Fishing Tragedy at Myross 1903

The following describes a tragic boat accident that happened in December 1903. My thanks to Jeffrey E. Wainwright for providing the following scanned images of the original article in the Cork County Eagle & Munster Adviser. 

August 2003, a memorial service and plaque was unveiled at Union Hall, photos of the event and the article that appeared in the Southern Star can be found here.

Some more pictures and information on the memorial service can be found at the Marine Times on Line.

Cork County Eagle & Munster Advertiser
Saturday, December 5th, 1903

The terrible disaster, involving the death of three intrepid fishermen which occurred off the coast of Myross, on Saturday last, and the details in connection with which are published in their poignancy in our columns, is possessed of features of unspeakable sadness that would touch the hardest heart, and call forth, even from an iron bosom, the most unqualified expression of sympathy. The quality of true charity is such that it requires no weighty logic or subtle argument to bring it into the sphere of earnest activity, for the Irish heart has never been found unresponding when appealed to, as it is now, by the circumstances of this fearful calamity. We feel sure the sympathetic and generous public will not be sparing in their assistance to the widows and the orphans who are plunged by this disaster into such terrible affliction.

THE RECENT
DROWNING CATASTROPHE

AT MYROSS

HEART-RENDING TALE OF THE SEA

THREE POOR FISHERMEN DROWNED

QUITE CLOSE TO LAND

DESPERATE BATTLE WITH THE WAVES

TWO PORVIDENT BUT NARROW RESCUES

CLING TO OARS AND ARE BROUGHT
ON BOARD EXHAUSTED

A VICTIM ALL BUT SAVED

CARRIGILLIHY DISTRACTED

GRAPHIC AND POIGNANT DETAILS

SORROW OF WIVES AND CHILDREN

(From our special)

Up to Saturday morning last, the inhabitants of Carrigillihy passed the uneventful tenor of their lives undisturbed by anything tragic or untoward. Their enduring and intrepid fisher folk put to sea with fearless regularity, for on the sea they depended and their harvest on her broad expanse was by no means ungenerous, for not alone have they managed to keep bodies and souls together, but they have brought many of the refinements and the courtesies of life into their little circle, their children are not suffered to neglect school, and their houses are as cleanly and well arranged as if they had lived under the happiest conditions and the most prolific soil. To the hardy fisher folk of Carrigillihy the sea had been capricious but never treacherous, for in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, not a single life was lost around this rugged but not inhospitable coast, and so it was that on Saturday morning last the “Annie Bee”, with her crew of five put out from the well sheltered cove on a choppy but not boisterous seam in a variable, but not violent, wind. Her Skipper, Denis Donovan was a

MAN OF LONG EXPERIENCE

And his crew, which comprised of Timothy Hayes, aged about 40, John Sullivan, aged about 50, John Sullivan, aged about 40 years of ages, and John Cullinane, aged about 19, were men of endurance and were possessed of all the qualities of nerve and judgment and foresight requisite for such a serious undertaking. According to the Skipper, Denis Donovan, the “Annie Bee” made the sea after passing between Rabbit Island and High Island at about 10 o’clock on Saturday morning. The sea was by no means rough at the time, but it was somewhat choppy after the previous night’s gale, but there was no evidence, indication or omen to damp or thwart the intention of the “Annie Bee’s” crew, for they had often to combat a more unfriendly surf, and submit to the anger of more furious squalls. But though the other men on board made little of the difficulties their boat might have to face, the Skipper

HAD HIS MISGIVINGS

The first and second hauls were made under circumstances of little difficulty. The boat was taking a little water, but it required no very great exertion to bail her out.

