Names Written on the Water’s Edge

Discovering Some Coastal Placenames

The area around Brownstown Head is renowned as an excellent location for birdwatching, with both seabirds and land birds commonly seen. It was between Brownstown Head and Ballymacaw Cove where, in May 1834, the last Great Auk was captured alive in Ireland. It died the following September and was donated to Trinity College. This species, now extinct, was last seen in 1844.

Link to: Waterford and the last Great Auk of Ireland 

Looking at the 1787 chart of the coastline published by Robert Sayer, entitled “An Actual Survey of the Harbour and River of Waterford, and of the Bay of Tramore,” it is clear that the area between Brownstown Head and Falskirt Rock (noted as “Fileskirt” on the chart) was then called “Alands Bay.” This name has not survived into modern times.

Link to the 1787 chart: An actual survey of the harbour and river of Waterford and of the bay of Tramore... 

The Aland family owned estates in County Waterford in the 17th century, including Nymph Hall at Dunmore East. Following the death of Jonathan Aland, the last male heir of the family, in 1691, the property passed to his daughter Sarah. After Sarah's death, the succession was disputed in the courts by her cousin, Sir John Fortescue-Aland (1670–1746), later 1st Baron Fortescue of Credan, who eventually secured possession of part of the estate.

The Hon. Dudley Fortescue, who built Corballymore House around 1870, was a descendant. The succession of these lands is complex, but more information can be found at:
https://landedfamilies.blogspot.com/2013/09/69-aland-and-fortescue-aland-of-nymph.html

Alternative Names for Brownstown Head

Sayer’s chart gives Brownstown Head the alternative name of “Horsley,” which is clearly an error in transcription from an earlier chart known as Doyle’s Chart (1737).

If you examine Doyle’s chart, you will see “Horselep” as the alternative name, not “Horsley.” Horselep is most likely a misspelling of “Horseleap,” a name that appears in reports of an 1843 shipwreck:

This tragic occasion was on June 8th, 1843, when a newspaper report from Dunmore East stated that a melancholy scene had been witnessed whereby a large American barque, laden with cotton, had been wrecked on Brownstown Head. There were sixteen hands on board and only one was saved out of the whole crew. The vessel in question was the William Ladd, from Mobile, Alabama to Liverpool and it went on shore at Horseleap Glen, near Brownstown Head. [1]

[1] Information from http://tramoreshippwrecks.blogspot.com

Liem Gaulda’s Cove

If you study a section of Sayer’s chart, you will see a reference to “Liem Gaulda’s Cove.” Today, we know this inlet as Coolum Cove.

So, who was Liem Gaulda?

To answer this, it is necessary to refer to Canon Patrick Power

Canon Patrick Power and Coastal Placenames

Canon Patrick Power (1862–1951) was a priest born in Callaghane in the Barony of Gaultier. He was also an archaeologist and a scholar of Gaelic. Canon Power had a deep interest in the local history and archaeology of Waterford, and he published and lectured widely on the subject. His greatest work, Place-Names of the Decies (1907), had been appearing locally for many years before its publication. He travelled from parish to parish collecting information before compiling the book.

Canon Power refers to the location as “Cuan Liam Gallda” – “Harbour of William the Foreigner.” He records the following:

“The foreigner, according to local belief, is William of Orange, some of whose followers are represented as having landed here! Near low-water mark are some foundations of what would appear to have been a stone-built pier. The headland enclosing the little haven on the east was defended on the land side by a double earthen wall, of pre-historic character, thrown across its neck. The entrenchment seems to have been strengthened in its interior by stone, a large quantity of which a neighbouring farmer extracted from it. Portion of the ruinous wall still rises to the height of eighteen feet. Between the wall and the sea lies half an acre of level saxifrage-covered sward, the former encampment of an ancient colony. Formerly, no doubt, the space enclosed was much larger; the encroachment of the ocean along the coast is very marked, and the yearly tribute of the cliffs to the Atlantic very considerable. The fortified headland is known as ‘Oileán Liam Gallda.’”

