic of the 18th and 19th-century dominance of the Protestant Anglo-Irish class in Ireland at the expense of the native Roman Catholic population, particularly in southern and western Ireland.[4]
The Anglo-Irish, as a class, were generally opposed to the notions of Irish independence and held key positions in the British administration of Ireland. The Irish nationalist narrative maintained that the land of Irishmen had been illegally stolen from them by the landowning aristocracy, who had mostly arrived in Ireland as Protestant settlers of The Crown during the late 16th and 17th centuries. The Irish Big House was at the administrative centre of the estates of the landowners, as well as being the family seat from which the Anglo-Irish exerted their political control over the island.[5]
This perception was popularly held by nationalists, despite a considerable increase in Irish landownership in the previous decades due to the Irish Land Acts. Whereas in 1870, 97% of land was owned by landlords and 50% by just 750 families, by 1916, 70% of Irish farmers owned their own land.[6] Catholics had been emancipated in 1829 and the political dominance of the Anglo-Irish in Ireland had consequently declined following the electoral successes of the Catholic nationalist Irish Parliamentary Party through much of the 19th century.[7]
The former Protestant Ascendancy had lost its economic power following the Great Famine of 1845-49, and the Long Depression of the 1870s; and then lost its political power after the Representation of the People Act 1884. By 1915 the Irish Land Commission had transferred over 60% of Irish farmland to tenant farmers, leaving most of the former landed gentry with a house and a home farm known as a “demesne”. The former landlords could afford to employ gardeners and household staff as they had received, as a group, the equivalent of over €60 billion (in 2019 euro).[8] Burning country houses from 1919 was therefore largely symbolic, and removed the former landlords’ capital from the Irish economy when they emigrated, as well as ending the employment of thousands of their staff, with an inevitable knock-on effect on local economies. “ (wikipedia)

Bonmahon was not such a peaceful friendly place  in the years of the Great Potato Famine much
of which was blamed on the English.  Negative  comments made in the 1850’s by the local Protestant minister
in Bonmahon, Rev. Doudney. who left  Bonmahon in 1857 nearly triggered  a blood bath but that
could be an exaggeration.   No one seems to have lost their life.  People just moved  on.


Postcard pictures of Bonmahon between 1900 and1920’s.  Mr. and
Mrs.  Kennedy’s home survived but other homes were gone by 1960



END EPISODE 66



Posted on

EPISODE 65 BUNMAHON IRELAND JULY 5, 1960 TO


NOTE:  All jobs  eventually become routine.  Our job had many failures but those
became routine.  Our enemy was not the weather or the IRA.  Our enemies were the cattle
of Ireland.  

Marjorie thinks some of these stories are too long…so I will shorten the Episodes…which
means there will be more Episodes.  Lots of weird things happened that should keep
your attention

alan 


EPISODE 65   BUNMAHON , IRELAND   JULY  5,1960 TO JULY 16, 1960


alan skeoch
June 2020


Behold…THE enemies we had to face every single day.  Above.

TUESDAY  JULY 5, 1960

Stan Holmes is a very interesting man who has been to every corner of
the earth.  

We put in a long day today which included wading across a river.  Cold
and depressing but still managed to do  6 lines…a record so far on this  job.
A  long walk home…we really should have a car on this job.  Did you know
that there are more cattle in Ireland than people?  4.5 million cattle and
2.5 million people.  Supper was  very nice…food and  stories …tales
of  Bombay and Casablanca.   John Hogan seems nervous with Stan
Holmes…why?  Insecure?   

Big tide is  coming which makes me  worry about our motor generator
…too close to the sea.  No mail for past two days.

WEDNESDAY  JULY 6, 1960

Everything seemed to be going well today until 3 p.m. when we had
another cable break…cattle chewing cable I imagine.  So I let the men
off for rest of  day.   John Stam had  a  phone call from Waterford
asking me to demonstrate the Ronka.  Hitch hiked all the way but
had to walk  all 11 miles  back  to Bunmahon.  My feet were so  sore
I could barely climb the stairs.

Stan  Holmes entertained us with stories of the hill people of
Tennessee.

THURSDSAY ,  JULY 7, 1960

Got up late.  Had one hell of  a  day…hot as hubs of hell.
Cattle were running through our cable…broke it in 8 places which
was damn  maddening . Result was we only completed  400 feet 
of  line.    We saw plenty of rabbits.   I made an arrangement to
rent Mr. Kennedy’s  van which looks  like a relic  of the 1930’s…floorboards
gone in place so  we can see the road  go by under our feet.  John Hogan
and  Stan Holmes left for Wales.  No idea  why.

John Stam and I has long discussion  of  Catholic Church and
bias in education.  Relaxed discussion   Mrs. Kennedy  arrived with
tea for us  and she joined the discussion.

FRIDAY,  JULY 8, 1960



Herds of cattle were the biggest problem on the job.  Count these cattle.  They are likely
carrying balls  of copper wire in their first stomach (cattle have two stomachs) which they
will regurgitate.  They made work nearly impossible at times



Got an early start but had mystery problem with our Base Line Cable.
An  invisible break in the copper line but no brisk in the yellow insulation.
We spent two hours tracing down the break.  Cattle did  it again.
The ocean is  a beautiful blue today. Most of  our work was done
on the hill that rises over Bunmahon village.  Stunning vista.

Spent part of the evening repairing cable heading.  Then John
and  I went to the pub for a Shandy.   Returned  and read a
bit about World War II.   I hear stories about German bombers
ditching in Ireland…one right on Bunhmahon beach.

Mr. Kenneday asked for a demonstration of our Turam
equipment.

SATURDAY  JULY 9, 1960

Got an early start.  But all in vain.  Hoped to finish part lines and
get start on full lines but failed  as we had two breaks in the base line cable.
It might be worth hiring kids to patrol the base line and keep herds of
curious cattle away.  But that won’t happen.  

Horse  drawn caravans like this  could be rented for a  leisurely tour of Ireland.  No danger of thievery in that case.  Real  gypsy  (Tinker)
caravans were a different matter.    They look the same really.  

A gypsy caravan moved into Bunmahon today.  The Irish  call the Gypsies
“Tinkers” and  are a little nervous concerning them…thieves many think.

In the afternoon I drove the Kennedy van into Waterford which
was  quite exciting .  “When will the truck quit?” that thought was on
my mind all the time we were moving.  “Keep moving”  When I stopped
the truck ….it quit …snd each time I had to get out and start it again
with the crank.  That happened at stop lights especially.  Maddening
but also amusing.  Three features of the truck   1) quitting suddenly
2) smoke coming from the engine.    3) wobbly steering.
Managed to get the Ronka back from the possible client in
Waterford…arrived home at 6 pm. and fell asleep immediately.

We  rented this  panel van from Mr Kennedy occasionally.  It was not dependable.  Every time we stopped at a stop sign
or behind a herd of cattle, the van stopped and someone had to get out and crank.  This is  John Stam’s turn.

Heavy rain helped me sleep.  did not need to count sheep.

SUNDAY  JULY 10, 1960

The sea  is  very rough today.  Another of those so called  ‘soft’ Irish  
days which means it is  pouring rain.   John Stam and I walked to St. Mary’s
church in Knockmahon…on the east side of the Mahon River.  The church
was full to capacity.   Funny how I have become immune to the stares of
the local  people…probably the staring is  caused by the fact I do  not know
when to kneel and when to sit back so I only sit back.

My confidence in our cook was  somewhat shaken today when a
rather large gray worm peeped  at me from a piece of pork.

The new pub law came into effect today  and disrupted the social 
life of Bunmahon

I got the resistivity motor generator in operational  order today.

Then I had my first bath in two weeks.


MONDAY JULY 11, 1960

The spring tide rolled in today flooding our grounding site …motor 
generator got wet…caused  fluctuations in  the voltage.  Salt Water.
But we still managed  to do 6 fill-in lines.

We  found one good sized  anomaly in farmer Fitszgerald’s pig pen.
Speaking of pigs  we also saw a boar with its  ears ripped  off  from fighting.

In the afternoon I tripped and fell  into a thorn hedge.  Two thorns went through
my pants into by knee.  About 1 inch deep.   Barney had to pull three times
to get one of the thorns out of my flesh.   Gouged out.  Severe pain in
the evening.  Mrs.  Kennedy applied a poultice .  I don’t think I will be
able to work tomorrow.

TUESDAY, JULY 12, 1960

My leg  is  better as  I can now hobble around….but very slow going. To make
matters worse we had many cable breaks.  Maybe copper wire and yellow plastic is
tastier than it seems.  Cattle.  Job is getting routine now so we expect massive delays
as just part of doing business.  

We passed through an ancient fort today.   How ancient?

John Hogan returned from London  with many stories and a few 
goodies  such as a copy of the June issue of Playboy.  The cover passed
censorship.   Confiscated other things such as  liquor.

Today is  the twelfth of July…Celebrated in Northern Ireland but not even
mentioned  down here.  

I picked three ticks out of my legs this evening.  Nasty little things that are
almost invisible going in the leg…but bloated with blood coming out  Thankfully
these three did not get a good start so easy to remove.

Line mileage covered   4,800 feet





Picture 1 of 6
This is the july 1960 cover of Playboy Magazine which John Hogan smuggled  into Ireland when
he returned from London.   Not very revealing so the border censors let it through.  Collectors copy
today.  


WEDNESDAY  JUNE 13, 1960

Started doing the short lines today…short because of obstructions such as a cliff.
Covered all short lines on the west side in the morning then had lunch  with
the boys on the sea  shore  Like a big tourist picnic.  Stunning beauty with no sign
of any other living creatures.
Brisk  offshore breeze made big waves.  I  wondered why  Barney sat on top of 
the cliff during lunch.  “The girls are changing into bathing suits behind the rocks,
Master  Skeoch…should have told you earlier….  I  gave them all a whistle.”
 Now that could have got
me into serious trouble, glad Barney did not tell me.

Just a fast note about my lunch.  Mrs. Kennedhy makes me an elaborate
lunch each day, often she favour lobster meat sandwiches which I do not
like.  Sounds great…lobster.  But hard to eat.  Ticklish situation but I
asked her if she could  make peanut butter sandwiches  
“Never heard of peanut butter”  So she ordered it from Dublin.  Today
I had peanut butter by the sea shore while Barney ogled  the girls.

The afternoon turned very stormy  bit we kept working which did not
please the crew.  Managed  to get all west side of Mahon River completed.
(more a creek than a river).   We vsisited the 1500 acre estate of Major O’Shea 
which was  burned by the IRA in 1921.John.

Tomorrow John wants me to use the resistivity unit which is a new 
one on me so I am studying the electronics  manual.

I asked Mrs Kennedy to mend  my trousers that were torn after too
many brushes  with the Gorse.

THURSDAY JUNE 14, 1960

AH, what a day…up early in morning, wrote some letters and then got
the crew organized for the day.  Andy must overhaul the resistivity engine
as there is rust in the fuel pump from just sitting around and not being
used.  Perhaps problem in tank as  well.

We finished the Turam statins  on the salt flats quicklythen Ilet the boys knock off
until noon while I worked on the  resistivity  set up.   Motor is  not operational  so
went back  to the Turam in the afternoon.  Not nice work as we 
had three rainstorms.   I managed to sew up my pants in the evening.
Got letter from home today.

Tommy and  Andy took up to a pub in Ballyaneen…a singing pub.
Delightful folk songs sung by everyone.  Andy wanted me to take
one of the local girls  on a date…Anne Porter.   Not such a good idea.

FRIDAY JUNE  15, 1960

Slept Late in my nice warm bed while cold winds blowing from the sea
We still cannot get the resistivity motor working.

Mrs. Kennedy told us that there  were living ghosts prowling around…
I am not sure if  she was a believer or not.  Then John Hogan said
that ghost stories were told by local miners to disguise  places
in the Knockmahon or Tankardstown mines where high grade ore
had  been found.  Now that makes  sense.  Ghost stories were  
profitable.

