Below, you can read the final ‘postcard’ from Ye Vagabonds, brothers Brían and Diarmuid MacGloinn, whose ‘All Boats Rise’, a slow tour rejecting the planes, trains, and automobiles for a slow-moving barge across the waterways of Ireland, has now come to an end. ON this final leg of their journey they are joined by Leo O Kelly of Tír Na nÓg, Laura Quirke and Joshua Burnside and Brigid Mae Power. You can read all the previous posts here.
Out of Rathangan, we made our way back to Vicarstown, the homeplace of our barge Dunrally. There we refuelled and ran over the charts for the Barrow with Philip, the barge owner. The Barrow is one of the rivers that run through our home county, Carlow. The river’s name is an anglicisation of the Gaelic ‘An Bhéarú’, which means ‘boiling’ and suggests that long ago, the river foamed and bubbled as it surged through the once densely forested landscape of the southwest.
The story goes that Dian Cecht, the physician of the Tuatha De Dannan, the old divine inhabitants of Ireland, plucked three serpents from the heart of the infant son of the Morrigan, a goddess of war. He then cast these serpents into the waters of the three sister rivers, the Nore, the Suir and the Barrow, causing their waters to boil.
We were assured by all that navigating the Barrow might be a little trickier than the canals but that it would not be boiling, surging or bubbling. We knew that this would be an exciting new phase in our journey, and most of all that we would have a chance to take a fresh view of the county where we grew up.
We entered the Barrow at Athy and right away felt the pull of the current beneath us. We could take the throttle down and were still almost twice as fast as we’d been on some stretches of the Grand canal. It was pure joy. The Barrow navigation is beautiful, and seeing it from a boat means that the trees lean both downwards and upwards on either side of the mirrored images of river and sky.
Families of swans drift past, and herons stand like sentinels at the lip of each weir. Bobby Welsh, a wizard-like man with long grey hair and beard who lives in the lock-house at Leighlinbridge, assures us that he once witnessed the herons in conference, a meeting held to decide which heron would be posted to which weir. We have no reason to doubt him.
This week family and friends hopped on and off to play tunes, share food, swim and fish. There was a constant buzz on the barge. On the way through Carlow town, we met Mick Whelan out walking and invited him to jump on. Mick is the father of Brían’s childhood best friend, a native Carlow man through and through. He mentioned he’d seen a bird caught in fishing line downriver and wanted to try cut it down. We hadn’t gone far when we spotted it, a young long-eared owl, and were surprised to find it was still alive. We managed to break the fishing line using a barge pole, but the poor owl dropped straight into the water. In a flash, Mick had stripped off and jumped in to rescue it, equipped with gloves and a knife. With the utmost care and tenderness, he lifted the wounded bird into the stern, where he and our friend Tom very gently removed the tangled nylon thread. The owl was left to convalesce in a dark room until such a time as we could bring it to experts who could care for it. In the end, it was too much for the poor creature, and a few hours later, it died. We like to think it was a much more peaceful passing than it would have otherwise had, and we wish it well in its onward journey.
In Leighlinbridge, we pulled up next to Sandra, who lives with two Golden retrievers on a barge called Golden Boyz, which has an image of the cartoon likeness of two golden retrievers emblazoned on its side looking out a cartoon porthole. That night we were joined by Leo O Kelly. We grew up listening to records of Leo’s psych-folk duo Tír Na nÓg and just love his songs. He was in great form, and we all played together on a few tunes.
Next night, we stopped in Goresbridge and had a few tunes with some old friends. The following day we went on to Clashganny. We knew upon arrival that it would be a rare night. Across from where we moored, pine trees towered above us; behind us, groups of canoes and kayaks paddled around, and the sun was blazing. We swam before we played. The crowd that night contained more dogs and little children than on previous nights, and we were joined by Laura Quirke and Joshua Burnside, who have recently collaborated on a beautiful collection of songs together. Our songs reverberated back at us from the trees, and even the occasional barking of the dogs seemed perfectly placed.
Maganey on Friday with Brigid Mae Power was another gem, marred only slightly by the attendance of several thousand midges. Brigid was as mesmerising as she always is, and Billy, a live-aboard whose narrowboat became part of the stage, also sang a few blues numbers by way of thanks to the people of Maganey who looked after him while his boat was having engine trouble. The highlight of that evening may have been the pre-gig show of two local lads jumping into the water from Maganey bridge. The Barrow is a beautiful place to be, and while it feels so new to us to see it from the water, it also feels a bit like home. This weeks trip will not soon be forgotten.
This month sees Vicar Street re-open and to celebrate they have a month of great events under the ‘Vision’ banner including All Boats Rise on the 25th of September (Tickets)
Website: http://yevagabonds.com/