They were heaving out for the third and unlucky time when a sudden squall came. The Skipper called immediately to John Sullivan to slack the main sheet, but the boat dipped, and her edge almost tipped the water. An angry surf played on her. Poor Sullivan was seized with a feeling of terror. His hands refused to act. His senses were in chaos, for he stood at his post pale and irresolute, while the sea bore in on the domed craft. “Boys” cried the Skipper “we are all going down in the one hole” but not a word was spoken. Timothy Hayes, with that instinctive knowledge which comes from long experience

SEIZED A WARP OF ROPE

By the right hand, while John Sullivan seized it with his left. Some words of mutual encouragement were ventured as the boat got under the surface of the water. Sullivan uttered a fervent prayer, and wore an expression of resignation and of pallor, while Timothy Hayes sprang towards the disappearing mast. Now the five men were in the water, and fearful was their plight and desperate their struggles, encumbered as they were with that apparel peculiar to fishermen. Poor young Cullinane wore three jerseys, heavy boots, almost a stone weight, and a complete suit of oilskins, and yet according to Denis Donovan, he made a brave and almost

MIRACULOUS BID FOR LIFE

He headed for the northern shore, under the shelter of the great, bold headland on which stands Myross graveyard. Timothy Hayes and Denis Donovan swam in a southerly direction. Cullinane cleaved on towards the north but the awful nature of the his task in combating a violent sea must have no dawned on his affrighted consciousness, for the poor boy turned back, and , in a tone which, alas betrayed a tremor, he said to the wave tossed Skipper, Denis Donovan, “Wisha wait for me Denny, and God bless you.” But it was utterly beyond his power to render assistance to poor Cullinane, and grasping an oar, which he placed across his chest, and locking it under his arms he merely put his hands into feeble motion, husbanding the little strength he had left. With a thrift which was inspired by fear of approaching death. But the tide lent him aid, and he was borne he know not where for despair had almost seized him, and he felt as if he was beyond earthly aid, but the sight of Timothy Hayes, who had clasped another oar, and a loud invocation to his Redeemer for aid, gave him an accession of strength for which he could hardly account. He was now nearly an hour and a half in the water, and, being a heavily build man, his strength was almost at

THE VANISHING POINT.

When the voice of the wind was stilled and the anger of the sea somewhat abated, He thought of the Myross yawl. If it came, in two minutes he would see his wife and little ones again. If not – But that two minutes, which was, he felt, the margin between life on earth and life eternal, he devoted to prayer. “I called” he said “on the Lord and His Blessed Mother to save me. Three times I called, and then I felt a little easy after that. It was wonderful how east I felt. It was then that I got the first little bit of hope” Timothy Hayes was still drifting with the tide in a southerly direction in full view of Denis Donovan, who was a much heavier man. But Donovan got fresh courage, for he heard shouts of encouragement, which at first were faint, but which gradually gained a volume and intensity that sustained him in his awful plight. The cry of, “hold on, Denny, we’re coming to you” he now plainly heard, and who would not try to live under such circumstances! At length the Myross yawl, with its stalwart crew of seven, bears down, and Denis Donovan is lifted into the boat in an utterly exhausted condition. “I was almost dead, I don’t remember it” he said. “They stretched me out on my face and hands, and I threw up a bucket of water”. Dreadful as was this catastrophe and far-reaching as were its consequences, the roll of mortality would have been greater, as Donovan and Hayes would have undoubtedly perished, were it not for a young man names Sullivan, a member of the crew of Mr Beamish’s boat, who witnessed the tragic occurrence from the headland overlooking the sound. Not a single man of the ill-fated “Annie Bee’s” crew could have escaped the fury of the waves but for this providential circumstance. One of the men on the headland states that the doomed boat was beached once, but the survivors of the dread event contradict this assertion flatly, and both of them assert that the catastrophe was sudden and unexpected, though Denis Donovan states that he warned his men of certain disaster when going for the third haul.