Canon Power makes no reference to Falskirt Rock.

Falskirt Rock

Ray McGrath, writing in The Barony Echo No. 10 (the quarterly newsletter of the Barony of Gaultier Historical Society, April 2017), and drawing on the extensive coastal placename knowledge of the late Stephen Whittle, describes Falskirt Rock as a large and dangerous rock, which is almost completely covered at high tide and located off Swine Head. He notes that the name is obscure but suggests the first part may derive from “cliff” and the second from “scairt” meaning “separation.”

The Waterford Standard and Conservative Gazette of November 18th, 1871, published a list of placenames from the Barony of Gaultier with their English meanings (no author credited). Falskirt Rock was defined as “The Cliff of the Sea Rock.”

A Gallant Rescue at Falskirt Rock

One of the most courageous rescues by the Dunmore East RNLI lifeboats took place at Falskirt Rock on December 14th, 1950, when the crew of the fishing boat St Declan were saved by RNLB Annie Blanche Smith during a gale with snow blizzards.

The lifeboat, under the command of Coxswain Paddy Billy Power, found the disabled fishing boat close to the dangerous Falskirt Rock. Within minutes, it would have struck the rocks; fishing nets had become fouled around her, and a rescue would have been impossible. The lifeboat closed in, a line was thrown, and using eighty fathoms of anchor cable, the fishing boat was towed clear. This was done in extreme darkness, in the teeth of a gale, with the tide running against the wind and a high sea breaking fiercely on the rocks.

The lifeboat was handled with great courage and seamanship. Coxswain Paddy Billy Power was awarded a clasp to his bronze medal (originally awarded for gallantry in 1941), and Second Coxswain Richard Power received a bronze medal.

American Hydrographic Records

An online search recently uncovered an interesting book entitled “British Islands Pilot Volume III – The Coasts of Ireland”. It was published in 1917 by the U.S.A. Hydrographic Office, under the authority of the Secretary of the Navy.

One wonders if the publication coincided with the entry of the United States naval forces into World War I?

https://books.google.ie/books?id=pqYuAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA118&lpg=PA118&dq

The book can be read online at the above link.

Throughout the book, the American spelling “Harbor” is used instead of “Harbour.” One entry, in particular, stood out:

Dangers. – The coast between Brownstown Head and the entrance of Waterford Harbor (sic) is bold-to and clear of danger, with the exception of Swede Patch, with nine feet, which lies ¾ mile eastward of the head, and 200 yards from the shore; and Falskirt Rock, 400 yards off Swine Point, which covers at two-thirds flood.

Swede Patch and Changing Names

Looking at a navigation chart from circa 1900, we can see “Swede Patch” named in the area outlined above. Coolum Cove is also named as it is known today; the older name “Liam Gallda’s Cove” had clearly fallen out of usage.

“Swede Patch” does not appear on the charts of 1737 or 1787 (see Part 1), suggesting that the name only came into use after that period.

So, how did this name arise, and what might be its origin?

Tracing the Origin of "Swede Patch"

To find out more, I began to search through the writings of Gaultier historian Matthew Butler.

Matthew Butler (1874–1964) was born in Ballygarron in the Barony of Gaultier. In 1913, his book A History of the Barony of Gaultier was published. In addition, during the 1940s, he was a regular contributor to the Waterford News with items of historical interest, many of them relating to the Barony of Gaultier.

One particularly interesting article on Ballymacaw by Matthew Butler appeared in the Waterford News on October 27th, 1944. In it, he recounts a fascinating story he had found in a copy of Finn’s Leinster Journal from 1793.

A News Report from 1793

The edition of the Finn’s Leinster Journal newspaper that Butler referred to was dated January 26–31, 1793. This was the news item:

COUNTRY NEWS
Waterford, January 26

Thursday evening, a Swedish vessel, laden with hemp and iron, was discovered by some fishermen, near Brownstown Head, within a few miles of this harbour, with a ketch anchor out, and her stern in on the rocks. On going on board of her, they found she had been deserted by the crew, no person whatever being on board, though her logbook had been marked at meridian that day. After having remained on board for some time, without anyone belonging to appearing, they proceeded to get her off, which having accomplished, they brought her to our Quay yesterday.