SATURDAY JUNE 16, 1960


Mahon River, County Waterford…flow through the centre of our survey area.
I fell into the river once…but not from these high cliffs…much lower cliff
face…not dangerous but wet.

Started early today reclaiming base line cable.   Wire  got snagged
in Mahon river bottom so Tom had to wade in to cut the snag…sounds
simples but area was thick with Gorse (Brier) and Tom was bleeding
by time job was done.    I slipped and fell headlong down
cliff face  into the Main River.  Had to wade  down the river to meet the
boys.

A storm blew up in afternoon …violent wind.  at home we lit
a fire in the fireplace…imagine that in mid July.   In evening
Andy. Barney and I went to Bjuckley’s pub…the Anglican
pub in Bunmahon.  We played game of  football ,,, Pub was
nearly  empty.

END  EPISODE 66   BUNMAHON, IRELAND   JULY 5 TO JULY  16, 1960
Posted on

EPISODE 63: BUNMAHON JUNE18, 1960 to June 23, 1960

EPISODE 63    BUNMAHON, IRELAND,  JUNE 18 TO JUNE      1960


alan skeoch
June 2020

Dunhill Castle…I think this is the castle attacked by Oliver Cromwell in 17th century.  Ruins on way to Tramore from Bunmahon.
(as told to me by Mrs. Kennedy)

The Kennedy family who hosted us while we did the Turam survey in Bunmahon, Ireland.   Gerald in the foreground
was a constant companion.  Mrs  Kennedy was  the town leader.


Saturday June 18, 1960

“Got up at 8.00 a.m. Late.  Out on job by 9, worked until 3 pm.  extending base line
from 2400 to 7600 feet over and  through some very rough patches of Gorse  (Briar)
and  Nettles.   Herds of cattle at various places in he open gulches.  Will cattle be
a problem?  Unsure. John Stam and I had a discussion about the project.  We returned
to the pub for lunch which  included  a 2 shilling bottle of Cidona (sparkling cider).
Returned to our rooms for a bath and  also washed  some clothes.  Then changed
quickly for a drive to Tramore for games  of miniature golf and an elaborate 5  course
dinner not including our beer.  Cost 12 shillings, sixpence. Then carried on to
Waterford for Creme de Menthe and  a movie (Carry on Nurse).  Big time Saturday
night.  Quite a  contrast to my evenings  in Dublin.”

One  of the men we hired.  Named John.    Look at the greenery.  Imagine trying to get through this with the Turam console.  Often
these walls of green were made of Gorse  (Brier)…thousands  of needles.

Sunday, June  19, 1960


That is St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church in distance….and ing line of row housing on the left.  Housing may  die back
to time when Bunmahon was thriving mining community of 2,000 people.  Picture taken from ruin at back of Kennedy  home where
we lived.


“Today i  attended Mass for the first time in my life.  St. Mary’s Catholic Church in
Bunmahon is a very simple kind of building that was once the Temperance Hall
back in 19th century when a spirited reformer persuaded the poor paid miners
to stop wasting their money on beer and whisky.  Stam and  Hogan are both
practising Catholics.  We exchange points of view often in a friendly way.
Going to Mass was not exactly my idea.  Bridey, our maid, arrived in my bedroom
this morning…ripped off the quilt…and firmly said “Time for Mass!”  She would
not take no for an answer.  The more I thought about the more I realized she
was correct.  If we are going to work together in Bunmahon then Mass  on 
Sundays would help a lot.  Not a very religious point of view I know that.
Played cards all afternoon then went to Kirwin’s pub for a pint.  Stayed there
for some time then went for a walk along the sea shore which
comes right up to the back of the pub.  Startled to find a huge cast iron
explosive mine that must have floated to the beach in World War I or World
War II.  Empty of  course. But huge. 

World War II floating mine … empty.   Sits on Bunmahon beach.



Talled tp Mrs/ Kemnedy  about Dunhill castle which was stormed by
Oliver Cromwell way  back in the 1660’s.  She  also got around to mentioning
the MacPhare group, a Canadian mining company that she said set
a bad example for Canadians.  I think she liked  us  better…not carousing
around but spending spare time playing pinochle and miniature golf.
When she discovered I was a Presbyterian she said “a Presbyterian built
the new bridge across the Mohan river’  to which  John Hogan responded
with “Christ that bridge will never last long.”

I am getting damn tired  of  playing pinochle every free moment.
But i guess that is better than spending time an money in Kirwin’s
like most of the local drinkers do.  They really cannot afford it.
Joke I was told tonight: “A visitor asked When do pubs close?”
Irish response, “I don’t rightly know…think September”
Not so funny.  The Irish do  like telling stories and jokes. I  rather
enjoy that although the dialect is sometimes hard to understand.

MONDAY JUNE 20, 1960

“Arose early and wrote Marjorie.  Another Beautiful sunny day. We managed
to cover 12,000 feet of line.  John Stam came with me.  We now have
three local employees…Andy, John and Larry.  Tough land today so
did not get as much done as we had hoped.  Took over with Brunton
compass for first time.  Worked right through lunch for first time…stopped
at 6 p.m.  Returned  to Bunmahon to get official notice from Arbuckle and
company to say Turam would arrive tomorrow. Stopped at pub for a beer
then home for a grand supper made by Mrs.  Kennedy. I think she likes
having us in her house because we do  not carouse around although 
we do visit the pub of which  I am sure she disapproves.  Back to Kirwin’s
pub after supper and Mr. Kirwin  showed  me his collection of old
weapons.

A rather well off man arrived  with his dog and a  shotgun. Dog
took a fancy to me.  Better the dog than the shotgun.
Four girls sit on the bench  outside Kirwin’s each  night.
They seem very interested..   We had another round  of pinochle.
The village is  coming  alive as we are providing work for more
and more men.  Terribly low wages.  Embarrassingly so.  How can
a  man  earning only a pound (about $2.50 to $3) a day afford to
drink a pint of  Guinness regularly at the pub?

TUESDAY JUNE 21, 1960

THE TURAM FINALLY ARRIVED…LOTS OF CRATES.

Today I went to Waterford to get the crates of Turam equipment.
Hired the local publicans, Frank  and Kevin, along with their
ancient Ford panel van.  Picked  up everything including  gas and oil
then  took the boys to a local pub for a drink.  Bad decision because
the pub chosen  was a political  hangout.  Did not feel welcome.
Strange  to call Frank and Kevin ‘boys’ since they are twice my
age or more.  Of course the  word ‘boys’  here  in Ireland is not
an age  term.  Unpacked the crates  in the back shed
of the Kennedy store/farm (it is both).  Shed has become my
office where the men meet every day before work.  Hired two
men to help me clean  out the shed and set up a kind  of
shipping clerks desk.  Andy Kirwin is so shy that he cannot
even speak to me.  Tom Powell is the  reverse. Not sure
which I prefer.   John (Irish employee) returned after coiling
15,000 feet of  insulared wire we had just laid down. Tangled
as  a result. 

Big rolls of single line insulated cable became our base line.  This  roll is mounted on a back pack.  Some 15, 000 feet needed. Unfortunately
herds of cattle loved eating the cable.  When generator was working and a cow or steer bit into the cable there was enough shock to knock
the animal down…or so I was told by local  farmers irate at what was  happening.



Wrote letter home after trying a new drink called a shandy…lemonade
and ale.  Nice to have clean clothes to wear thanks to Bridey  and 
Mrs.  Kennedy.   Examined  that big explosive mine on the Bunmahon 
beach.  Locals said it was from World War II

THE TURAM  EXPLAINED
(Some readers may want an  explanation)
Bill Morrison  taught me how to set up and  operate the Turam when we worked together 
in Alaska…summer 1959.   Once strapped into the Turam mobility was very limited.  The
long white tube is  filled  with coiled copper wire…very heavy.  Note the cable.   My partner
keeps a100 foot separation .  He also  has a tube like mine.  A heavy battery pack is attached
to my belt at the back.  See if you can find my field note book.
 In Alaska it was hopeless to run from a bear.   In Ireland it was
super difficult to climb the stone fences  covered with Gorse.  Neeldes by the thousands.


Some readers may wonder “What on earth is a  Turam?”   I wondered the same thing when
sent to Alaska in the summer of  1959 with a 5 man “Turam” crew.  That summer I learned
how to conduct a  Turam survey which sounded very complicated.  The practical side of
doing difficult tasks was easy.  I did  not have to know  everything about the physics of the
Turam.   All I had  to do  was copy down the correct readings at hundred feet stations
and then turn the numbers over to expert geophysicists who did the interpretation.  Even
the interpretation was rather simple.  We were looking for anomalies.   High readings
that were unusual when compared to the background readings.  In this way it was possible
to find  areas of high conductivity as would happen if there was a big lump of chalcopyrite 
beneath my feet.  The Turam could detect such at depths as much as  400 feet
according to the manual.  

There you have it.  You are now an ‘instrument’ man or woman.  (Not that simple…there
were lots  of problems as you will see if you continue to read  my Irish journal).  Below
is the Wikipedia explanation of the Turam.  It is a bit more complicated than  my explanation.

No  doubt my former boss, Dr. Norman Paterson, will be sending me corrections.  He is
thriving and  has recently written a fascinating book on our years of mining exploration
in which I had a very tiny part. 

 Book:  MINING GEOPHYSICS: A  CANADIAN STORY,
by Norman Reed Paterson, published by Canadian Institute of Mining, Metallurgy and Petroleum, 2019.

alan

Turam operating in an Irish grain field.  I do not know if we paid for damages.


The Turam method is one of the oldest geophysical electro-magnetic methods used for mineral exploration, devised by Erik Helmer Lars Hedstrom in 1937.[1] Its name is derived from Swedish “TU” (two) and “RAM” (frame), referring to the two receiving coils.

Method[edit]

An insulated cable a few hundred meters to several kilometers long is laid parallel to the geological strike direction. The cable is either grounded at both ends or laid out in a large loop, and energized at low frequencies (less than 1 kHz). Two receiving coils are moved on lines outside of and perpendicular to the long side of the loop or grounded cable and two components of the resultant field are measured. The primary field generated by the large loop or cable interacts with the soil and subsoil and with a conductive body if present which could be a mineral and creates a resultant electromagnetic field. The electromagnetic field is measured according to two values: the Field Strength Ratio and the Phase Difference occurring between the two receiving coils . It is a fixed source horizontal loop method. Separation of the two moving coils is usually from 10 to 30 metres. Using an AC bridge (also called compensator bridge), Field Strength Ratio is measured in percent and Phase Difference in degrees. In-phase (Real) and quadrature (Imaginary) values can be calculated from these data. Observed field strength ratio readings are used to calculate reduced ratios using a formula determined by the loop size and shape or the grounded wire length and the position of the receiving coils relative to the loop or grounded wire. The Turam method is a frequency domain method and in a way is the precursor of the time domain fixed loop methods. It is claimed to have detected large flat lying conductors to a depth of 400 metres.

Aside:  I can drive a car even though I do not know the ins and outs of the internal combustion engine.  Same as you.  I also  got to know that there was a master cylinder in our
old 1953 Meteor.  This cylinder controlled the brakes.  It was  leaking so I had to pump the brake pedal a few times to get the car to slow down or stop.  One day  Marjorie was 
driving the car as we headed for North Bay.  We were getting very close to the car in front of us.  “Better slow down now.”  Marjorie did not know about the leaking master cylinder so kept
going.  When really close she softly touched the brake.  Nothing happened.  “Forgot to tell you … master cylinder leaks ..needs pumping a bit.”   Why tell you this?  Because there
were always  practical  difficulties doing the Turam work.  Like suddenly getting no readings.  Was the machine broken?  Nope.  Problem was usually a  cow in the next field who had 
decided our yellow base line cable looked edible.  Trouble shooting.  Instrument men like me always faced problems that had a simple answer.  Marjorie’s comment…”Why did  you
not tell me?”   “Forgot…did not cross my mind…I thought you knew.”  Driving a broken down car and operating a 1937 invented  Turam required  practical skills.  Simple skills.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 22, 1960


ONE end of our base line.  Motor Generator behind the rocky  outcrop.  Not sure this was best place to drive in grounding rods but
it worked fine.  Needed a man to make sure motor did not run out of gas while we were miles away with instruments.  Sorry the picture
is backwards.  The Irish government insisted  we have that Danger sign made in both languages.