CARRIGILLIHY

The collection of small but solid little houses which boasts of the name of Carrigillihy is picturesquely situated in front of one of those pretty little coves in which the Southern coast abounds. To the right is a gently rising headland, meager in its vegetation, but liberal in its supply of rocks and crags, and to the left is a rather uninteresting tract of country, varied in its bloom of furze and heather, but punctuated with incidental plots under tillage, which relieve and otherwise barren prospect. But the glory of the place is the little cove, with its placid breast, inviting, luring the poor fisherman to the great inexorable sea beyond, and the pillar of stone which stands at its mouth has an appearance as a round tower which had been defaced by time and penalized by decay.

MOTHER OF THE DROWNED BOY

In a little hut facing the Cove and its sentinel of stones lives Mrs. Cullinane and her Husband – the mother and father of the poor boy Cullinane. “He was my only hope, my support, and my darling,” cried the poor distracted woman as she paced the floor of her little hut, while her husband, old and beyond labor sat on an old seat near the fire, and muttered “Poor Jack” with unbroken fervor, coming over to the writer of this narrative Mrs. Cullinane laid her wrinkled hand on his shoulder, and looking into his eyes with a wild looks she said “shure he gave me a little dhrop of tay in the bed the morning he went out, and I pulled down his head to me, and I rubbed it, and I said to him arrah Jack, my darling, shure no mother ever had a son like you”  and the poor woman detailed in almost frenzied accents, the virtues of her brave lost bout, but she was not left alone in her sorrow, for the other women of the place clustered about the little hut, and ministered to poor Mrs. Cullinane’s every wane, and, by subtly, expressed words of consolation sought to induce her mind from its goal of sorrow.

DENIS DONOVAN’S NARATIVE

The writer then entered Denis Donovan’s hut, and found the fortunate but still dejected skipper of the “Annie Bee” in bed, suffering from a pain in his side, caused, no doubt, by his terrible experience with the oars on Saturday last. Only that innate sense of natural courtesy, which is written in capital letters across his fine face, would induce Denis Donovan to go back to harrowing recollections of that fateful day, when he lost his three sea-mates, and very nearly yielded up his life. “Before we get started” he said, “we sent up John Sullivan to the hill to see if it was calm, and he came down again, and said it was, and that we could go out. I thought they would not go out at all. When we got outside, between Rabbit Island and the High Island we made tow hauls without noticing any storm at all, only that there was plenty of wind there. We often went out much worse days that this, and came home without a hitch. When we were

GOING OUT FOR THE THIRD PULL

I thought the wind became all of a sudden rougher and that the sea became higher, so I said “boys, we shouldn’t venture out this time, I am afraid of it.” Begor, I don’t think we will ever make the lands, but the poor fellows, God rest their souls, would not think of going back. “Shure” said one of them, “we often went out in twice as much wind as this” We left the trawl go for the third time, when a heavy squall came, and the boat dipped over on her side, when she shipped a fearful sea. The water came in over the gunwale without our noticing it at all, because we thought we often had to face worse squalls that that. I said to Sullivan

“LAVE GO THE SHEET, JOHN”

but the poor man, the Lord have mercy on him, he couldn’t lave it of it since, with the fright, or whatever it was. The water was coming in freely now, and we saw that there was no chance at all. The sails were full but half shaking, when she was going down, and in about two minutes or three, the

FIVE OF USE WERE IN THE WATER

Cullinane was ‘longside me, and faith he looked as if he expected to make the shore, that courageous and hopeful he was. Cullinane went away from me first, because he was a better swimmer. He turned North’ard to try and make the rock, or the shore under the graveyard, and I turned south’ard to make the southern shore, but I felt in my heart that I’d never reach it. When Cullinane was going on fast, as I thought, to the north, I saw an oar within four or five yards from me, and I made for it, and that was the lucky oar for me, because I was sinking fast. What I with all the clothes I had on me, and the big boots, about a stone weight, where was the chance for me. Cullinane was this (the bed) over to the wall (about five yards) when he said to me “wait for me, Denny, and God bless you”, but he was going in an opposite direction from me, and I was drifting away with the tide. I was hardly moving, and only keeping myself up with the oar. I had the oar across my chest and my hands were out over it and I worked them as well as I could, but faith there was little strength in them. A drowning man will hold to anything, and I held on to the oar with all the strength I had left in me. I saw Tim Hayes ahead of me, going south’ard but he was well ahead of me as he is a lighter man, and a better swimmer. Now I felt heavier and feebler than anytime since the “Annie Bee” went down, so I gave myself up for lost, and