The circumstances, which at first view appears unaccountable, is developed by the arrival of the crew in this city last night, who, terrified at the vessel being driven on the rocks, betook themselves to the boat, and came on shore.

Captain Hocguard, of the ship Liberty, lately arrived at Waterford from Jersey, informs us, that when he left the island there were at least six thousand French emigrants there- all of whom vowed the strictest fidelity and attachment to the English Government, and declared themselves ready to co-operate with the military force in defence of that place, should their infatuated countrymen be induced to make a descent on it.

Historian, Ivan Fitzgerald, from Tramore has unearthed another newspaper cutting which gives the name of the vessel. It comes from the Public Advertiser, dated February 2nd, 1793:

Last Wednesday (24th January) some fishermen belonging to Ballymacaw boarded a vessel which was lying off that place, when they found she had been deserted by the master and crew. She arrived here yesterday evening under the crew of Mr Rogers, Deputy Surveyor, and proves to be the Frichelem of Gottenburg, laden with iron and deal. From her papers, the captain’s name appears to be Eric Diricks. It is feared every person belonging to the vessel has perished in attempting to get to shore.

We now know that the ship was called Frichelem. This newspaper must not have been advised that that the crew had arrived safely in Waterford. It is interesting that they named the vessel and the master.

Did This Ship Give Its Name to "Swede Patch"?

Was this deserted Swedish vessel the one that gave the name to the submerged rock close to Brownstown Head? My guess is that this is indeed how the name of this “patch”—or “rock,” as it is more commonly called today—came about. The name “Swede Rock” appears to commemorate the Swedish vessel that grounded on the rock, and it has been passed down through the generations since that time.

If the Swedish sailors had waited rather than panicked and abandoned ship, they would have found that the vessel would likely have floated off the rock when the tide began to flood. Instead, it was left to the Ballymacaw fishermen to free the vessel and sail her up the river to Waterford the following day.

One would like to know why it took so long for the Swedish sailors to reach Waterford, just about sixteen kilometres away. Granted, the roads and pathways were not of modern standards, but having abandoned the vessel sometime on Thursday afternoon, they did not arrive in Waterford until Friday night.

The last paragraph in the news report is remarkably interesting. It appears to me that the ship Liberty was different from the Swedish vessel. Additional information was simply appended to the report. The news of turmoil on the island of Jersey was certainly noteworthy, especially as it came only a few days after King Louis XVI was executed by guillotine on January 21st, 1793. King Louis XVI was the last King of France before the fall of the monarchy during the French Revolution.

One wonders if Captain Hocguard was aware of this momentous event before he sailed from Jersey. If so, he may well have been the first person to bring such dramatic news to Ireland.

"Typing of this name is not very legible – may be ‘Hoeguard."

Shanoon, Sean Uaimh – “Old Cave”

Canon Patrick Power, in Place Names of the Decies, noted the name Sean Uaimh or Old Cave—a title that seems fitting for the rugged stretch of high cliff overlooking the harbour at Dunmore East known locally as Shanoon.

Now, pedantic voices might argue that Shanoon doesn’t strictly fall within the embrace of the ‘Three Sisters’ rivers—Suir, Barrow, and Nore. But I would beg to differ. A Royal Charter granted in 1356 expanded the authority of the Mayor of Waterford, bestowing upon him the title Admiral of the Port of Waterford. (1) The outer limits of that jurisdiction were marked by a line running from Hook Head in County Wexford to Red Head, just west of present-day Dunmore East. By that measure, Shanoon makes it in—just by the skin of its teeth—nestled so close to Red Head as it is.

A chart dating from 1787, long before the harbour at Dunmore East was built, clearly shows Shanoon Point, lying in relation to Red Point (Red Head) and Hook Point.

