Click on any of the main images for a closer view

Saturday 10 June 2017

Danny Sheehy, Guardal Wilson

Dingle man Danny Sheehy who, among many things, was a poet and boat-builder, passed away today after his boat capsized off the coast of Spain (news stories on RTE News HERE and the Irish Times HERE.

Danny Sheehy at the helm (with thanks to Ed Carty).

Danny has a special place in Kerry birding folklore as, though not a birder himself, his interest was such that he took a small band of eager birders in his boat from Dunquin out into the Atlantic, on one of the first trips from Kerry to search for Wilson's Petrel, on 7th August 2002. My memory of that trip is one of great excitement and anticipation, along with the good nature of Danny and, when we started to see Wilson's Petrels appearing out of the thick fog off the Blaskets, he was every bit as excited as we were. So much so that Danny later penned a poem about Wilson's Petrel and the connection with that bird, Ireland and the Antarctic.

Here it is reproduced in full, in Irish, and again with an English translation. I suspect if you are fluent in Irish you will enjoy the full subtlety of the poem. Forgive me if I have deciphered the exact spelling of his handwriting incorrectly.

Guardal Wilson
Thóinig sé chugainn
ináir dtreo thíos fé'n (féin?)
giuílt chesigh ós cionu an uisce
ag síor-eitilt go híseal
ar chuina (chuma?) aingil bhig
ag beannú dúinn
ag fáiltiú romhainn
isteach san aoibhneas
gan radharc ar charraig né (ná?) ar thír
siar ó thuaidh ó Inis Tuaisceart

Éan farraige gan tuirse
tagaithe na milte míle slí
ón Antarctic Theas
mar ar thug Wilson i bhfochair
Shackleton fé udeara
aeireaball bán glégeal
dorcha féna sciatháin
go raibh sé difriúil (clifriúil?)
ó ghardail eile.

Spioraid é seo
i bhfuirm éin
ar chuma an aingil
tagaithe i lohfad ó bhaile
ag lorg Crean a charad
curtha sa chré gairid
do'n áit a chonacsa
an spréach i gclabhar ceoigh

Wilson's Petrel
He came towards us
downed himself in our direction
a fume of mist above the water
forever flying low
like a little angel
blessing us
welcoming us
into enchantment
without sight of rock or land
northwest of Inish Tuaisceart.

Tireless seabird
journeyed the thousands of miles
from southern Antarctica
as Wilson, in Shakleton's wake
bore witness
a brilliant white tail
darkness underwing
bearing his difference
from the other petrels.

This is a spirit
in a birds form
in the guise of an angel
tracking far from home
Crean, his friend
buried in the shallow clay
of the place where I beheld
the spark in the mire of fog.

Danny Sheehy, August 2002

Sketches of Wilson's Petrels from that day with Danny (M.O'Clery).