I BECAME RESIGNED TO DIE

I called to the Lord and his Blessed Mother to save me three times, and I got a little ease after that, and I thought the least thing would keep me up. I was looking after that to see if the yawl would come, for I know God would put it into the hands of the boys to come to our rescue. I had given over for death three times, as I was nearly two hours in the water, but I heard shouts of encouragement somewhere, and looking around, shure I saw the yawl between me and Rabbit Island. My heart leaped I thought, and I got a little bit of hope, and faith with it there came a little bit of courage. I was at the last points I may say. My head was going up and down, and I was swallowing a frightful lot of water. The yawl was at the back of me now, and I could hear the boys shouting “pull away”. I tried to work my hands, but faith I couldn’t, for they were dead. It was a miracle from Heaven that kept me up, for surely I’d have to go down in two minutes more. The next I know, thought I could scarcely felt it, was that the boys had me dragged into the yawl, where they stretched me on my face and hands and I threw up a bucket full of water.

Replying to a query of mine, Denis Donovan said he did not see the Sullivans at all after the boat was going down, but he knew that the five of them were in the water together.

Denis Donovan further said, “I caught the mast, but it went from me, and, accordingly, as the mast went down, I went up. I left it go at last, and I cried out to the bouts, who were struggling in the water, “Begor,

WE’RE ALL IN ONE HOLE

I didn’t see the Sullivans after that, for they went from me in the opposite direction. I had a very heavy pair of boots on, nearly a stone weight, a pair of bluchers.”

Through the accommodation for Denis Donovan, his wife and family was far from adequate, still I could not help remarking the scrupulous cleanliness of Donovan’s house, and the perfect order that was evinced there was suddenly dissipated, for

THE PIERCING SHRIEKS

Of Mrs. Cullinane again shaped my resolve to enter her little house, and then occurred a conversation in the course of which was revealed on to those delightful touches of mystery which enhance the Celtic character. Do you think, said the poor grief stricken woman, “that I could see the ghost of my poor boy. Arrah musthoe, shure I’d watch the bushes till morning if I thought I could get a glimpse of him.” With homely phrase and illustration I tried to console her as best I could, but the woman’s own faith, and the hope of a reunion with her loved one in the world or souls, acted as the best and most soothing balm to her deeply wounded spirit. I left her, but I could not help reflecting that every sound of the treacherous sea, as it spent its fury on the rocks which lay about her simple abode, would act like an arrow on her already grief worn heart, and recall that terrible tragedy of Saturday last, which robber her of her son.

WHAT TIMOTHY HAYES EXPERIENCED

Trudging across a rocky space and wending through a devious bye-way, I came to this little house of Timothy Hayes, whom I found sitting on a seat near the fire. Like Denis Donovan, his experience must have been also appalling. His face was as pale as death, and his eyes were sunken, and wore a far away look, as if his mind refused to be divorced from a rooted sorrow. Even not withstanding the poignant cries which occasioned my visit to this poor man, I could not help admiring his neatly kept limewashed house, but the dreadful lack of accommodation immediately became apparent. One small apartment answered the purpose of bedroom, dining room, donnitery etc. There was a miserable loft there, but its dimensions were too wretchedly small to admit of its begin used consistently with health. I heard from an outsider, not from Hayes, that he was in for a labourer’s cottage for three years, but he did not succeed in getting it. It is very hard that red tape or stereotype arrangements should debar this poor man from getting a cottage, when people infinitely better off get them. Here is what Timothy Hayes said:-

There were on the boat with myself, John Sullivan, aged about 50, married but with no children, Jack Sullivan, aged about 40, married and the father of 9 children, the oldest of whom is 13 years of age and the youngest six months, John Cullinane, aged 19, the only support of his poor father and mother, these three were drowned. There was also, Denis Donovan, the Skipper. We put out from Carrigullihy at about half past ten o’clock on Saturday morning. We went out the little cove and got into the sea between Rabbit Island and High Island . We were trawling between the two islands, at a place called the big sound, underneath Myross graveyard.