But the fame of Shanoon predates any medieval charters by thousands of years. Long before written records, people lived and worked in this area. The late Noel McDonagh, a Dunmore East fisherman, collected prehistoric artefacts near Creadan Head over four decades. When examined by leading archaeologists, some of these finds were found to be over 10,000 years old, marking the area as one of the oldest known settlements in Ireland. (3)

For safety from enemies and wild animals, these early communities often built huts on narrow clifftop projections, their inland flanks protected by earth embankments. These habitations, known as promontory forts, left their imprint on Shanoon as well. Iron Age settlers established such a fort overlooking the sea here. (4)

The very name Dunmore derives from Dún Mór—“The Great Fort” (5) —a promontory fort that once stood near Black Knob on Shanoon, close to the old Pilot Station. This should not be confused with the imposing castle, believed by historian Julian Walton to have been built by Lord Power of Curraghmore in the 1470s, the sole surviving tower of which still stands proudly above Ladies’ Cove today. (6)

My Shanoon

Nowadays, Shanoon boasts a well-appointed car park offering sweeping views across the entrance to Waterford Harbour and the Hook Peninsula. It is also the starting point for the scenic cliff-top walk to Portally, a four-kilometre round trip. Ray McGrath describes this beautiful route in his Gaultier Heritage Rambles.

But when I was growing up in the 1950s, Shanoon was much larger than it is now. In the 1960s, a portion of it was blasted away to provide material for the new fishing harbour development, changing the shape of the headland forever.

An aerial photograph taken before World War II shows Shanoon as I remember it in the 1950s. Anecdotally, the photograph was taken by the RAF during reconnaissance missions of the Irish coastline. A white arrow points to the house where I grew up, perched on the pier at Dunmore East, and a black arrow highlights the famous Black Knob.

For me, Shanoon evokes three abiding memories: pilots, cows, and Black Knob.

The Pilots

As a boy, I often watched the Waterford Harbour Pilots stationed in their lookout at the top of Shanoon. In those days, before the advent of modern navigational aids, they would scan the horizon for ships approaching Waterford and New Ross. Ray McGrath writes that pilots hailed from a few long-established families from Dunmore and Passage: the Glodys, Fitzgeralds, Walshes, Bastons, Whittys, and Dohertys. Mariners relied upon their deep knowledge, skill, and dedication. (7)

There was a local myth that the pilots had always been based on Shanoon, but in truth, the move only came about in 1951, when the new pilot cutter Betty Breen replaced the Lily Doreen. Finding the new vessel’s quarters cramped, the pilots relocated ashore to the station on Shanoon, which happened to be vacant at the time. (8)

Getting from the station down to the pilot boat required a nerve-testing descent down a steep path on the cliff facing the harbour. One misstep could prove fatal. Needless to say, my parents forbade me from even thinking about attempting that path.

The Cows

In the 1950s, William Power of Power’s Bar—who also ran a butcher’s shop beside the pub—rented Shanoon from the Office of Public Works for grazing cattle. This often gave the nuns at the Convent School near the cliffs cause for alarm. From their classroom windows, they would spot cows nonchalantly nibbling grass at the very edge of the cliff.

As a young pupil, I vividly recall the nuns sending a senior girl racing up the village to raise the alarm. Soon, Andy Taylor the butcher—still in his bloodstained apron—and a young Billy Power could be seen running down the road with sticks in hand, driving the cows back from danger.

Black Knob was the rocky outcrop at the end of Shanoon where the cliff turned sharply, 90 degrees, towards the start of Dunmore East’s pier. In a violent gale of the 1960s, the natural stone arch linking Black Knob to Shanoon collapsed into the sea.

Black Knob held great significance for me as a child. I was strictly forbidden to venture beyond it in a boat, as doing so would take me out of my father’s watchful line of sight from the harbour.

For a short while, I set a lobster pot behind the pier, close to Black Knob, but shellfish fishing was never my strong suit. My only regret is that I never got to explore—or even see up close—the cave that runs under Shanoon. Known on charts as Merlin’s Cave (or Merlin’s Cove), access from the cliff is impossible, and trying to approach by boat would be dangerous at best.