Rose early and packed the cable in  our Fiat.  Drove to site we had chosen and then laid
out our first base line…14,500 feet long…nearly 3 miles.  Very rough going at times.  Installed
the motor generator near ocean located grounding rods.  Pounded  in grounding rods at
both ends of the cable.  Them Moment of truth arrived.  Damn motor generator would not start.
It was  the  gas.  Took some time to figure that out…needed  regular gas.  I did  not know
what the hell was wrong but managed to bluff my way through while being watched  by
our new employees lounging along the cliff top.  New men…Andy and Tom.  

Today I saw my first Irish Hare.  Magnificent runner.  In the evening Hogan and  Stam
discussed the issue of the local Catholic priest.  Do not know why.  Then back to pinochle.

THURSDAY, JUNE 23, 1960

Late getting up after stress of yesterday.  Drove to generator and  did a few tests
with the tachometer.   Base line cable broken in three places.   Thousand  feet 
from generator.  Why broken?   Likely cattle or foxes or rabbits.  Chewing the attractive
yellow insulation.   Repaired.  Also  made repairs to switch  box operating at 660 c/p/s frequency.

Spent whole day explaining jobs to new crew.  Not so easy. Discovered that Willy cannot count
and  Larry can’t read.   Of course they did not tell me that.  Why would they?  Feared losing
their jobs. We only managed to do  two lines.  Lines run at right angles  to the base line.
Each line is marked with pickets every 100 feet.where readings are taken.  Our Lines
can  extend as far as 3,000 feet out from the base line.

Discovered  an old…ancient…bridge buried in a clothing of Ivy.

Plotted  results in the evening.  We had located two anomalies.  Surprised to do so.

Received a nice long letter from Marjorie who seems to be having a grand time in Canada.
Then we went down to the pub as usual.   The owner insisted on treating us  Probably
felt we were really good for his business.

END EPISODE 63  BUNMAHON, IRELAND





Posted on

EPISODE 62 BEGINNING THE JOB…ADJUSTING TO AN OLD WORLD

Note:  It has  been a  long time since I did this job…61 years…so  I hope those of
you who are professional geophysicists will forgive my memory and my ignorance.


EPISODE  62:  BEGINNING THE JOB



As early 1500 Danish sailors noticed blue, green and  pink  stains on the cliffs along the south coast of  Ireland.  Samples  from 
the Knockmahon and Tankardstown mines show  the bright green and blue oxidized  minerals.  The boom years for mining
were 1826 to 1877.   Around 1840 these mines  were of  world wide significance.  Since 1877 the area has been in decline…sadly so  for
many local residents… fortunately Bunmahon and Knockmahon  have
become a tourist attraction recently now renamed  the Copper Coast.   If you want a project see if you can find  holes in the cliffs
through which two young men could crawl and thereby enter the century old Knockmahon mine.




alan skeoch
June 2020

Tuesday June 14, 1960

I spent a terrible night.  My whole body  twitched…nerves.   Got up and wrote a 
letter to Marjorie.  I think the 13 days spent in Dublin waiting to get going on rhe
job was the reason for the twitching.  In the morning all was fine.  My room
in Mrs.Kennedy’s house is quite  large…big enough for three religious Ikons which
did not help me sleep.   Above my bed there is large picture of Jesus with his
chest opened  to his heart.   The picture must be comforting to some people
but I found it made me uncomfortable.  Imagine yourself lying in bed and looking
upward.

The meals  prepared  and served  by the Kennedy
family are very good. Mrs. Kennedy runs the show with grace
and a bit aloof.  She also turned  out to be the moral  conscience of
Bunmahon and she was not afraid to say so.  I  think she is also nervous.  
Mr. Kennedya does
not talk much.  He spends his time farming while Mrs. Kennedy
operates the only store in the village selling essentials from clothing
to non perishable canned goods and hardware.  The store is dark
on the inside.  Not much business because most villagers seem to
be unemployed.  Both their children are charming.  Especially Gerald
who suffers  from Downs Syndrome which  makes  him very interested
in our project.  There is  a fifth member of the household who is  exclusively
Gerlad’s caregiver and  partner…their black Labrador dog.






A GLIMPSE INTO THE PAST:  KNOCKMAHON MINE CIRCA 1900 (speculating the mine could  be reopened)


Knockmahon Mine Test:  This photograph was taken around 1900.   Imagine you
were down in the mine 30 years earlier, around  1970.


1) What is  the difference between the men in white coats and the other men? 
  Why would those four men wear white jackets?
2) No one seems happy but which group is distinctly unhappy?
3) Why are they carrying candles that are lit?
4) Can you find the basic mining tools?
5) What is the purpose of that metal reinforced bucket?
6) Where in the mine  would  you guess they are standing?  Stope, Passageway,
Shaft?
7) What do  the high rubber boots worn by the white coated men tell you about 
conditions underground…and perhaps how deep in the mine the men are standing?
8) What footwear are the others wearing?  Does this say anything?
9) Notice the ladder.  How many ladders  would be needed to get here at
the 100 foot level of the Knockmahon mine?  Miners descended  in the dark.
10) What does the rope indicate about the Knockmahon Mine?
11) How did miners find their way from place to place in the mine when there
was no light other than candles (for oxygen test) and Kerosene lanterns (which
were dangerous).
12) No mine carts visible. Odd?
13) Who  would take this  kind  of work?
14) Feeling the way up, down and through  a pitch black
mine is dangerous.  Also it could be fatal if a ladder rung
broke. (which happened)  Who looked after injured miners?
15) Did children  work deep in the Knockmahon mine.  Take a guess.
16) What work  could  women and girls do in the Knockmahon
mine operation.   Take a guess.
17) Why were many of these men originally from Cornwall?
Hint: What was special about the geology of  Cornwall.  Search
and  find  out.

One Fact:

Did you know that the miners had to bid for their jobs?  i.e. If a miner wanted
access to high grade ore, he had to bid  for the location. How did  this system
of bidding function?



Ladders were left in position when the mine was abandoned in 1877.  

Main Streetupload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5e/Main_Street_Bunmahon_-_geograph.org.uk_-_708592.jpg/500px-Main_Street_Bunmahon_-_geograph.org.uk_-_708592.jpg 2x” data-file-width=”640″ data-file-height=”480″ style=”border: 0px; vertical-align: middle;” class=””>

“Alan, what can you tell me about Bunmanon?”
“Well, the village is at the mouth of the Mahon River…’ Bun Mahon’…located on the
western edge of Waterford County,  Southern Ireland.  Overlooks the sea.”
“Peculiar rock formations were noticed by Danish sailors long long ago.  Greens, blues, pinks…strange
colours caused by oxidation of metal ores, principally  copper.  Some lead. Some cobalt…perhaps some silver.”
“Tunnelling began from the cliff face… tunnels called adits are still there but hard to find.”
“Not much left of the old  town. But once in the 1850’s and  1660’s there were 2,000 people live here.”
“Hardly 100 in 1960.”
“What happened?”
“The Knockmanon mine thrived for a few decades then the seams of copper ore just
petered  out.  And most of the miners boarded immigrant ships for jobs as  miners
in the United States.”
“Bunmahon is almost a ghost town.”
“Not quite.  Kirwin’s pub is thriving and will do even better now  that you are here, Alan.”
“Strange thing about Bunmanon is the strong presence of a Temperance Movement…the old
Temperane Hall  is now the roman Catholic Church.”
“But there were once 21 pubs.”
“There would have been a  lot more if the Temperance people had not been present.”

“Why are we here in 1960?”
“World is  worried about copper reserves  because of  Idi Amin in Africa.  So Dennison Mines
thinks maybe a good supply of copper ore  was missed  by 19th century mining methods.”
“A lot of people are counting on us….dream of reopening the mine.”
“Massive unemployment in Ireland.”
“Wages of those working is as low as one  pound a day…about $2.50 Canadian.”
“Maybe  we can help for a couple of months.:
“And if we are successful Bunmahon may come alive again.”
“What are the chances?”
“Mining is a crap  shoot…win some, lose many.”



THE CANADIAN TEAM:  STAM, HOGAN AND SKEOCH



Dr. John Stam, John Hogan and  I had  our first glimpse of the old Knockmahon mine,
The ruins are impressive  … not far from a hundred to two hundred foot cliff face that goes down  
to the sea.  Stark.  Beautiful.  Intimidating.  Mysterious. All those and more
  John Stam  took over as leader of the project.   He has a phD in geophysics…knows
how the earth works…the magnetic
field that is an envelope around our world. It shields us from solar radiation
Without that shield life could not exist.  At Least life as we know it.  The magnetic field is
not uniform.  There are blips where minerals are concentrated.  These  minerals
…copper in particular…elevate our lives.  Electricity…power to elevate us lowly
humans from a brutal  dog eat dog existence to a life where books, romance, food,
music…the finer things  in life are taken for granted.  Dr. Stam will spend his life in search 
of copper.   

What creates this magnetic field?  The molten core of the earth is a dynamo.

John Hogan is a geologist employed by Denison Mines to sleuth out those pockets 
of minerals concentrated  here and there in the earths crust.  Hogan deals
in minerals he  can  touch.  Mmierals he can crack  with a hammer.  In truth, John Hogan
does  not have that  specific job here in Bunmahon.  He really is  sent to
oversee what we are doing.  He is a watchman.  I was instructed to pretend I was
a permanent employee who had worked for the company for years.  Part of that
was true.  But I was really just a summertime person.  Best to just button my lif.
John Hogan is A nice guy.  Both Johns, Stam and Hogan, 
spend a lot of  their time in the big drawing room we have rented.   They will take the numbers
from my field book and  plot them on graph paper  looking for anomalies.   Looking for
evidence that there  is something unusual  beneath our feet.



My job is important.  I am not just a ‘hewer of wood and  hauler of water’.  At least I like
to think that is  the case.  Professionals in the mining business might differ. My job is to
use  sophisticated geophysical instrument called the  Ronka and the Turam that pump 
electricity into the ground via a
mile long grounded cable… an artificial electrical field … a loop cmpleted via the rock.  Electricity forced
into the overburden  and rock  beneath my feet.  An anomaly is a blip.  ff the background
readings are 20 let’s say…just an imaginary number.   And  all around the readings on my
console are 20 then nothing is found.  If however the console readings suddenly  jump to 30 or
40 or 50 over a particular location then we have an anomaly.  We have something odd…maybe
we have a pocket of chalcopyrite.  Maybe we have a  mine. Maybe we have nothing which
is true most of the time  Geophysical  prospectors are dreamers as much as gold  banners
were in the Yukon.  Must ask Dr. Paterson how many mines he has found.

But the area east of Bunmahon has already been a mine in the 18th and 19th centuries.  Miners from 
Cornwall lived here.. .They blasted and dug their way down into the bowels of the earth extricating
lumps of copper ore.  They blasted there way under the sea for hundreds of feet.
When the ocean  leaked into the depths of the mine, pumps were kept going to
keep the stopes  open.  Once down  deep they hammered chunks  of ore free from the rock 
and  had these chunks hauled up to the light of  day where they were processed into copper
post, pans, wire…mostly wire.   Copper wire carries that mystery of mysteries called electricity.