The sea was not rough at all, but there was a stiff breeze the night before. There were plenty of wild squalls of wind blowing. We went out and made two hauls without meeting any great opposition at all. From the time we started we were taking a little water, but that would not interfere much with the boat because we always bailed her back again.

THE DIGNITY OF SORROW

At this stage the wives of the two John Sullivans came into the little yard adjoining Tim Hayes’ house and they were crying piteously. The elder woman, particularly, was inconsolable – “who’ll mend the chards for me now, and who’ll give me the dhrop of tay in the bed. Oh, my poor Jack, won’t you come into me from the waves” and the poor woman looked wistfully toward the broad blue expanse where her poor husband battled briefly and bravely with the waves, when the strain proved one too much and then she continued frantically, “he caught the boat, and when he was going away to Heaven from me he said, “Ellen, I must leave you, shure you won’t blame me.” We were together for 23 years and we never had a cross word. Shure I’ll watch the strand every night, and he might come back to me again” All this time, the younger Mrs. Sullivan, the mother of the nine children, was sitting down on the headland looking towards the waves, as if watching for the form of her husband to ascend from their dark surface. The scene was inexpressibly poignant, and one that would leave an impress on the mind of the most hardened beholder, as being the very extract and epitome of sadness.

Continuing, Tim Hayes said – First of all, we made two hauls, and we had the trawl in the water to leave go the third time when the Skipper, Denis Donovan, called on John Sullivan to slack the main sheet, but he could not pull the rope because it would not come with him, in fact I don’t think he got time to pull it, for the water came over the gunwale, and it would be only mere madness to try to bail her. It would not be true to say that we beached her, but leaving the cove, we thought the squalls too heavy, so we took a double reef on the mainsail. We had a reef of the foresail, but we could not make the sails any smaller as we had no more reef pins. When going for the third pull the squall was so heavy that the sea came in, and she fell dead away, and went down by the stern. Myself and John Sullivan, the married man and father of a family, held a warp of rope. He was at the lee side and I was at the weather side. We held to the warps till the boat went down, and then took to the water. I didn’t see you Cullinane at all. When the warp went from me I made for the mast, and held to it, and according as it went down I went up. When we were out in the water floating about I saw an oar from me in the water and I took it and Denis Donovan had another oar, and the two of us made for the high island. I drifted away with the tide from John Sullivan, and I was holding myself up with the oar, and it this way I kept over water, though beaten and completely, with neither strength or breath, when the Myross yawl came down and rescued me. I’m not the better of it yet, no do I think I’ll ever be the better of it. The sight of my poor comrades in distress is haunting me, and shure I got an awful shaking myself. I was given over, shure. I thought I never would recover, but now thank God, I’m on the mend. I forgot to tell you that the two Sullivans had sea boots which were very weighty, and poor Cullinane had three jerseys, a suit of oilskins, and a pair of very heavy boots.

This is the tale unfolded by Tim Hayes in alls its simple directness and unveiled pathos. His wife and his little ones were around him, and one could scarcely help noticing the frequent expression of gratitude that took possession of the face of her who was almost left a window. All the people affected by the tragedy are nearly related, in fact, there seem to be ties of relationship between all the inhabitants in this little community.

