The Killybegs Fishermen
Killybegs Town lies tucked in a rocky sea cove in southern Donegal where it gets protection from the Atlantic storms that often batter this pretty stretch of coastline in bad weather. In the summertime the coastline is beautiful and when the weather is fine there is no better simple pleasure in life than taking a drive along the coastal road from Killybegs Town to Glencolumkille via the village of Kilcar. The place has character, the people are friendly and the scenery is magnificent. Even in winter the air in Donegal feels healthy although the temperatures sometimes make it feel more like the Baltic or Siberia
Killybegs had some life about it back then but in the not too distant future it would hit rough waters that would pull it under causing it to sink into a state of commercial decline. The same thing had happened to many busy Scottish fishing ports over the years so it was not big news in grand scheme of things but I was shocked at how quickly it happened because the place was full of life when I knew it
In 2001 the harbour was full of trawlers and fish processing plants. There were rich men with boats costing millions that could carry big crews, huge nets and had tons of storage space below decks for the catch. These boats were more like ships than trawlers and they were kitted out with all the latest equipment and had first class facilities for the crew
There was one man who went out fishing alone everyday on what looked like a rowing boat with a little wheelhouse stuck on the front. It looked like a miniature trawler for one man and I used to like watching this guy go to his shift every day because he was like an underdog taking on the odds. Someone told me that he did quite well and sold lobster to the local restaurants but I used to amuse myself watching him steam out of the harbour every morning in what looked like a little toy fishing trawler made of balsa wood
There were also the small time operators who had old rickety tubs that could take a crew of maybe 5 or 6, some of whom were often Eastern European or Spanish economic migrants who didn't seem to mind working for a few pounds less than the Irish fishermen. Life on the rickety trawlers was not easy and the sleeping quarters were basic wooden bunks in a dark hole below deck that never saw daylight or got a whiff of fresh air. It was not the Hilton and the men just got on with the work. There is no airs and graces around when men are working for up to a week at a time on a small boat with no bathroom facilities but the camaraderie is strong - it just has to be
Fishermen would often head for far away fishing grounds for weeks at a time to places like Norway, the Faroe Islands, or around the top of Scotland. Fishing boats carry echo sounders which emit ultrasonic waves that bounce off the seabed to show up on a radar screen in the wheelhouse. If there is no fish around the screen is clear but when a shoal appears it will show up as a blob of light on the radar screen. If the shoal looks big enough the skipper will then get the boat positioned and call the men to get ready to shoot the net
The net is lowered and raised by hydraulic wynches on the deck. When the net is being shot there is nothing on earth that can stop it
and you have to get well out of the way because one careless slip could pull you over the side to the bottom of the water
The nets have electronic devices fitted to them that send signals to the wheelhouse when the net is full. They do this using an electronically sensitive switch that trips when the main cords of the net get pulled tight by the weight of the shoal
When a full net net comes up all those tons of fish need to sorted and graded, placed into boxes of ice and then neatly stacked up against the walls below deck so that most use is made of the space available. The crew has to work long and hard until the all this work is done before they can start thinking of what they will do when they get to port. On the bigger boats life was easier because when they reached port the fish would just all be sucked up out of the holds using what was basically a giant hoover which drew all the fish up and into the back of waiting lorries that would drive the lot off to the fish processing plants
It was all economies of scale where the men with the most money had the best of everything and caught the most fish. The real problem was that the fish had no chance due to the advanced technology that was being used to track them down and whup them out of the sea. Greed was a major reason for the demise of the fishing industry because the seas had been fished almost dry by illegal over fishing
The trawler skippers had responsible jobs that came with pressure because the skipper has to find fish while keeping his men safe. There was also the added pressure of paying for fuel and the upkeep of the boat. If a boat got damaged and had to go in for specialised repair work then it meant the crew were left idle and the bills would mount up while the boat was out of action. The boats took a lot of punishment out on the ocean and equipment failures were common. Nets were always getting ripped and had to repaired by a local company in Killybegs called Swan Net; radio equipment was always breaking down and for this reason most boats carried several radio sets in case of emergencies
I did shore based repair work for an ex Royal Navy man who's father left him some land up in Dungloe. We serviced the electronics equipment on the boats - radars, echo- sounders, radio sets and such like. The boss had a curious accent that was a mixture of Scottish, English and Irish. The workshop was usually quiet but it was exciting when you knew there was a trawler coming in for repair. Then you got the chance to earn your wages because work would sometimes be slack and you'd feel conscious about sometimes just hanging around and killing time
There are two big jobs that I remember well. One week my mate and I re-wired a whole fishing trawler from top to bottom and and on another we fitted an huge piece of echo sounding gear into the bilge and down through the keel. This required the assistance of a diver because there was a flange that needed to be unbolted from the hull and on the other side of this flange was nothing but freezing cold sea water. You put a rubber flap in place which creates a vacuum and this lets you work from above without drawing in sea water. The gear we were fitting looked like one of those large periscopes you see on submarines in old world war 2 films and it weighed a ton
The sea and it's dangers are always on your mind but you get through by having some craic and looking out for each other. Its a responsible job and you never ever cut corners with your work. It's serious stuff and people are depending on you. I worked in the shipyards in Glasgow in the early 1980s as a fitter and I was no stranger to rough and dangerous work but when you get older the reflexes and the joints are not the same. Luckily at the time I could still get myself around a ship easily and squeeze into corners that required me to have almost double jointed physical abilities
Sometimes I would go out on a trawler to trial test the equipment and enjoy the ride. This was another world from the one I had experienced in my previous electronics career. There was no cushy office desk with computer, phone and a research budget. You lived on the hoof and because of this you felt more alive than ever and better capable of facing new challenges every day. I was now doing the type of work that made me just want to flop into bed at the end of the day and there was no time for silly little things like worrying
This life was a long way from the city where life had many comforts that most people take for granted. Some say that the city life makes you
hard but I never believed that and have always put it down to city people blustering on about how superior they think they are. All you need to
do in the city is find a job, live properly and you are sorted but the big risk is that if the economy goes on the blink and you don't have
savings then you are in queer street. No-one I knew who lived the in city could see the risks involved in jumping on the Celtic Tiger bandwagon
but I had the advantage of having being brought up with a thrifty Scottish mother who had to watch every penny to feed the family. I had seen
the Thacherisaton of Scotland in the 1980s and had the advantage of hindsight
One day the boss and I journeyed up to Ballycastle in Northern Ireland to fit a radar onto a trawler and we were there from 9 o'clock in the morning until well after midnight because the job didn't go as well as planned. Most of the time was spent on top of the wheelhouse out in the open air as a westerly January wind was howling in which would have cut even the toughest of men to the bone. This wind was ice cold and as the late evening approached the temperature dropped to around freezing point and I started to feel sorry and damned. A thought popped into my head just then which told me that this work would not last for much longer because I knew that it was work which I was not cut out for any more because the years had made me softer and I knew from experience that there were easier and less dangerous ways to live than this. Some men do enjoy it but then they are not cut out for the education and career life style
I am glad I spent a few months working with the Killybegs fishermen because it taught me how to be humble again. These men were inferior to nobody and they had a spirit in them that could not be quenched by setbacks and the odd misfortune. Like the British miners and shipyard workers they knew that their life was dangerous and that it could be could be much worse. You didn't hear any moaning or whining from these men and the work they did was an inspiration which is often romantically remembered in folklore and the famous songs of the sea.
August 2009