If  the Knockmahon mine  was mined out then  why are we here.  we are here in hope that the
Knockmahon mine overlooked seams  of chalcopyrite.   Nineteenth century mining was less 
sophistcated.  We could do better.  Arrogance.

Bunmahon was once a boom town with 21 pubs and a population of hundreds, perhaps thousands.
All  dependent upon the riches processed from seams  of  copper.  In 1960 only two pubs survived
Kriwin’s was  the Catholic pub and across the road was the much  smaller Anglican pub.  It surprised
me to discover that drinking beer and sipping whisky was considered a religious addiction.

The social life in Kirwin’s was focused on a dart board.  But most patrons came to drink
beer…pints of  Guinness principally.  Our social life initially centred  around games
of pinochle played in our suite of  rooms.  Hogan and Stam  seemed content 
playing cards.  I went along with them for a while but soon found that isolating
ourselves  from the community was rather stand offish.   

A man approached us first evening.  “would  there be any work I can do for you fellows?”
And so began our hiring program.   Eventually we hired most of the villagers and many living
in cottages on nearly forgotten gravel trails where once there were streets in better times.

Wednesday June 15, 1960

“Rose early for a fine Irish  breakfast.  The Kennedy house is cold.  Unpacked the 
Ronka instrument and test operated it along the roadway.  The machine did not
work!  What was I to do? Had that sinking feeling.  We have flown thousands of
miles…sent crates equipment…made promises…and then find  the machine
does not work.  My fault?  So I Spent afternoon checking connections and  found break  in 
a cable connector.  Fixed it.  Amazed  at myself.  Went to lumberyard and ordered
1,000 stakes  for linocutting crew.   Stake every 50 feet for readings.  We  planned
a  grid  for Turam readings once equipment arrives.  Meanwhile we will use the
Ronka.   Ocean waves are huge today.  Mrs  Kennedy laid  out a grand supper for us.
Played pinochle all evening with Stam and Hogan.”

Thursday  June  16, 1960

“Heavy fog this  morning…damn cold without proper clothing. Poppies grow wild  
everywhere.  John Hogan and John Stam wanted  to go to some kind  of special 
Catholic  Mass today but the car would not start.  I took the Ronka and worked
the whole  day  doing 62stations, 3 lines, dual frequency.   Surprised  by the 
number of  old  mine shafts here and there across the fields.  Dangerous…open.
One big shaft is being used as a garbage dump recently filled  with huge pile of
glass milk bottles.  Strange they were not saved…risky to rescue  any. Lots
of  donkeys and horses…thatched grooves. Bunmahon has two couches one
of  which is closed and  cemented up.  Protestant.  For some strange reason  
Mrs. Kennedy told me about a local author (female) who wrote ‘dirty’ books
about Ireland but the books are banned in Ireland.  The Priest says ‘burn
them!”  But she never said the book title.  People approach us everywhere
for jobs.  I saw a badger today.  The brier patches  are nasty…thorny…pierce
flesh.  After plotting results we played  pinochle all evening.  Seems we could
be doing something more interesting.”




Friday June 17, 1960

“Oh what a beautiful morning…Oh, what a beautiful day!  Well, things did not
quite work out that way.  T he morning, yes…beautiful. The afternoon…not so great.
While  busy staking the intervals I fell headlong into a six  foot deep briar (gorse)
patch filled gully.  Ripped  skin on arms  and tore my pants.  Lay there for
15 minutes swearing…every word I knew and then some.  Face down surrounded
by thorns making each  move torture.  Survived.  A learning situation.  Managed
to get 2,400 feet of survey data from the Ronka.  Later I phoned Timlin in Dublin.
The Turam crates  have arrived but is currently getting customs clearance. Who
knows how long that will take.  Got letters from home but none from Marjorie.
Drove to lumberyard at Kill to order long pickets…short ones no use.  Then drove
on to Waterford to make insurance was in place. Bought socks at 50 cents a pair.
Then dropped in to Doolan’s Bar.  Doolan himself was there.  Doolan’s was 
 100 years old…current Doolan must be son.  Noted many beggars on the streets
of Waterford.  Drove back to Bunmahon to meet the local police  officer just to
let him know what we would  be doing.   Herds of  cattle on the road…sheep as
well…then donkeys and  wagons.   Made it back to Kennedy’s  in time for supper
and pinochle.  We are being approached by men needing work constantly.”

END PART TWO:  BUNMAHON JOB IN IRELAND


Posted on

Fwd: EPISODE 61: UNFORGFETTABLE SJUMMER 1960….13 days in DUBLIN, IRELAND THEN SOUTH TO THE KNOCKMAHON MINE SITE




EPISODE 61   SUMMER 1960…SENT TO IRELAND TO SEE IF AN ANCIENT MINE COULD 
BE REOPENED.  

alan skeoch
June 7, 2020

       Too Long?  I know that.  Stick with me…the job will get interesting.

       I was 21 years old when I wrote this journal.  I am now 81.  Please  keep that in mind and try to imagine
       yourself at that age.  Dr. Norman Paterson, geophysicist with Hunting Technical and Exploration
      Services put a big responsibility on my shoulders.  The Irish contract…to see if  an ancient copper
      mine at Knockmahon, County Waterford, Southern Ireland, could be reopened.  Why me? Simple
      answer was the I knew how to operate the Turam, a sophisticated instrument in the search for
     copper mineralization.  I was just a kid…as you will see.  A lonely kid in Dublin.
     They gave me 200 pounds expense
    money never expecting I would have to live  in Dublin for 13 days.  But I managed…thanks to
    the Guinness Brewery, meat pies and the generosity of the Irish. I was lonely. I worried that I would cost
   the company too much so lived as frugally as possible. Some of the entries
    you will read may seem humdrum.  That’s because  you are no longer 21 years old.


This is my journal…the beginning  of a great adventure.

IN DUBLIN’S FAIR CITY

alan Skeoch
Journal June 1 to June 13, 1960
(No one predicted I would have a two week holiday in Dublin)

This is the ancient Knockmahon copper mine on the south coast of Ireland.  That
was my destination in 1960 but it would take 13 more days to get there. Meanwhile
I lived in Dublin.


Dublin, quite a city.  Circumstances prolonged my stay in Dublin so let me give you a short impression.
First thing is the city smells…Jacob’s cookie factory, Guinness 62 acre brewery, Tea shops and horses. The
smell is intoxicating.  The main street, O’Connell Street is wide and busy and for the most part happy in spite
of bullet holes deliberately left to remind Irish people of the ‘time of the troubles’.   The people are super
friendly…policemen who paid my bus fare, citizens who helped me find my way, and one family…the Behan’s,
who sort of adopted me.   Lots of pubs to visit.  Lots of meat pies and sweet rolls to eat.  Trees!! Lots of them
and a huge 700 acre park near the city centre.  Problems?  Of course.  Some obviously deranged people
here and there.  Violence?  Never had trouble except one incident that I foolishly precipitated myself.
To top the visit off, I was able to see The Quiet Man, the charming John Wayne, Maureen Ohara, and’
Barrie Fitzgerald movie about an Ireland that seemed mythical but turned out to be true.  Some Irish might
resent the stereotypes  but I thoroughly enjoyed them with no expectations they would be part of
my experience on the Bunmaahon job.  But so much happened that was similar.   Not that I  felt I
was  John Wayne.  I was however a North American stepping into a cultural milieu of which I was
unfamiliar.

MYJOURNAL:  I thought it was lost until by good fortune in April, 2018, I found it among some old  books in the cellar.  Quite amazing detail.


JUNE 1, 1960


Smooth flight across to Ireland with Air Lingus.  No one there to meet me so I can do whatever I please I guess.
Dublin is  a beautiful city with throngs  of people on OConnell Street.  Friendly.  Girls are very pretty.  Visited
the art gallery and then the museum like a normal  tourist.  Had to remind myself that I was not a tourist .
Found offices of Arbuckle – Smith and Company only to discover our Turam shipment had not arrived yet.
Called Barrie Nichols in Toronto to let him know there will be a delay then went shopping for shirt and shoes.
Supper was no good. Toured Gresham Green.  Called  Mrs.  Behan who  invited me out to their house 
tomorrow when Kevin Behan gets back from Italy. Very tired.  Fell to sleep three times during the day. Being
alone is not that enjoyable.  Need other people to make life really interesting but it looks like I will
be stuck here in Dublin for some time.  No point in heading south the County Waterford and  village of
Bunmahon without all our crates of instruments. Toured Gresham Green.







Huntec had booked  me into the high class Gresham Hotel expecting my stay in Dublin would be short.
But our crates of equipment did not arrive for nearly two weeks.  The Gresham was fancy and expensive
.  NO one told me the breakfasts were included in the room price.  I skipped breakfast
for a week to save the company money as my expense check was only 200 pounds…not enough
for me to stay at the Gresham so after a week I found a  cheap hotel in Clontarf, the Hollybrook, where
I seemed to be the only guest and the staff made it clear my breakfast as  included.  Even then by the
end of my stay in Dublin the money was  almost gone.









June 2, 1960

I woke up late so  skipped breakfast and walked to the Department of Justice to get my work clearance.  Had to prove I was doing
a job that nn Irish person could not do.  Lots of unemployment here.  Looks like my training on the Turan E.M. unit has put me in a
special  spot.  Few people know how to run it…and it is quite complicated…motor generator, base line a mile or so long, two receiving 
coils with 100 for separation,  a console, picketed lines running 3,000 feet from the base line at right angles, etc.  Had to explain
this  to an official.  Tough situation.  Never expected to be grilled.



        


After that I took a bus to the the Guinness Brewery at St. James Gate, Since I had no bus fare the chap beside me paid my fare.
Guinness is the national drink of Ireland, unless you are a non-drinker.  What a rare privilege to see this massive brewery in operation.
They even have big draught horses harnessed to wagons loaded with barrels of Guinness to be delivered to pubs in Dublin.  The smell
of the horses and the Guinness is wonderful to me.  The tour included a pile of Guinness post cards featuring men lifting bull dozers
or pulling beer wagons with the horses as passengers. Humourous.   And the end of the tour was best. We all got a full pint of Guinness…
my first.  I wasn’t to struck on the black liquid at first but soon overcame that problem.  Seems a tourist can have as much as he or she
wants but I stuck to one pint.  I should have eaten breakfast. Felt a bit woozy…warm and woozy.  Not staggering.

Ah, yes, Guinness is the national drink of Ireland… made from barley, hops, yeast and water.  That does not sound complicated.  
Why is the beer black?  Roasted barley rather than malted which makes a thick creamy head on the pint.


 The thickness of the head is achieved by passing the beer through
nitrogen…smaller bubbles result.  Guinness is so thick that each pint needs  time to settle.  
Is Guinness really ‘good for you’ as the advertising says on billboards across  Dublin?  Some call Guinness ‘a meal  in a cup’ …198 calories
per pint …less than a pint of milk.  Drinkers  of Guinness get an ‘enhanced feeling of well being’ , an advertising statement frowned
on by the government.  Created in 18th century by Arthur Guinness
and apparently one of the most consumed beers worldwide.  Guinness does seem to be good for drinkers though…lots of healthy 
antioxidants…like fruits and vegetables…slow deposit of bad  cholesterol on artery walls. Or so the story is told.  My ‘meal in cup’
certainly replaced breakfast and gave me an enhanced feeling that the world around me is good.  So there you have it…obviously

       I took the tour to heart.


This  is  high tea at the Gresham Hotel where I stayed for the first week.  I did not know
Breakfast was included in the room rate so  skipped  breakfast for that week.  Fancy
hotel but very unfriendly.



