Tales from Clew Bay: The Burning Island

By Sonia Kelly

IN her Tales From Clew Bay series, Sonia Kelly, Westport, recalls local stories from the past. Her latest offering recounts the story of The Burning Island:

A LONG time ago when I was a young man, my father and myself in our two boats, with three men in each, went fishing in Blacksod Bay on the last holiday in June. We fished all that night and part of the next day but there was not much fish to be had and so we consulted together and decided to sail to the Killaries and try our luck there.

We arrived in the evening and started fishing immediately. There was plenty of fish but towards night it became very dark and stormy – so much so that my father ran his boat into a small cove sheltered by the hills and dropped anchor for the night. I, being young and ambitious and seeing the amount of fish there was, said that we would keep on fishing and so we reefed our sails and put the boat about again.

Now in that bay is a small island called Innisheagle, and as we were nearing it for the second time, I saw a glow on the west side of the island. I drew the attention of the other two men to this, and as we watched, the glow grew brighter and brighter until the whole side was a blaze of fire.

I knew that nothing ever grew there – not even a whin bush. There was absolutely nothing to my knowledge but the bare rock which could have been burning and there was only one little cottage away on the other side. So we talked among ourselves and agreed that it wasn’t a natural sight at all and that it would be better if we, too, ran for the creek where my father was and anchored for the rest of night.

It was a difficult passage between the rocks in the wink, but all the time we were guided by the storm lantern on my father’s boat and at last we came alongside her.

When I was lying in my bunk after making her fast, it came to me suddenly that my father’s storm lantern was at home in the house waiting for a new glass for it had got smashed on our last trip. As soon as I thought this I went up on deck to see if everything was all right and there was no lamp at all on the other boat, but now the side of Muilray that was over us was also burning from one end to the other and all the sky was lit by the glow from it and Innishdeagle.

I returned to my bunk again and when I awoke I saw that a nicer morning never blew out of God’s heaven, and at sunrise we heaved up our anchors and started for the fishing grounds. I was steering our boat and I was surprised to notice, on nearing the island, a small canoe setting out from her with two people on board. It pulled rapidly towards the main land and landed at a pier where one of the people got out and the other occupant pushed off again and came in our direction.

As he came alongside I recognised the man as my old friend who lived on the island and we always used to make a practise of exchanging news whenever I was up that way as in those days there was no postal service or other form of communication. We chatted for a bit but I did not like to mention the strange things which we had seen in the night to him, and then one of the other men called out to him and asked if there was anything wrong on the island that last night. He said no and inquired why the man asked, so I told him myself then how we had seen the countryside afire, and he again repeated that there was nothing wrong but that his wife had been confined and it was the nurse whom he had been leaving on the mainland. "And isn’t it strange," he said, "that every time a child is born on that island the same thing happens which you saw in the night."