THE RESCUER’S VERSION

According to a member of the crew of Mr. Beamish’s boat, who witnessed the plight of the “Annie Bee”, and her subsequent disaster, from the headlong over looking the Sound, the condition of the boat was extremely perilous long before the final moment came. He described her as taking water even during the two pull previous to her third and final one. It gave the men enough to do to bail her out, and as he was not within hailing distance he could not apprise them of their peril. To his mind they should have known it themselves, as they were all experienced seamen, and had roughed it many a time. In such a dire extremity was the “Annie Bee” after making her second pull, that her crew had to beach her coming back so as to bail her out. While making the third pull, the attention of the subsequent rescuer was diverted, but when he looked round again, the “Annie Bee” disappeared, and four men were struggling in the water. In his opinion, one of the men must have gone down immediately the boat sank. He rushed down at once to the Blind Harbour and collected help, tool Jeremiah O’Neill’s boat, which lay along side, and put off for the scene of the wreck in company with six others. He saw two heads over water to the southward. He bore down in their direction and pulled Denis Donovan out of the water in an utterly exhausted condition. The part put pressure and

MADE FOR YOUNG CULLINANE

Who was making a fearful battle against nature itself, and they were almost within a few yards of him when he sank, and rose no more. The two Sullivans and Cullinane had heavy seaboots and oilskins, and hence their inability to offer an effective resistance to a choppy sea and spasmodic wind. The ill-fated boat was comparatively new, having been built by Mr. Con Donovan, of Union Hall, only a short time previously, and she was launched within the space of a fortnight previous to her disaster. She was only out two or three time’s altogether, but if there had been any unfitness in her the Skipper and crew would have easily detected it, as they were all men of experience.

THE TERRIBLE LOSS

That this terrible disaster, which has cast a pall over the peaceful and orderly community, and which has robbed the wife of her husband, the children of their father, and the mother of her son, will touch the hearts of all charitable people, and evoke a sympathetic response wherever the details of this great tragedy become known, is a statement which will certainly be borne out by events. Picture the intense loneliness, the deadening pain, the maddening anguish, the straining, the waiting for those who cannot and will not return. Picture the mother and the wife having to gaze almost every house of their life at that fell sea, which treated them so cruelly, and makes this poignant pate as one of the most harrowing in the whole book of sadness. For other people who are afflicted there may exist some means of diversion which will wean their minds, anon, from a contemplation of their sorrow, but for that poor mother, and those poor widows, there is something which confronts them every morning, whether with angry bosom or with placid breast, a something that recalls the dread circumstance of their awful calamity. And the men who survived, too, and who were almost at death’s door, should not be forgotten. They are bowed down by the burden of a great sorrow, and they are loath to trust the treacherous sea after their terribly unique experience. I have it from their respected pastor, Father Kearney Adm., that no better living, more industrious or honest men could be found in any parish that the five men who set out from Carrigillihy in quest of fish last Saturday morning. As for poor Cullinane, he was in the Naval Reserve, and as woman from the neighbourhood assured me, no better son that he ever lived. Consequently, there are none of those elements of unworthiness which might check the flow of charitable feeling even in the face of affliction.

SEARCHING FOR THE BODIES – SPLENDID WORK

OF FATHER MURRAY, C.C.

The search for the bodies is being prosecuted with unabated fervor, and cold weather, with, or rain has not deterrent effect on the ardour of the volunteers who answer to the call of Father Murray in the eminently charitable task. On Wednesday last, even as late as six o’clock p m, notwithstanding a bitter breeze and cold air, Father Murray was our with many willing hands, and the way the poor people in the cabins speak of his constant ministrations and his words of solace is that tribute from the heart with the really fine type of Soggarth, such as Father Murray is, will prize beyond all earthly honours and emoluments. On the lips of those grief stricken women, the name of Father Murray lingers with softness and affection, for he moved among them like a light from the skies, and with all his piety, homeliness, and suavity, he has striven most effectively to lift their hearts and souls and minds from an inevitable musing on their great tribulation.

IN AID OF THE SUFERERS

A FUND STARTED

SPONTANEOUS GENEROSITY

A preliminary meeting was held in the Courthouse, Union Hall, on Wednesday last, for the purpose of starting a fund in aid of the families left destitute by the drowning of three of the most intrepid fishermen of the parish of Myross while engaged in their avocation of trawling.

The Rev. J. Kearney (Adm.) was moved to the chair, and there were also present – Col. W.F. Spaight, R.E., J.P.; Rev. E.P.H Powell, Rev. John Murray, C.C.; Rev. W.L. Rekford, Messers. W. Reynonds, Chief Officer of Coastguards; Edward Brien, Stephen K. Fuller, John Kingston, P Connick, John Sheehy, B Cullinane, J.P.

The following letter was received from the Bishop of Ross:-

Bishops House, Skibbereen

2^nd December, 1903

My Dear Father Kearney – I am greatly distressed at the accident by which three of the Myross fishermen have lost their lives. Those brave men were labouring to earn from the sea a livelihood for their families, when God in His inscrutable ways permitted them to find a watery grave. It is some little consolation that two men of the crew, by heroic efforts, rescued themselves from the jaws of death, and my sympathy also goes out to the bereaved families. The widow Sullivan and her nine young children are special objects of commiseration. All those children will be quite helpless for some years to come, and the mother’s whole time will be occupied

in nursing and caring them. As they have no means whatever, they must enter the Workhouse, and grow up in its demoralizing surroundings, unless a charitable public contribute a fund to support them until the elder children are able to support themselves and the younger ones. I enclose £10 as the nucleus of such a fund. I desire that my subscription be applied exclusively to the support of this family. While the other families deserve condolence, they are able to make some effort for their own support. I may add that none of the monies collected should go to pay of debts that may have been already incurred. They payment of the debts in charitable donations is a misapplication of such monies. The intention of the donors is to contribute to the relief of the sufferers, and not to the relief of the creditors. I pray that the God of charity may abundantly bless all those who help to alleviate the consequences of this melancholy occurrence.

Yours sincerely,

Denis Kelly

Bishop of Ross

It was unanimously agreed that Mr. B. Cullinane act as secretary to the meeting

FORMATION OF A COMMITTEE

It was proposed that a committee be formed, and that Rev. Father Kearney be appointed Chairman of same, Col. W.F. Spaight and Rev. John Murray to act as treasurers.

The Rev. Chairman referred in pathetic terms to the great catastrophe which occasioned their meeting there in the cause of charity. He referred to the splendid character borne by the men who were drowned, and the manner in which they braved the terrors of the wind and sea, to eke out a livelihood for themselves and those who depended on them. So squally was the weather on the occasion on which the unfortunate men went down, that one of their number suggested that they should not go out at all, as he thought they would be courting certain disaster. The Rev. Chairman then described the details connected with the two survivors. One of the poor men, who were drowned left a widow and nine children, the oldest being only 13 years and the youngest six months, and then a second John Sullivan left a widow who depended on him for her subsistence. The third man, John Cullinane, left aged parents and was their only support. He (Rev. Chairman) thought that when the condition of these poor people came to be known the public would come forward and contribute to their maintenance.

The meeting then considered the appointment of others in connection with the collection and distribution of the fund. Father Kearney was appointed Chariman; Colonel Spaight and Father Murray were appointed Treasurers; and Mr. Cullinane was appointed Secretary.

The members of the Committee, besides the Chairman, Treasurer and Secretary, were appointed as follows :- Rev. F.P.H. Powell, Rev. W L Rekford, Mr. J. Hennessy, R.D.C.; Mr. S.J.Fuller, Mr John Kingston, Mr. Edward Brien, Mr. P. Connick, and Mr. John Sheehy.

A subscription list was then opened, and a very large sum was promptly collected. His Lordship, the Bishop, generously heading the list with a subscription of £10.

MYROSS FISHING DISASTER

ENTERTAINMENT IN BALTIMORE

It is, indeed, truly gratifying to record that the sympathy which the fearful drowning disaster as Myross aroused is both keen and widespread, and it is still more gratifying to note that the sympathy is developing in active, charitable, concentrated effort in the cause of humanity. The grand afternoon entertainment, which will be given by the boys of the Fishery School , Baltimore , on St. Stephens’s day, is in keeping with the traditions of that Institution and deserves unlimited support. The program to be submitted on the occasion is uncommonly attractive, and as the Cork , Bandon and South Coast Railway Company will grant special facilities, the attendance from Skibbereen and district should be exceedingly large.

SKIBBEREEN GUARDIANS & DISTRICT COUNCIL

THE MYROSS DISASTER

APPLICATION FOR RELIEF

Mr. D Burke, J.P., M.C.C. presided at the meeting of the Skibbereen Guardians and District Council to-day (Saturday) and there were also present – Messers H. Jennings, Chas. O’Neill, Jeremiah O’Driscoll, Michael Daly, John Burns, Alec McCarthy, P Minihane, C Cahalane, James Collins, Michael Long, Long Walsh, D.V.C.

THE MYROSS DISASTER

The Clerk read the following letter under Date Dec 16^th

Dear Mr. McCarthy

At a recent meeting of our Committee to-day, it was decided on the proposition of Colonel Spaight, seconded by Mr. Edward Brown, - “That our Secretary be directed to write to the Skibbereen Board of Guardians, requesting them to grant out door relief to widow Ellen Sullivan and nine children, and to widow John Sullivan, whose bread winners were recently drowned off Myross coast, the aid hereby sought being intended to supplement the public fund mentioned in this circular so as to make provision against the families entering the Workhouse, and thus becoming a heavier burden on the ratepayers.

Yours faithfully,

B Cullinane

I was unanimously decided that Widow Ellen Sullivan, mother of nine children, should get 6s per week and the other widow should get 2s per week.

Mr William Fortune, Mr Patrick Regan, Mr John Sweeney, N.T, Mrs Ellen Shanahan, Mrs Hanora Mahony, Mr George Crispie, Mr T Collins, Mr William Vaughan, Mr Peter Skuse, Sergeant McGovern, Mr Joseph Nolan, Mr. Michael Donovan, Union Hall, Mr Daniel Callaghan, Mr and Mrs Goodyear, Coastguard Station, Mr Patrick Brady, Mrs John Collins, Mount St Mary, Mrs Ellen Donegan, Mr Michael Murray, Mrs Hourihane, Mrs Mary Walsh, Mr James Leary, Mrs Cornelius Leary, Mr John Dinneen, Mr Daniel Driscoll, Mr Denis Driscoll, Mrs Hennessy, Castlehaven, Mrs Carey, Castlehaven, Mr D Sullivan, Raheen, Mr Timothy Hegarty, Castletownshend, Mr Daniel Hourihan, Miss Daly, Miss Fenwick, Mr Edward Mahony, Mr J Daly, Castletownshend, Mrs Swanton, Mr Denis Mc Carthy, Glandore, Mr James Donoghue, Mrs Patrick, Mrs P French, Rev Mr Whitley, Mr K Morris, Creamery, Mr Simon Brien, Mr Patrick Mc Dennedy, Mr A R Cocks, Schull, Mr W Wolfe, Schull. Mr T Duggan, Schull, Mr J. Harrington, Schull, Mr M O’Keeffe, Schull, Mr Daniel Dwyer, Schull, Mr Daniel Dwyer, Schull

6s each            12   5  0

Samller sums      7 12  0

Further subscriptions will be thankfully received and duly acknowledged

JOHN KEARNEY , Adm., Chairman

COL., W.E. SPAIGHT, JOHN MURRAY C.C., Treasurers

B. CULLINANE, Hon Sec.

Union Hall, 10^th December 1903