Bought some tomatoes  and meat pie to eat in my room while reading a book. Sort of lonely feeling…needed
a pint of Guinness I guess but afraid to go into a pub alone.  Not fear just felt being solitary would be uncomfortable.
Contacted a sign painter as Ministry of Justice insisted I have a road sign saying Danger in both English
and Irish.  This will take some time to do…will pay extra to get faster work done.  Decided to go back to
the Guinness factory , now have bus tokens, but found place closed.  Got some good pictures though.

I was startled by a crazy woman in middle of the cobbled street near St. James Gate.  She was covered in
blood while singing and dancing and jumping around.  Very sad.  She even relieved herself by lifting her skirt
and pissing without care.  Most on lookers did not stop…treated  her as if a normal situation.  I kept walking 
as well.  Returned to my room to finish off the meat pie.

Phoned down to The Kennedy’s to see if  gear had arrived.  No luck.  Our crew of three will be staying with
the Kennedy family in Bunmahon.  

Then I bought some flowers and took a bus to the Behan home.  Mrs. Behan poured tea and a little later
Kevin Behan came bursting on the scene.  He had just landed from Italy.  Grand fellow.  He took me to a
pub for another Guinness.  Driving back he tried to run over a ‘teddy boy’…or at least to scare him.  ‘Teddy
boy’s are street gang members I assume.    Then he drove me home to my hotel room.

I Was quite surprised at Kevin’s hatred of these Teddy Boys.  Seemed just like rock and roll kids to me…couple 
of my friends had the greased  down haircuts although most of them had brush cuts and  were not nearly as 
fancy  dressed as the Irish Teddy Boys who tried to wear the fancy clothing of Edwardian England.  Some Teddy
Boys did run in tough gangs though.   I think Kevin Behan’s hatred was triggered by the Notting Hill race Riots in
London where some 300 Teddy Boys targeted black people using iron bars and butcher knives.  That was really bad
but most Teddy Boys were just mild rebels like a lot of kids in my high school days back in Canada.  I kept my
mouth shut.  Maybe Kevin had a bad experience. To me those Teddy Boys and Teddy Girls wereThe kind of kids  that loved 
the movie Blackboard Jungle.  I did not tell Kevin that I skipped school one afternoon just to see the movie.
Gutless.




Teddy Boys, so names by their Edwardian dress, were seen as rebels.  Really they looked
much like the Rock and Roll kids so common in Canada  in 1950’s and 1960’s.


June 3, 1960

I woke up at 9 and made my so called breakfast…crumpets and Quosh, an orange  fizzy drink.  Then went to see Mr. O;brien about maps
and he in turn sent me to the Ordinance Survey Office in Phoenix Park.  What an immense place… with so many cattle I could
not count them.,,and a herd of wild deer that had been there since the 17th century Got maps of old mines in western part of County Waterford. 
Not sure they will be of any use at all. 
Spent rest of  day
walking through PhoenixPark. A bunch of soldiers were lawn bowling at one spot.  Then visited the Dublin Zoo.  Wish I hadn’t because 
when I put the lens of my camera  close to the monkey enclosure one big monkey jumped  at me with sexual intent.  

What generous people…an off duty policeman paid my fare back to my hotel.  Bought sausage rolls, buns and tomatoes
for my supper…alone in my room…saving company expenses.  Phoned  Mr. Timlin, our shipment of crates from Canada have arrived in Liverpool.  Went to a movie after which
I was cornered and badgered by a family of beggars on a side street…five them…really dirty.  Dangerous.  My nice feeling of independence is turning into
loneliness.  Wrote letter to Marjorie and went to bed.



Phoenix Park has large herd of semi wild deer that have been there from the 18th century




Streets of Dublin, in 1960, still had presence of horses.  This man was just leading four of them casually
down the street…note evidence of Horse manure indicating this was not an unusual sight.  a hundred years
ago these horses numbered in the thousands.  i.e. There were 100,000 horses  in London in 1850 and  Dublin
would have about the same.  Dung abounded.  Human escrement was eventually linked

        to outbreaks of  Cholera because water supply was contaminated with manure.


June 4, 1960

Got up late, very late…around noon.Went to bakeshop for my  breakfast (tomatoes, meat pie, crumpets). Spent most of the day absolutely bored.
Phoned  Kevin Behsn and went over to his house in the evening.  Their daughter Yvonne was very cute showing me her pictures.  Kevin and Mrs Behan
took me on the rounds of the local pubs.  Made me feel like home. One pub hd  a creek running through the middle of it, another pub was a castle…ended
evening in fish and chip  store.  I was startled to see so many Presbyterian churches in Dublin…thought all churches would be Catholic.  The I.R.A. had
a rally on O;Connell Street.   Met Joe Malone.  This is a strange summer…first prospecting job with so many people
around me.  Not the usual  wilderness  of black flies  and endless  boreal forest. All the Catholics I have met so far have been quite wonderful.
I expected hostility but found none so far.

June 5, 1960

Rose early and phoned Dr. John Stam in Holland. He will join me in Bunmahon once our crates get here.  Went to the Gresham  Green Unitarian Church
where Rev. Hicks was quite funny and very British.  Then he spoke about the absence of national Birth control as a cause of war… citing the Irish lady who had 24 children and 
her daughter who had 15.  I suppose that could be a criticism of Ireland’s Catholic majority and the church influence.  But I think his real point was that
overpopulation of planet earth would lead to the three horseman of the apocalypse…famine, plague and war.  

Caught a bus to Kevin and Ronnie’s house where Yvonne was very friendly crawling all over me.  Then we went for a very nice drive in the country.
Many old  castles.  Had ice cream. Mrs. Behan had a nice supper during which Yvonne gave me a carnation.  Yvonne is 6 or 7 years old.  Then Kevin
took me to a pub where we discussed the Irish Republican Army…kevin concluded that “the poison is being drawn out’.  But there are still machine guns
on the border.  I took a picture of the family.  Kevin informed me I would be wise to find a better hotel.  Why? Because my fancy hotel had never informed
me that Breakfast was included in the bill…I had been skipping breakfast or just having another meat pie just to save Huntec and Dr. Paterson some 
money.  My stupidity I guess.  Hotel was so high class  that nn one spoke to me at all.  ‘Snob hotel’


What wonderful people…Kevin and Ronnie Behan.  They sort of adopted me for my stay in Dublin.  Their oldest, Yvonne, was  really
a little charmer.  She was so glad to see me each visit that her greetings made me feel embarrassed.  The Behans made such
an impression that Marjorie and I named  our first born Kevin.

June 6, 1960

Today is a national holiday in Ireland.   Took a bus to Malahide and walked back to hotel.  A farmer struck up a conversation in which he said
“Irish people are the laziest people on the earth”…strange comment, perhaps  made as a joke or maybe to draw out an anti-Irish comment from me.
Got caught in deluge of rain while walking to Kevin’s house.  Soaked.  Yvonne and family very glad to see me.  Sincere.  Took a drive to the North Harbour
which was charming except for the fact some man committed suicide there.  Went to a pub then returned to the Behan  home for ’tea’ which  is a misnomer
for a full supper…then watched BBC television for a while before taking whole family to the movie ‘Who Was That Lady’

On Kevin’s advice I made plans to move to the Hollybrook Hotel in Clontarf…cheaper, friendly, with full breakfast.

Picked up a strange fact…Ireland has the lowest marriage rate in the world.

June 7, 1960

Received word  from McNabb and  Timins that the Ronka has arrived but no sign of the Turam.  Moved my bag to the Hollybrook Hotel
on the Howth Road … had  a nice pastoral setting and comfortable old pub kind of registration desk.  Decided to tour the Guinness  Brewery
again.  “Will you be wanting another pint, lad?” said  the man who joined the tour but did not drink.  “Temperance…call us Pioneers over here.”
Later I decided to line up at Dublin University to see the Book of Kells, an illustrated manuscript.  

The BOOK OF KELLS…

An unfortunate event happened while standing in line to see the Book of Kells.  Mostly my fault. I tapped the shoulder of the man in front of me and asked:

“Are you Irish?”
“No, Scottish…visiting.”
“Is this University secular?”
“What do  you mean by that?”…  he said  in rather angry manner
“I mean is it attached to the church or the state?”
“What do you mean by that?”…  he got more angry, I could not see why.
“Just wondered.”
“Are you Catholic?”… now he was really angry, perhaps disturbed. 
“Born Catholic but not so any more.”  Bad  comment on my part…a mistake…like waving a red flag in
front of a charging bull. 

At that remark the guy went wild.  Seemed to want a fight.  I decided best course of action was to get
the hell away from him but he followed me yelling who knows what for his accent was thick. A policeman
rescued me and advised I take a  long ride on the bus and  keep  away from throwaway comments about
religion.

Why did I say that remark…Why trigger animosity?  It was  a  mistake, of course, but I was thinking back
to the St. Skeoch legend.

 Our Skeoch relatives, ancient kind, were Catholic.  Most Scots were in the early centuries.  And there was 
a  connection with the Book of Kells and the Scottish Isle of Iona.  A misty connection…likely  false.  A connection even more ancient than
the 10th century Book of Kells.  At some point I had heard or read that St. Skeoch was one  of the 12 disciples
of St, Columba  when he left (fled?) Ireland  in the sixth century for the Scottish Island of  Iona.  At that time
the use of the term saint was loosely interpreted…i.e. without the approval  of Rome.  Was St. Skeoch one
of the twelve?  Rome had no records but there are places  in Scotland where this St. Skeoch is mentioned.
Maybe our family legend about the rescue of two boys on the Bloody fields of Bannockburn was true.  And
the St. Skeoch convent could have been a St. Skeoch monastery.   All perhaps nonsense since much relies
on hearsay.  All this was in my mind as lined up to see the Book of Kells.  Were our roots  as much Catholic
as Presbyterian. So there are the  roots of my throwaway  comment that I was  ‘born Catholic but gave it up.’

What was I really doing?  Just putting in time awaiting our high tech survey equipment.  The Book of
Kells was fascinating…a  masterpiece of art that survived the Viking raids.

The Book of Kells is one of the finest illustrated manuscripts in the world. 340 folio pages. Written in Latin and illustrated
 around 800 A.D.  when Most people could  not read.   Sometimes called the Book of Columba 
because St Columba and  subsequent Columban monks did much of the work between the sixth and ninth centuries.









Back to my Journal:  June 7, 1960

Bad weather barreling in from the sea.  Wrote a  letter to Barrie Nicholls and John Hogan.  Hogan is a geologist
representing our client. I am worried that the delay in equipment arrival will  cost the  project a lot of money.
Maye I am the only one worried…hope so . Hotel resident  Joe and Moira invited me to have a drink with them
which made for a perfect evening.

June 8, 1960

Arose late after the party last night with Joe and Moira.  Went downtown and bought field books, electric tape and signs
to alert local people to dangers of our project, particularly the base line wire and generator.  Surprised when a  cyclist
fell off his bike into the Liffey canal.  Ambulance came fast. The German sailors and officers from the Graf Spee are
in  Dublin. Since I am the only guest in the Hollybrook Hotel I feel like the lord of this ancient manor house and get
treated as such.  Nice. The expense money if going awfully fast.

John Hogan made a surprise arrival so we finally got to discuss the project.  I phoned Mrs. Behan and then went to  show
and a dance with John Hogan.  One girl at the dance must have crossed herself 40 times while praising the I.R.A.
An interesting evening.  Washed my clothes and went to bed.

June 9, 1960

UP early and had first breakfast wince I arrived in Ireland…hotel dining room.
Sent most of the gear with John Hogan who was driving down to Bummahon … the project site in western
part of County Waterford… Gave Mr. O’Brien a quick briefing the Turam operation.  Checked with Arbuckle but
Turam has still not arrived.  

