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Sunset over the Blackwater – one of the views of the river from Barnane. Photo: Declan Howard Photography

By Jim Bartley

Barnane is the oldest place-name in the whole area around Fermoy. The well on Barnane Walk has been used by the people in the Fermoy locality ever since the monks ran the Cistercian Monastery there from the 12th to the 16th century. The name 'Barnane' is derived from St Bernard who was the patron saint of the Cistercian Order. Barnane is a very special place to numerous generations of Fermoy people and to this day is used as a relaxing walk and a place of recreation. It was also a place of refuge for me during all those depressing school years when I so often walked up Barnane instead of going to school. Yes, I did get caught on a number of occasions, but the consequences of being caught were less painful to me then spending a full day in school.

It was here in Barnane that most of us learned how to swim, how to row a boat and to fish. The three pastimes or hobbies are probably the most beneficial pursuits one could acquire during one's growing up years and very important skills for life’s journey.

It was in the fields around Barnane and Glenabo where we also learned to appreciate all the beauty of nature. From the magnificent birds along the riverbank, the kingfisher darting along the water’s edge looking for food for its young, to the woodpecker tap tapping on the bark of a tree in the nearby Glenabo Wood. And of course the elegant crane or heron perched on a low lying branch near the water or just standing silently in the shallow waters watching and waiting for his next meal. All these beautiful creatures were in plentiful supply. The cuckoo and the corncrake were still widespread around the countryside of Ireland in those days and they were part of the magic of Barnane. Unfortunately, many of these beautiful sights and sounds have long since disappeared from the banks of our beautiful Blackwater River which, as the song, 'My Home In Fermoy' reminds us, “flows silently, swiftly, by green Castlehyde”.

Salmon were still extremely plentiful in the Blackwater during those times and when strolling along the bank of the river on a summer's evening, it was commonplace to witness a beautiful silver salmon leaping out of the water into the air and landing back into the river with a huge splash. The subsequent ripples would spread out in unending circles along the still surface of our beautiful Blackwater River.

I still remember the first otter I ever saw and again it was on one of our youthful outings up in the second field of Barnane. It was nestled in a clump of grass on the riverbank basking in the sun about two feet in from the water's edge. I watched it silently for a few moments, then suddenly it detected my presence and slid into the water with hardly a ripple as it swam gracefully away underwater and was gone for ever.

I ask myself, did we appreciate those times, and the answer is, yes! I suppose we did, but we took them very much for granted and never believed for a second that such sights and sounds were soon to disappear for ever from our beautiful Irish countryside.

I remember strolling up through the fields one summer evening some years ago with my wife, and as we strolled along, we met another old Fermoy couple who had spent most of their working life in England and had returned to Fermoy to enjoy their retirement years. They were mesmerized by what they considered the sheer beauty and tranquillity of the whole area. Ted, suddenly turned to me and said: "Do you know that half the population of Fermoy were conceived up here in these fields and nowadays the people of the town hardly know that the place exists?". Instead they spend their leisure time driving around in their motor cars missing out on the real beauties of nature, not appreciating that such beauty actually exists, almost at their doorstep.

Yes, the river was our playground and where we spent countless hours down the 'slip' by Brian Boru Square barefooted, in short trousers with the legs rolled up as far as possible. We would be paddling and messing around in the shallow waters under the bridge. It was in this area by the river that we gathered on warm summer days, and we so much enjoyed just paddling in the water and generally playing around catching 'callies'. As we got a bit older we would venture into deeper water (above our knees), and there we had a better chance of catching more little 'fry' as we used call them, and bring our catch home in a jam jar. After a day or two we would transfer them into a larger jam jar (2lb jar) and there we would mind them and keep them alive for as long as we possibly could. The secret was to change the water daily using river water and always put in some fresh weed from the river.

As we got older we advanced to fishing for dace and roche, mostly off the bridge over at the town end where the fish were more plentiful just above the weir. We used to use a bamboo cane as a fishing rod and a few yards of gut with a hook (if we had the money to buy one) or a bent pin would do the job, but it was much easier with a real hook.

I never pursued the hobby of fishing, but many of our friends did. The Neligan family who lived in Brian Boru Square were the best fishermen and always took the hobby very seriously. Later in life, Noel and Eamon Neligan kept up their interest in fishing and represented Ireland overseas on many occasions in world fishing competitions.

My father had a friend named Ted Rowe with whom he grew up and went to school. They used to meet regularly on the river bank and sit in the sun chatting. Ted served in the British Army as a young fellow and was stationed in India. He used to love talking about all his adventures with the army, and Dad used to love chatting about his adventures in Australia during the 1920s. I used to sit there with my mouth open listening to their conversation and was enthralled by their adventures and all the far away places they had visited. Ted owned a lovely fishing boat as he was an ardent angler and caught many beautiful silver salmon on the Blackwater, mostly downriver below the viaduct. My father used to borrow his boat and our whole family spent many hours boating and swimming, picnicking and generally enjoying ourselves along various parts of the river. Dad used to row downriver as far as the mouth of 'The Araglin' and it was normally there that we would tie up the boat and spend the afternoon swimming and generally enjoying ourselves while Mam would have a lovely picnic prepared which we all would have a great appetite for and really enjoy. It was here that most of the family, including myself, learned to take our first swimming strokes and as a result, all the family went on to become good strong swimmers and enjoyed swimming as a leisure pursuit for the rest of their lives.

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