Summer of ‘76

 ‘Summer of ‘76’ 

 

Nineteen seventysix is generally regarded as the greatest summer in living memory. A fact supported by the year having the record for the longest heatwave on record for Ireland -fourteen consecutive days where temperatures reached 30+ degrees. I don’t remember that summer just for its warmth though........

I was seventeen and enjoying my final school holiday before the‘Leaving Cert’ year. I was working in the ‘Castle hotel’ as a barman / waiter. 

It’s mid-July and I was rostered to be off work on Tues and Wednesday-no weddings and certainly no evening extensions-so no ‘Chicken in the Rough, live music dances to entertain the masses-literally on those nights two particular nights. 

Over tea break on the Monday, John Kearney-a barman and closefriend-shared that ‘co-incidence of co-incidences’, he too was off Tuesday and Wednesday. Why don’t we do something a bit different?? Absolutely, very quickly a plan was hatched whereby I’d ‘borrow’ two fishing rods from my dad’s ample stock. John had a two man tent and we’d hitch hike to Clogherhead for some fishing………both for the conventional scaled prey and with a bit of luck some girls while we’re at it. 

 

Tuesday arrived and we headed off promptly after ‘hotel breakfast’ at 09:30…..intent on ‘hitching our way’ initially five miles south to Dunleer then a further eight miles due east to Clogherhead port….a fishing village for 50 odd weeks of the year-and for two weeks during the hottest summer in living memory it was a magnet for families seeking relief from the humdrum nature of 70’s Dublin life and from the increasingly sectarian ‘troubles’ in Belfast.

Our hitch hiking wasn’t going so well. I guess the hot weather must’ve driven the cars and lorries off the road. We ended up walking the five miles to Dunleer. The Clogherhead leg was a bit more forgiving…..after three hours in the searing heat a truck eventually pulled up and welcomed us aboard. 

 

There were copious thank you’s and promises of ‘free pints in the Castle’ as we bade our lift ‘Bon Voyage’…Now to pitch our tent and get some overdue fishing in…..we had a choice of two popular sites…..one on the south end-favoured by Dubs-and one on the north end favoured (unsurprisingly) by ‘Nordies….Each location drew ire from the opposing site and as proud-but unaffiliated-Louthmen, we didn’t fancy getting caught in the crossfire. We opted for a less popular location beyond the rocks-as we reasoned, the location suited an early morning assault on the fish off Clogherhead…

 

It was now approaching seven o clock so erect tent – food-a few pints / girls -then a relatively early night followed by a Wednesday of uninterrupted fishing and perhaps some fresh Mackerel for lunch before we commence the journey home. So, food was had-burgers and chips and we headed off for the nightlife….starting off in The Big Tree…..a bar known to be favourite haunt for girls…..Like the cars and lorries absented earlier….so too with the girls…Hey (a) it is a Tuesday and (b) we’ve no excuse now for not getting a full days fishing in tomorrow. 

 

As we gingerly negotiated the rocks on route to our secluded tent -therewas a commotion behind me and a scream as John slipped and fell, luckily he didn’t bang his head-but he did have an issue with his leg / foot which he couldn’t allegedly put any weight on……..nothing for it, so I struggled to give him a ‘piggy back’ to the sanctuary of our tent…After what seemed like an age-but in reality was probably thirty minutes, I got us to the tent. As is my wont, I was asleep in seconds.

 

Some time later-2:30am-I believe, I was stirred from my slumber by the cries / shrieks of John---- my leg, my leg, its broken…..instinctively trying to ignore this reality-I’d hoped it was a bad dream and that whichever of us had it-we could get back to sleep…….it was not to be…………….nothing for it…..(no mobile phones in 1976) but to get John to the Youth Hostel and hopefully he’ll be looked after there. Another piggy back-this time away from the tent-we reached the Youth Hostel about 3:30 am-the night porter advised nothing he could do-except call an ambulance from Drogheda-which eventually arrived-the driver having advised me on the phone he’ll be driving solo and if my friend needs a stretcher…..I’ll have to carry one end of it……..no problem mister, just get here as soon as possible. 

 

In Lourdes Hospital A&E, John was taken for a battery of tests-whilst I waited in the practically empty waiting room- sadly not the way things are today. The |Nuns still ruled ‘the Lourdes’ in 1976 and eventually at 4am, a sister came to me and said…yes, your friend has a fractured tibia-and it wont be set in plaster till morning-he’ll get out in a couple of days. Ah thanks sister, I replied I’ll just settle here until morning when I can catch a bus back to Castlebellingham. 

This isn’t a ‘doss house’ young man you cannot sleep here, now on your way…..annoyed but resigned to my fate, I went outside and sat on the steps pondering my next move……..if traffic was scarce in the middle of the day, it was non-existent at 4am. Just then the ambulance driver I’d helped with John came out………..’I heard all that’ he said calling the nun an unmentionable………come with me he said……..now , not a sound out of you-and if you hear an alarm bell-get out immediately……….and so I settled down to a much needed sleep in that mans ambulance…..I was very grateful for his kindness in my hour of need!