John Hogan and I toured the Guinness Brewery … my third visit.  Then we had a lousy meal at the Temperance
Hotel. Then visited head office of Irish National Sweepstakes and bought 5 shillings tickets for Marjorie.  Walked
back to hotel then walked to the Behan home where kids were really cute.  Yvonne and Denise kept bringing me
corn flakes on the dog’s plate.  Yvonne  seems to like my lap.  Other kids Anella  and Murial also cute.  Then Kevin.
Ronnie (Mrs. Behan) went to Houth for a drink.  A drunk woman was entertaining if a little pathetic.  Ronnie ironed
my shirt afterwards then Kevin drove me back to the Hollybrook.

June 10, 1960

Had  big breakfast … bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes….topped off with a rack of cold toast and marmalade.  What should
I do for the rest of the day now that John Hogan has gone south?  Tour!  Dublin is a  city of wonderful smells.  Guinness
Brewery covers  over 60 acres making lots of beer.  But there is also a strong smell of cookies being baked at the Jacobs
factory.  So I followed my nose and had a tour.  250 employees mostly girls who gave me plenty of attention…including
whistling and touching.  Good time if a bit intimidating.  


The Quiet Man is great entertainment…surprised me that much of the 1920 Irish stereotypes turned  out to be real in our little world  of Bunmahon in 1960.
The Dark Time of the Tourbles was downplayed.


“Alan, do not miss the chance to see “The Quiet Man” while here in Ireland,” said Kevin and  Yvonne Behan.
So I went alone to see the film featuring John Wayne, Maureen Ohara and Barrie Fitzgerald.  What a grand movie.
My work site in Bunmahon could not possibly be as joyful and humorous as the movie but I wish it were so.

Dublin has an under class.  I noticed  and felt sorry for an old one-eyed woman who was  having bread snd tea while
I had a steak with all the trimmings.

I am picking up the Irish lingo.  Today  was described as a ‘soft’ day which means it was pouring rain.

Got an urgent message from Arbuckle, Smith and Company saying the crates had not arrived in Liverpool yet. What the
hell is going on?  They told me the crates were there the other day.

June 11, 1960

Getting better sleep now that I am having big breakfast.  Afterwards I went down to Arbuckle to pick up the part of shipment
that has arrived…i.e. the Ronka E.M. unit.  I will take it south on Monday. Sent telegram to Dr. Stam in Amsterdam and wrote
a long letter to Barrie Nichols in Canada.  My money is very short…less than 20 pounds left. Kevin asked me up to tea (i.e.supper
in Irish lingo) then Kevin took Ronnie and me to movie “Once More with Feeling” (no  good). After we took girls home Kevin took
me to meet his mother snd father…all  are in the car business.

June  12, 1960

Wind is blowing from the sea…smashing windows.  I walked to Clontarf Presbyterian Church where Rev. Moore greeted me warmly
and  asked me to join him for s few minutes in the vestry  Guest speaker was a methodist, Rev. Livingston who spoke about ‘Happy 
Harry the Hare” which sounded weird at first but made sense in the end. 

Then another day with the Behan family.  I would not intrude normally but they really made me feel so welcome that to refuse
would  be an insult.  Ronnie prepared another great meal. Yvonne was full of beans as usual…crawling all over me.  We drove
to Houth and stopped at Claremont for a couple of draughts of Guinness…back for ‘tea’ and then to the movie ‘sweet smell of success’
This was my last day in Dublin.  Sad farewell to the Behan family.


Brendan Behan

Brendon Behan and  Kevin Behan were not related.  Two very different people who shared one common wonderful trait.  They loved  people and
an afternoon in their company was an  honour.  

Kevin Behan was my host for the Dublin interlude.  He and his family opened their hearts  and doors to me.  I cannot explain why they did this except to say
the they loved people, loved Ireland and waned to share this love with a young 21 year old  kid like me.  One result was the naming of our first born child, Kevin,
in honour of Kevin Behan.  Sadly, we never told that to the Behan family.

Brendon Behan

Brendon Behan was a man of the 1950’s snd 1960’s.  He had strong opinions even as a teen ager joining
the Irish Republican Army at 14 years of age.  He was an ardent republican. Regarded the English
monarchy with disdain.  That said, he became very popular and his quick wit amused not just the Dublin Irish 
but the literary world in general.   His most famous play is titled “The Quare Fellow” which is set
in a  prison in the heart of Dublin.  “Quare” is Irish for “Queer.”   Brendon  Behan’s one liners
were quoted again and again by people with both a sense of humour and a knowledge that there
is a dark side to the human condition.

“I am a drinker with writing problems.”

“Ah, bless you sister, may all your children be bishops.”

“When I came back to Dublin I was court mortised in my absence
and sentenced to death in my absence
So I said they could shoot me in my absence.”

“There  is no such thing as bad publicity
Except your own obituary.”

“The most important things to do in the world are to
get something to eat
get something to drink
and get someone to love you.”

Monday June 13  LAST DAY IN DUBLIN

How can I best describe this day?   Like a dam that has suddenly broken free…like  A clock that is out of control  and time spins free …like a race begun once the gun is fired.
Suddenly everything speeded up and I would be gone before the sun set.
This was  be my last day in Dublin.  I did not know that.  I did not know that events would move so fast that by evening I would be in the villsge
of Bunmahon nestled  in an ancient place with the ruins of the Knockmahon mine brooding black and foreboding as the sun set.



        

My first view of Knockmahon where i would have adventures not forgotten in 60 years.



Events of that fine Dublin day:

Began packing at 8.30…then phoned Arbuckle…our shipment had arrived. Dr. Stam coming by air…Hogan ready to pick us up in Waterford.
time to get s haircut then caught bus to the airport…watched  KLM flight land and Dr. John  Stam cleared  customs. Briefed  him on Irish  officials I had
met…back to hotel for dinner and beer. Back to American Express…then over to see Mr. O’brien.  Took luggage to train station…first class tickets to Waterford
where John Hogan met us with his Fiat…drove to Bunmahon on the edge of the sea..passed the ruins of the Knockmahon mine standing alone on the
edge of steep cliffs that fell down to the sea.  Empty.  No  houses.  No  living things.  Then road  dipped down to the Mahon River and the village of Bunmahon
where we were to be based for the duration of the survey.  Met Mrs. Kennedy who would be our landlady and Irish ‘manageress’ … an expert on the inner
workings of this sliver of Irish  society.  Very Catholic…My room has three Christian statues and  a large picture of  Jesus with his heart showing…hangs above my bed.
Surprised to get my mail…letters from Marjorie and  some.  Jan Stam said he was pleased with my handling of the situation.  He would  be in charge from now 
on and would do the interpretation of the notes from my field book each day.  John Hogan was a geologist and the Denison Mines company.  Three of us.  But
many more will be hired.  Eventually I hired the whole village.  More of that later.



“





Posted on

EPISODE 60 FROGS…THOUSANDS…AND THEN THERE WERE NONE. WHAT HAPPENED. HOW DID THEY KNOW?

  • EPISODE  60:  FROGS BY  THE HUNDREDS, THOUSANDS…THEN THERE WERE NONE.  WHAT HAPPENED?

  • SETTING:  JULY 1980…SKEOCH FARM PONDS


IN 1980 when I took this photo there were so many young frogs that my camera could not
focus.  Then in 1981 most were gone, never to return

alan skeoch
June 2020

“Never seen anything like it, Marjorie…come over and take a look?”
“Are those baby frogs?  Must be a thousand  of them.”
“I’ve  witnessed big frog populations here all 
my life but never this many.  Thousands
sitting there looking at us.”

SKEOCH  FARM PONDS 1981

“We have no frogs.”
“A  few  are still in the ponds but very few.”
“What is  happening?”
“Something bad…very bad.  A whole
pile of creatures depend on those
frogs.”
“Snakes, Blue herons, fish, sapping
turtles, painted turtles, other frogs
(frogs are cannibalistic).”
“They will all disappear.”
“What is happening?”

SKEOCH  FARM PONDS  2020

“I have not seen a leopard frog yet this
year..”
“A few may be there though…something
splashes  and  wiggles away among the
weeds.  Must be a  few frogs.”
“But there were thousands”
“What is  happening?”
“Some scientists say we are in
the midst of the sixth mass extinction
and that the extinction are best noticed
with frogs”
“Do you believe that?”
“I do not know what to believe…but
what I  like to believe is that the 
disappearance is some kind of
natural cycle.”.
“Something is definitely wrong down
at the bottom of the food chain.”
“Can we do anything to help the
Leopard Frogs?”
“What can we do?”

“You want to hear something weird?
Back in 1980…when those thousands
of little frogs sat there looking at me…
I had the distinct feeling they were
trying to tell  me something..a kind
of  plea for help.”

“What did you do?”
“Nothing.  the only help given
was  by Marjorie when she pulled
a still living Leopard  Frog  from
the gaping mouth of a big garter
snake.”
“Lots of snakes, are there?”
“Not anymore.  They used to 
breed  in the greenhouse big
time.  Not any more.”
“A single blue heron landed in
the pond this year…and then 
took off.  No frogs to eat.”
“What can we do?”
“That is a very good question.”


  • WHAT HAPPENED  TO THE LEOPARD FROGS?

  • Although not recognized at the time, this event is thought to portend the worldwide amphibian decline that began about 1970 and continues to the present day. While many leopard frog populations have survived and returned to near normal levels, the leopard frogs of the Upper Midwest have a high incidence of developmental malformations.
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/61/Northern_Leopard_Frog.JPG/440px-Northern_Leopard_Frog.JPG 2x” data-file-width=”2816″ data-file-height=”2112″>


Why is the northern leopard frog endangered?
  • The northern leopard frog is experiencing threats from habitat loss, disease, non-native species, pollution and climate change that individually and cumulatively have resulted in population declines, local extinctions and disappearance from vast areas of its historical range in the western U.S. and Canada.




Posted on

EPISODE 59 SCARED…REALLY SCARED…AND ONLY MYSELF TO BLAME (ALASKA, 1959)

EPISODE 59    SCARED…REALLY SCARED…AND ONLY MYSELF TO BLAME


alan skeoch
June 4, 3030

I have  done  my share  of stupid things so far but one
of the worst was on the prospecting job on the tundra of  western Alaska
in the summer of 1959.

We  had a day with not much to do for some reason or other.
Our camp consisted of a line of dark tents, a cook shack, and
two S52 (Sikorsky) helicopters.  We had lots of  daylight…sun
never really got far below the horizon.   We were a hundred of so
miles  inland from the Bering Sea…even more distant
was the Aleutian Island chain where the Japanese had faked an
invasion  of North America.   This remans an empty land.  Startling.
Fascinating.

This  is  Alaska…flat tundra for hundreds of miles, but occasionally cut by river and  creek valleys which you can see in the distance.
Thousands and thousands of years ago when the climate was colder, great hulking Mastodons and even larger  Mammoths   lumbered
across the land bridge that is now the Bering Sea because the seas were lower around the world and the ice caps of the globe
were larger.  It was thoughts like this that drew me to the tundra.  Historic.  No, Prehistoric.

TUNDRA

Tundra as far as the eye could see in any direction.  Very hard to get
lost I reasoned even if 30 miles or more away from camp.
So I grabbed A good book…I think it was Steinbeck’s East 
of Eden.  Then waited for the lead pilot to greet us like
he did every morning with his cheerful “Let’s Get Fucking Airborne”

One helicopter began the slow  “Whomp…Whomp…Whomp”
Then got up to speed.

“Can you drop me out on the tundra?”
“Sure…no equipment , how come?”
“Not needed today.”

I jumped in over the pontoon and we were airborne heading
north west.  Eventually the S52 would swing due west towards
the Bering Sea where we had a fuel drop.  Forty Five gallon drums
of Diesel.

It was a beaUtiful day around  mid-August.  The bugs were not nearly
as bad by then because  the birds had been feasting for months on the
little bastards.  So many birds nested in the tundra that we had to be
careful walking.

