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| Threatening skies at Athlone Co Westmeath has the team moaning and griping earlier than usual for the leg to Shannonbridge Co Offlay. |
Leaden skies and a cold wind greeted the oarsmen at Athlone as hopes of a more fruitful day than the previous one were dashed. With hindsight the dead blackbird on the pavement near the van may have been an omen for what was to come. However humour in the face of adversity as always was the order of the day as an attempt to place the unfortunate bird in the pocket of one paddler which was unfortunately detected was then wedged under the vans windscreen wiper completely oblivious to the driver when he pulled off.
From the very start the wind was blowing straight in our faces but luckily the waves were not so much of a worry in the river than the wide open water of the loughs and did not require us to constantly bale out water. Paul Mundy aka Smeagol reported that he was feeling a bit "Manflu-ey" and did not feel well, but arguing, sneezing and sniffling this bold and gallant pioneer carried on regardless in his pursuit of canoeing immortality demonstrating steadfast loyalty to the his fellow crew..........although he didn't stop bloody moaning all day. Threats of an "oar around the ear" quelled his wailing and he soon buckled down to some light paddle dabbling.
As predicted it was very hard going against the wind and at one stage in a particularly exposed part of the river in was decided that we'd be better of stretching our legs and dragging the boats through the shallows thus giving our arms a rest. Traipsing through these shallows proved possibly to be the coldest time of our voyage. Shivering we blundered on when suddenly a commotion at a boat being lugged up ahead broke the monotony. In an apparent loss of all faculties Steve was shrieking and ferociously kicking the boat and it was assumed that "the hand of madness" has swept upon him. Noel appeared to be making some type of rescue attempt as it was realised that Steve was under a sustained attack.
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| Vicious beast repelled as crewman wins battle to keep foot in tense life and death struggle at Irish swamp |
"Get it off ! Get the f****** thing off" Steve cried as he continued to boot the boat in an attempt to dislodge the beast.
It was surmised that a " diabolical and aggressive pike-like creature of hideous proportions" had bit him through his shoe !. The rest of the team idly sauntered up to aid in the audacious rescue effort giving no thought to the possibility of coming to a sticky end themselves at this Irish riverside. