Historic Reunion of Canal Bargemen (1986)

HISTORIC REUNION OF CANAL BARGEMEN

Leinster Leader, October 18, 1986

The canalside village of Robertstown returned to its former glory for a few hours on Sunday week. It was just like the old Scottish legend in the musical Brigadoon as over two hundred bargemen and their families converged on the quiet village by car, bus, and “shanks mare” for the first ever reunion of canal bargemen.

The idea was mooted by local and former bargeman Paddy Kane, and brought to fruition by himself and local curate, Fr. Merrigan (himself a Barroman from Carlow) who spent some years in Graiguenamanagh before coming to Allen. Those two were ably assisted by a number of other locals like Dick Cross, Mrs. Kelly, Tommy Hannon, and many more good canalside people.

The afternoon’s celebration began with Mass, celebrated by Fr. Merrigan in the old canal hotel, with appropriate readings for the day read by two former boatmen, Dick Cross of Ballyteague and John Connolly, of Graiguenamanagh. In his homily Fr. Merrigan spoke of past times on the Grand Canal, and the slightest trace of a tear came from the assembled marines when he spoke of “11th Mile Bridge” at Tubberdaly, and their former colleague “Midge” Kelly.

But tears changed to laughter and applause when he spilled the beans on some local girls who secretly hoped to meet a former “Barrowman” boyfriend they had not met for years, and maybe renew an old friendship that began so long ago.

Fr. Merrigan also paid tribute to the many boatmen who have passed on to their eternal rest. And as he did, one could sense the presence of thousands of souls of times past all joined with their surviving comrades for just one minute of time. We hope they are now sailing close to the Heavenly Shore.

OLD FRIENDS

As the writer mingled with his old friends and former neighbours, he saw people like Tod Aungier and his wife May. He’s a member of a long-tail canal family, and she a member of another: the Dunnes of Ballyteague. Her father and his father before him were “Bank Rangers” on the canal. There were also the O’Neills, from Killina; (Paddy, Brian and Dan); the Conroys from Robertstown; Dick Kelly and his wife from Dublin (formerly from Ballyteague); Jim Moloney, Tom Doyle and his wife Brigid (both coming from a canal background); Tommy Ennis, Mick Herbert and his Dublin born wife down for the day to meet old friends.

After handshakes and greetings all round with lots of potographs [sic] to preserve the reunion for posterity, we were all ready for the afternoon cruise. There to take us were Tommy Hannon and Gerry Kelly, two very reliable and competent boat handlers with many years of steering barges to their credit.

We headed for Lowtown. “This auld boat was taken out new from the dock by my grandfather, old Dick Cross”, said his grandson and namesake, Dick from Ballyteague. “Her number was 52M. My grandfather died in 1946, on Christmas Eve, and the same time as the four men were drowned off Lough Derg Holy Island”. This tragedy occurred when the canal barge, the 45M, carrying an estimated 50 tons of porter, was lost on the Shannon; one of the sad tales of boating indeed.

I asked an old bargeman: “How long were you on the canal”? “Eighty years”, he answered, “forty years by day and forty by night!” And within earshot of the writer, one bargeman greeting another said “Wisha Dan, how are ye goin’ on?” “Great, Tony, and yourself?”, he replied. “God, but it’s great to see ye. You know, we’d have a crew now if we had Anderson (who has since passed on)”.

PLAQUE

The oldest boatman present, 90-years-old Peter Duggan from Allenwood, was presented with a plaque, and Esther Conroy, from Lowton, the fourth generation of her family to mind the lock, also received a plaque in recognition of her long service.

“Duggan has very little on me, boy”, declared Edward Cahill, from Graiguenamanagh, who is a sprightly 87 years old, and spent 50 of them on the canal. “And I enjoyed every bit of it”, he said.

“We’re going back slower”, observed Dan Neill; “You see Gerry doesn’t like coming back from Lowtown; he got the wife there”, joked Dan.

But back we came, and in record time. And as we moored one thought of times past when packet boats and horsedrawn barges sailed in and out of this, a one-time famous canal village, with its fine Canal Hotel, and stables, which remind today’s writer of its opulent past.

As we disembarked to the sound of Robertstown’s own Dennis Moran and his band, entertaining the nostalgic boatmen and their wives, daughters, sons, and friends, there was a delicious candlelight meal waiting for us, served as only the Robertstown girls can with their usual Robertstown courtesy. Later the visitors danced the evening away.

“Were any of you lads ever up the Naas canal”, I asked a group busy reliving old times. “I drew coal up to Corbally”, replied Jim Murphy, “aye, and sundries up to Naas”, he also recalled. “Whelan was the agent in Corbally, and Mick Bracken the agent in Naas”.

He went on: “Sure there’s a lot of stories about the Naas branch. There was a man drowned in the harbour in the old days and the swans never went near the spot for years. I used to draw coal up to the gasworks”.

Jim continued: “And big Paddy Curtis would empty the boat in half the time with his huge big shovel. Wisha, God be with the time: you’d be passing the Soldier’s Island and going on up to Rourke’s Lock”. “You’d be either going up to Odlum’s for a load of flour or going all the way up to Naas or on to Corbally”.

Someone else interjected, recalling one of the old “steamers” called The Barrow which was brought over by the British to France during the First World War. “Paddy Connell (God rest him) from Shannon Harbour saw it when he was soldiering over there in France”.

Private boats also plied the canal run by the Smullens, the Hayeses, Gills, Odlums, Shackletons, D. E. Williams, to name but a few.

EARNINGS

Paddy Dunne, from Lowtown, told me he started on a barge in 1932 at the age of 14, and he earned 24 shillings a week, less one shilling and threepence for a stamp. His duties were as a second greaser and he had to make tea, clean the cabin, fill the water barrels, etc. “You’d get the water from the 9th Lock, or from Leperstown well (near Athy) or on to the other line near a bridge not far from Edenderry”.

The boats sailed all night. The crew consisted of five people: the skipper, the driver, the deckman, and the first and second greases. During his 27 years on the canal Paddy Dunne got promoted through all those jobs, and ended up as a skipper of the 74M at the time the canal was closed in 1960. At that time he was earning 8 pounds three shillings a week. “It was a hard life, but I loved it”, said Paddy, as he spoke about his life on the canals of Ireland.

I suppose he summed up what everyone felt with those few words; those present: including the Connollys, the Balfes, the O’Neills, the Penders, (from Killina and Ticknevin); the Conroys, the Domicans, the Hannons (from Robertstown); the Bolgers, the McDonnells, the Dochertys,  and the Connollys (from Graiguenamanagh).

So, a great day, and a great occasion, came to an end, and another historic “first” was over. The people of the busy canalside village went home hoping to meet again next year. Who knows?

Re-typed from the original newspaper article by Eimhin Clarke.