“Drop me here’” About 20 or 25 miles from camp.   It would  be
very hard to get lost since we could see great distances on the flat
treeless tundra.

My plan was simple.  I would find a nice folded slope on the tundra and tuck
myself into a depression…out of the wind…then spend a couple of hours
reading Steinbeck before walking back to camp.  That would take  a full
day…and  be delightful.   The Humble Oil Company of Texas to whom we
were subcontracted had armed us with big 30-06 rifles but we never felt
the need to carry a rifle on the open tundra so we stacked the rifles at
the helcopter drop sites.   This day I did  not even take the rifle. Too damn
heavy.

All worked  out quite well for an hour or two.  Then I got a bit worried. Suppose
a Kodiak bear did  happen to be crossing this great expanse of flat land.
It would get my smell I supposed and maybe want to check me out.  What the hell
could I do?   Climb a tree?  That’s a laugh.  

The only trees were down in the creek and river valleys that criss crossed the vast
flatness of the tundra.    Those valleys and creek bottoms were Kodiak country because
they had easy access to thousands  of big salmon heading up river to spawn.  And there
were lots of dead salmon floating down.  Up top on the tundra I felt safe.   Safe?  Felt
safe until I realized I was  all alone.  Alone!  No one even knew I was out here.  I had
walked miles  from the drop site.  I was alone.

That’s my partner Bill Morrisson, doing some fishing down in a creek bottom near our camp.  These deep incisions in the
tundra are where the Kodiak bears feast on salmon.  Around camp we were safe as there were so many guns.  Thirty men armed with 
rifles and pistols.  Disgusting.  In Canada, geophysical prospectors like us never carried  weapons. “Why are we not armed?”, I asked
on one  job.  “No guns for good reason…so we cannot shoot each other”.  In ten years prospecting this  was the only job
where there were guns.   




I had  been told  that the bears stay away from humans because we smell bad.
Hope that was true.  Must be true.  No bath for weeks except occasional dip
in tundra meltwater pools.

Then my mind shifted from Steinbeck to Kodiak bears   When alone, the mind
plays tricks…fears grow.  I decided
it might be best to start the journey back to camp which  was miles
away but visible.

The two big Sikorskys seemed busy for I could see them flying back
and forth far in the distance.   One even flew near me but I would be invisible
in my military bush  clothing.  And I did  not want to bother them.

To get back to camp I had to cross a couple of small creeks that were cut
into the tundra but no big river.   There was  some brush which made me a  little
nervous but not enough to raise the hackles  on my neck.

I  got back to camp.  And there was trouble.  “Where the he’ll have you been?”
“We found you missing.”  “Sent out the S-52’s”  “Heard you were dropped somewhere”

My partner, Bill Morrisson, sitting with feet dangling from a Sikorsky helicopter.  Doing what he must have done
the day I decided  to go for a long walk with a good book.  “Why the hell did you do that..got me worried sick.”

“Just reading a book?”
“Well, you are a goddamned fool.”
(True)
Those lectures were nearly as bad as  my slow awareness that spending a few hours
nestled in the trackless wilderness may not have been a good idea.

This story may  seem inconsequential.  Minor blip in life’s journey.  But I think of
it often.  

alan  skeoch
June 5, 2020




And so it ended.  I was chastised by everyone.  Then the whole incident was forgotten as the sun circled along
the horizon and then popped up again.   And the Sikorsky went to sleep.

alan skeoch
June 2020
(western Alaska, about 100 miles  inland from Dillingham, an mostly aboriginal
village, town, on the coast of the Bering Sea.)

Employed by Dr. Norman Paterson
Hunting Technical  and Exploration Services
-Canadian arew —Bill Morrison, Moe Chinery, Dr. John Stam, 
Don Van Every, Ian Rutherford, and  Alan Skeoch
-along with 25 American  diamond  drillers.
Posted on

WE TRIED TO TOUR EUROPE ON FIVE DOLLARS A DAY IN 1965. IT DID NOT WORK WELL.

EPISODE  58:  EUROPE ON FIVE DOLLARS A  DAY…




EPISODE 58    EUROPE ON FIVE DOLLARS A DAY…WE TRIED IT N 1965

alan skeoch
June 2020


I think…no,  I know…the author of EUROPE ON FIVE DOLLARS A DAY…expected us to live like the monks of Ireland once
lived in these stone houses on the West Coast of Ireland, called  the Dingle.  At times our trip to Europe came close to
this kind of existence.


alan skeoch
June 2020

We  were new teachers.  Eric and I taught at
Parkdale C.I.,  while Marjorie taught at Emery Junior
High.  Salary around $6,000 per year.   

There was a book written around 1960 titled “Europe
on $5 a day.”.  In  1965,  Marjorie, my brother Eric and I
decided to give it  a try.  Well, we did it…a whole series
of adventures that might interest readers.  I know it is
ego driven but some of the adventures were universal
like the chilling visit to Dachau and the rescue of a rabbit afflicted
with the poison Mixamatosis and the discovery we could
live on Bulmer’s apple cider and cheese and bread.

Marjorie was a great sport about the whole thing.
She could take the privations and enjoy the adventures.
My brother, Eric, refused to go 50/50 on the expenses which
meant I had to pay 2/3 which I now know was reasonable.
Marjorie was a little disturbed on one day when we did  not
eat at all while crammed into a sleeping car in bunks
that were stacked so  tight that there was little room to breath.


A few choice adventures selected below.    Just keep in mind
that we were all in our 20’s.  I was 27…Marjorie and Eric were 25.
I hope readers can remember those years.  Otherwise you might be
offended.  We were young and foolish and enjoyed life to the fullest.
 Ireland first and last.  We landed at Shannon, west coast of Ireland and headed
south to Bunmahon, the mining village in which I worked five years earlier.
This was our world tour.  Some readers might think the memory would
record great events.  My memory only records small events.

1) CRAWLING THROUGH AN ANCIENT MINE…KNOCKMAHON



“There are ancient adits on the cliff face…we can crawl through them.”
“What’s an adit?”
“A hole punched through to help ventilate the mine.”
“How big a hole?”
“Big enough for us to walk stooped over but in some places
we will have to crawl on our stomachs.”
“Dangerous?”
“Suppose so.  Air is the big danger…running out of air I mean.  When  Barney and
I crawled through these adits we took a candle.   If he candle would not light,
we got the hell out.”
‘What about collapse?”
“Unlikely.  Weak spots would  have collapsed  by now…last used as  a  
mine 100 year ago.”
“Why are we doing this?”
“Just for fun…we will only crawl in a  short way…to the big shaft which
has filled with water from the ocean.  The miners tunnelled out a fair 
distane under the ocean.   They had pumps  to remove the seepage.:
“Alan, this is stupid… I want out.”
“Eric and  I will just crawl a little further…meet out the seashore in 
half hour or less.”
“Stupid thing to do.”
“must admit you are right.”

“Here we are out, Marjorie.  What is that god  awful stink?”
“What  stink?””
“Marjorie  one of those huge rocks where you are waiting is not
a rock…it’s a dead pig that floated in or fell off the cliff.  Bloated.”
“Let’s get out of here”

(And so we did.  Since then the Knockmahon mine has become a tourist spot 
on the Irish South coast called the Copper Trail.  Tours of the inside of the mine
can be arranged using the old  shaft entranceways rather than the adits. I imagine
what we did, is  now forbidden.)


2) CLIMBING AN IRISH MOUNTAIN

“Park the car…we can climb this mountain.”
“Hardly a mountain…full of sheep.”
“But it’s high and rocky and wild.”
“See who can get to the top fastest.”
“Where is Marjorie?”
“About fifty feet below us.”
“See ig  she can play ‘Dodge Ball’”
“Dodge Ball?”
“We can fire sheep dung down there from here.”
“Good idea.”

“Stop…Stop”

“She is good at the game.”
“No contact yet.”



3)  DUBLIN


“Dublin?  What is  there to see?”
“;Loads…Book of Kells, pock marked walls from the Time of the Trouble, O’Connell Street,  Pubs…”
“Let’s do  the Guiness Brewery.”
“Samples are terrific at end  of the tour”
“Look, they use horses  to haul the beer about the City of Dublin.”
“I don’t like beer.”
“Terrific,  Eric and I do.”
“Is this holiday for me as  well as you.”
“Wait until you get on the ferry to cross the Irish Sea.”
“I get sea sick.”   (She did)

(Marjorie enjoyed our tour of the Jameson Distillery much better than the Guinness
Brewery.  Samples.  We were  the only tourists so we got three sample bottles of whiskey each….saved 
them for years.   I think Marjorie enjoyed the barrel making as well.  the barrel maker took a shine to her.
Imagine, we were the
only tourists that day. )

4) LOWER WOOTON FARM  (Remember Eywood?)\


The small white pony  thought it was a human being.  



“Here we are…Lower Wooten Farm, Herefordshire”
“It’s absolutely beautiful…”
“16th century…black and white…protected national treasure.”
“There’s Cyril Griffiths beside the barn.”
“Looks troubled.”

“Alan, good  to see you…and you will be Marjorie and Eric.”
“How are you Cyril.”
“Not good…need both of you in the barn
we have a breached birth.”
“Breached?”
“Calf stuck in the womb.”
“Tell us what to do.”
“We have to pull it out…got rope around the feet…Pull when I say pull.”
“When?”
“When she goes into another contraction…Now…Pull…Pull”
“Jesus, it’s coming but hard.”
“Coming now…Now..”
(And the calf flew through the air…missed me but landed on top of Eric)
“Is it alive?”
“Yes,.”
“”well it landed right on top of me…after brith and all.”
“And this is  my only suit….”

(That happened  just as we got out of the car
at Lower Wooten Farm.  
Rather messy.}

Marjorie and  Nancy Griffiths getting a chicken ready … he hard way…pulling feathers.





5)  EYWOOD

“Granddad must have planted those nectarines trees still flourishing in
one of this intact greenhouse…look at the wooden marker…his name.”
“Percy, do you remember grandad?”
“Yes, I worked for him when I was a young gaffer…my job was to
step and  fetch things…shears, hoes, water.”
“Now you own the place.”
“Yes, and I  want to give you something to remember me by.  Like 
this large terrace cotta flower pot bound together with wire.  the
kind we had back before the Great War.”
“Can we pick it up later…love to have it.”

(I don’t know how we did it but we got the huge clay flower pot on board
our flight home…as big as a bushel basket)



6) THE CHARMING LAKE DISTRICT…STINKS

“Crammed with Tourists…but beautiful.”
“No cheap place to stay.”
“Let’s just buy a couple of post cards and clear out…find a pasture”

“Here, Al, you pay for the post cards, Marjorie and I will wait outside.”
(God awful stink…like sewage…worse.)
“Oh, dear, SOMEONE HAS PASSED BY’” (comment by lady behind me in line to pay).
“Damn them” (whispered to myself)
“Oh, dear, dear, dear.”  (smell was revolting)

(Outside the tourist store Marjorie and Eric were laughing so hard  tears
ran down their faces.  Eric had farted.  I mean a  really ripe fart brought
on by apple cider and cheese, maybe a beer as well.  That fart was  so  bad
that I still remember it 60 years  later.   And what is worse, I was blamed
for the fart by the ladies behind me in the line whose comment was also
memorable.)

“Someone has passed by”


7)  SEA SICK ON A SHIP  THAT HAS NOT MOVED


“I get sea sick, you know.:
“But the ship has not even moved.”
“No matter, I am sea sick.
(and Marjorie was sea sick.  Shows the power of the human mind..

“Dry land at last…”



8)  IRISH HAY STACK…IDEAL 


“Stop the car…back up.”
“Why?”
“Perfect spot for lunch…hay  stack in field with no one around.”
“Unscrew the Bulmer’s, rip up the bread,  cut the cheese.”
(Cut the cheese was a nasty expression in those days)

9) PARIS   

PARIS…”LOOK AT THE BOTTOM OF MY BED”


“Hey, come and look at my bed.”