A Place of Weather and Legend

Shanoon has endured countless storms over the centuries and remains particularly vulnerable to gales from the south-east. A poet, who signed only the initials MH, submitted a seventeen-verse poem to the Munster Express in 1895. It recounted the dreadful storm of 1888 that claimed the Alfred D. Snow on the County Wexford side of the harbour.

The poem describes the cone raised on Shanoon, the Coastguards’ signal to warn of an impending storm. 

A GALE AS ONCE WITNESSNED IN DUNMORE EAST

All early in the bleak forenoon
The cone is raised on the Shannon ;
And every sign on sea and land
Denotes a gale is just at hand.

The sky is of a sable hue,
Which almost hides the Hook from view ;
And from the strands and coves below
White bubbles round the village blow.

As if disporting in the sky,
In all directions seagulls fly ;
While by the cliffs and darksome caves,
Black divers stem the curling waves.

From many a rick fly straw and hay,
And slates off houses fall away ;
While rooftrees, wearing ancient thatch,
Exhibit many a naked patch.

The leafless trees shake to and fro,
Their topmost branches bending low ;
And through the woods and groves all round
Their boughs are strewn upon the ground.

This gale, which sprung up in the South,
Now sweeps into the harbour's mouth ;
And from the ocean's deepest caves
Would seem to rise the foam-capped waves.

Like countless hosts in fierce array,
They charge into the open bay,
And in terrific grandeur leap
Along the cliffs and headlands steep.

And as they speed to Nymph Hall Strand,
They threaten to invade the land.
Each moment sheets of water fly,
And flood the road and field nearby.

They charge the frail protecting wall
Before the houses at Nymph Hall ;
Huge sprays upon the housetops fall
And drench the windows, doors, and all.

Rebounding from each cliff and rock,
The broken waves roll to the dock—
Where vessels, anchored side by side,
Are tossed upon the angry tide.

On all the vessels ropes and chains
The wild wind plays in mournful strains ;
Or sprites, perhaps, that haunt the air
Are piping doleful music there.

Just as the gale is at its height,
A gallant barque appears in sight ;
She rounds the Hook with scanty sail,
And runs for shelter from the gale.

While yet, amidst the billows tossed,
Some person cried "That ship is lost !"
Too near to Wexford coast she keeps
And grounds upon its hidden reefs.

As in a vice she is held fast,
While by the board go spar and mast,
And cabins, bulwarks, ropes, and chains,
'Till nothing but the hull remains.

Meantime her crew of twenty-eight
Have left the vessel to her fate—
They've taken to their own lifeboat
With hopes that she may keep afloat.

They row out from the vessel's side—
The boat is swallow'd by the tide ;
They perish, and all hands go down
Close to the bay of Templetown.

The captain—brave, determined man!—
Swims to'ards the land, as best he can,
And to the Wexford coast he bore,
But was found lifeless on that shore.

                                                             by M. H.

"This is Shanoon: a place steeped in history, shaped by storms, watched by pilots, grazed by cattle, and etched into my childhood memories."

David Carroll

References:

1 - Brophy, Anthony Port of Waterford: Extracts from the Records of the Waterford Harbour Commissioners from their Establishment in 1816 to the Report of the Ports and Harbours Tribunal, 1930. Decies No 60, 2004.

2 - https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b53011020p/f1.item.r=tramore

3 - Carroll, David Dauntless Courage, Celebrating the history of the RNLI Lifeboats, their

crews, and the Maritime Heritage of Dunmore East, 2020

4 - Fewer, TN, A Brief History of Dunmore East, discoverdunmore.com

5 - Power, Canon Patrick, Place names of the Decies, (Cork, 1952).

6 - Carroll, Dauntless Courage

7 - Gaultier Heritage Rambles: The Dunmore to Portally Cliff Walk, Waterford News and Star, Sept. 03, 2019

8 - 2020 Interview with former Harbour Pilot and Lifeboat Coxswain, John Walsh