(We found two inexpensive rooms across  the road from the magnificent
Pantheon where Rouseau and Voltair are buried.  The rooms  were
not as  grand as the Pantheon.
“What?”
“At the bottom of the bed.”
“Nothing there.”
“That’s not possible.”
“What are we supposed to see?”
“Cockraches…I spent the night killing them…put a
whole pile  of them on  the floor at the bottom of
my bed.”
“Nothing there now.”
“You know what that means?”
“Yes…the live cockroaches took the  dead cockroaches away.”
“Why?”
“Certainly not for a funeral.”
“Then why?”
“For a dinner.”

10) PARIS   NASTY ADVENTURE FOR MARJORIE

(Eric and I had ordered a beer in a restaurant beside the Pantheon.
The beer came in  a glass about he size of an egg cup at about the
price of a pint in Ireland.  Nice glass though.  Marjorie had gone
for a haircut on the Parisian Metro.  Turned out not to be a good
idea. We kept the beer glass.)

“There you are.”

(Marjorie came running to our table…breathless…troubled.)

“What’s wrong.”
“I ran all the way here from a distant Metro station..”
“Why?”
“Calm down.”
“ I cannot calm down.”
“What happened?”
“The subway was jammed with people…could hardly move when
it happened.”
“What happened?”
“Bodies pressed tight together.  Man behind me…pressng very close…way too
close.  Bulge.  Pushing against me.  He  was looking the other way but pressing
his thing into my backside.  I was terrified.  Got off the Metro as soon as I could
and  ran  all the way back here.”

(Sounded sort of funny at first.  But we  decided it was not that funny so we
left Paris by train the next day.  Eric decided to venture off to Spain on his
own for a couple of days.  We would meet in Munich.)

  11) “BLONDIE…BLONDIE…COME OVER HERE”

“How was the train ride to Spain, Eric.”
“Not so good.”
“Why?”
“Spanish girls kept harassing me…called me 
Blondie…Blondie.”
“What ere their intentions?”
“Sex, I assumed.”
“And what did  you do?”
“Stopped in Barcelona and took train back
to meet you in Munich.”
“Running away?”
“Feared rape.”


12)  DRIFTING DOWN THE RHINE…ROMANCE


“Coblenz was  bombed  to smithereens in the war.  That’s why
it looks so modern today.  None of the old town survived.”
“So let’s take a river cruise up the Rhine and find a place to stay
in the countryside.   Use the local ferry boat that stops here
and there.”
“Right here.  Mosel region.  We should splurge and buy
a bottle of wine, Marjorie.  Just the two of un now that Eric
has buggered off to Spain.”
“Rent a nice room with one of those big German Eider downs.”
“Romance thrives.”


13) MUNICH BEER HALL…HOFBRAU HOUSE

“These guys must have been soldiers in the War.”
“Sure are professional  drinkers.”
“How can the barmaids carry so many beer steins”
“Strong women.”
“Oh…look…there was a man under the table…coming up for air now.”
“Alan, look at that other poor man…passed out with his cigarette
still burning between his fingers.”
“Sad.”
“I am going to put out the cigarette before he gets burned.”
“Maybe better  to mind your own business.”
“No. …There, it’s out.”
“The men at the table want to buy us beer as a result.”
“Three new steins full…lots of beer.”
“Toasting you Marjorie.”


14)   A PARK IN CENTRAL MUNICH

“We had too much beer, Alan.”
“I know.”
“I am  sleepy.”
“Only early afternoon….no B and B.”
“Let’s just flop down in the park.”

(And we did.  All Three of us.  out cold. With souvenir 
beer steins we bought from the Hofbrau house and
still have to this day.}

“Wake up…wake up…no sleeping allowed in this park.” (said in German)
(Park attendant was  amused, spoke in German of course, but
he was gentle.  Awakened us…gathered our steins and gently
suggested we move along.)

15)   DACHAU… CHILLING REMINDER OF POWER OF HATRED

“Where is Dachau?”

(We planned  to visit the Dachau extermination camp but had 
difficult getting locals to tell us how to get there.  Eventually
we found the horrific place which was part of an American military
base in 1965 and therefore preserved.  There was nothing nice
about this visit.)

“Alan, I hate this place.  I will not go any further inside the camp.
Just let me sit here.  Makes  me feel faint.”  (Marjorie)

15)   TOUGH MUNICH STREETCAR CONDUCTRESS…REALLY TOUGH.

“How do we get to downtown Muinich?”
“Get in…GET IN NOW. “ (in German)
(Big woman, Driving street car…no smile…gave orders in broken English)
“Sit at BACK…{And she pointed to back of street car….very insistent…no smile.}

“Where are we going?”
“No idea…just obeying orders.”
“COMEN SIE…COME HERE.”  
“Does she mean us?”
“Apparently…everyone is  looking our way.”
(We followed orders.)
“How much  do  we owe you?”
“Nothing…a gift…You are now in town centre. Welcome.”
(And she waved  us off.  Never smiling.  But a nice woman.)


16)  TRAIN …GERMANY TO ENGLAND…JAMMED LIKE CATTLE CAR


“OK, we are running out of money. Need  a cheap way to get back to England.”
“Train will do it. Each compartment folds into beds for six people.”
“So we avoid another B and B cost.  Sleep on the train.”
“Does not seem like much room here.”
“The other three have taken their beds.”
“Leaves you with the top bunk,Al.”
“Why me?”
“Because you are too damn slow.”
“Hard to breathe up here.”
“Marjorie and I do not give a sweet goddamn, Al.”

17) LATER…SAME TRAIN HEADING FOR THE COAST

“When are we going to eat, Alan?”
“When we get to London.”
“But that’s a full day away.”
“Save money.”
“Do you mean no food at all.”

18) THE TWO DERBY HATS


‘”Let’s look at the antique…junk…Portabelo Road market”  (in London).
“Not much money left.”

(just as we started to walk the roadway of dealers there was a board 
fence…One board moved.)

“You lads need Derby Hats.”
What?”
“I have two Derby Hats  for sale…cheap…just the thing for you boys…give
you a little class.”
“How much?”
“Five pounds each…take them both for eight pounds.”
“Why are you selling from behind the board fence?”
“Take them or leave them, boys…”




(So we bought our Derby Hats


19) TREASURES…WOULD YOU RENT US A  ROOM…THREE OF US, ONE  ROOM, PLUS BAGGAGE

“Marjorie, take a picture…all our worldly possessions.”
“I see the Hofbrau house beer stein, the quart of apple cider, the cheese, copies of Beatrix Potter…and
you with the Derby and that brass bound barrel we bought.
“Anything else?”
“Oh, yes, the BOOT.”
(needs a separae entry below…but first…look at Eric’s boot on the fireplace mantel.  Why is there
only one boot there?”


20) THE BOOT

“Eric, is sleeping.”
“Took a while for us to come agreement…”
“Cheaper for FOUR of us to sleep in one room.  Eric  Agreed.”
“But he did not agree to a 50 / fo split.”
“No, he figured on a 1/3 and 2/3 deal…

(You are wondering about the FOUR in bold letters.  Well, we were driving along an English backroad
and Marjoire spotted a baby rabbit in distress.  “Stop, Save the Bunny!”  So that became the fourth
member of our tour in England.  The poison Mixamatosis was being spread  around  to control rabbits.
Marjorie’s bunny had a small dose.  It survived with her care.)

“What does that have to do with the Boot above the fireplace in the previous  picture, you ask.”
“Well for some reason the rabbit liked to sleep in Eric’s boot.””
“And that meant rabbit marbles  in his boots in he morning.”
“Why is there one one boot above he fireplace>”
“You know the answer better than me.  Eric put both boots
up there.  You took one down when he fell asleep so the rabbit
had a bed.”

“What will we do with the rabbit?”
(We let it go in a nice green field in Scotland…hoping we were to far north for the poisoners.)
“Then we we’re back to three to a room.  Eric got the children’s cot.”

21) FLYING HOME FROM DUBLIN…NOT OUR BEST FOOT FORWARD




“Will you join us while we wait for the flight?”
“Will you have a pint of  Guinness?”
“I will but my father here is  Pioneer.”
“Pioneer?”
“he does not drink…thinks drink has damaged  image of the Irish and  others.”
“Will he join us though?”
“Sure…we have two hours  before the flight.”

(This turned out to be a bad idea.  We were excited to be flying home to Toronto
…exhausted.  Glad  to join a Roman Catholic  priest and his  father …most of
us  sharing a pint or two of Guinness.  Even Marjorie had  a glass.   When we boarded
the plane we were not too bad. But when we got up to 20,000 or 20,000 feet things
went awry.  We were laughing a lot.  Really enjoying each  others company. Silly.
Of course we were wearing our derby hats as well.  Caused quite a ruckus on
the plane, especially when Eric  felt a little sickly and called the stewardess.)

“Would you take this away.  I’ve been a  little sick…altitude sickness.”
(and he handed her his pillow having put the sick bag behind his head.
The stewardess  laughed but a few moments later the pilot came
back to visit us.  I now realize this visit was not social.  He scouted  us
out and decided we were not a big problem.  He even tried on one
our Derby Hats.  By that time I was cold sober trying to subdue Marjorie
who insisted on  painting my face with the whipped cream  flight dessert.)

“We will be landing in  Iceland for refuelling.  Short time but we will
deplane all the same.  Back in the air in about two hours.”

22)   MR. SKEOCH…YOU WERE MY STUDENT TEACHER LAST YEAR.

(This was routine.  But the events were not routine. Eric  was
still woozy.  Throwing up a bit.  The dry heaves as they say
Everyone sat in a large waiting room.   I was on one side
of Eric and a young girl was on the other side.  The funniest thing
happened then.   The young girl tapped Eric  on the arm…

“You are Mr. Skeoch,  my student teacher at Humberside a couple
of years  ago.  I remember you. So much fun.”

(Eric continued holding the bag tightly to his chest.  Marjorie was better 
bu then.   We looked at each other … then at Eric…then at the young
student.   This probably seems  awful to some readers but it was really
quite funny…quite harmless.   it was a time in our lives that could never
be repeated.)

alan skeoch
June 2020

p.s.  Picture below of the Royal George pub in Lyons Hall, Herefordshire.
Before it became a pub it was the birthplace  of  our Grandfather Edward
Freeman…the gardener at Windsor Castle and the Eywood.  


Posted on

EUROPE ON $5 A DAY…WE TRIED IT IN 1965…TOUGH SLEDDING BUT ADVENTURES.

I will be late today as we must finish planting

at farm.

We  were new teachers.  Eric and I taught at
Parkdale C.I.,  while Marjorie taught at Emery Junior
High.  Salary around $6,000 per year.   

There was a book written around 1960 titled “Europe
on $5 a day.”.  In  1965,  Marjorie, my brother Eric and I
decided to give it  a try.  Well, we did it…a whole series
of adventures that might interest readers.  I know it is
ego driven but some of the adventures were universal
like the chilling visit to Dachau and the rescue of a rabbit afflicted
with the poison Mixamatosis and the discovery we cold
live on Bulmer’s apple cider and cheese and bread.

Marjorie was a great sport about the whole thing.
She could take the privations and enjoy the adventures.
My brother, Eric, refused to go 50/50 on the expenses which
meant I had to pay 2/3 which I now know was reasonable.
Marjorie was a little disturbed on one day when we did  not
eat at all while crammed into a sleeping car in bunks
that were stacked so  tight that there was little room to breath.

One anecdote with picture.  

In London we visited an antique market where
a British crook offered us  derby hats recently’stolen
no doubt.  Mine had Harold McMillans initials.

We became Toffs (I think that is the word).


This story will be done in a point by point form…just to remove chance of
boredom.

But it may not come today. So use this as an introduction.

alan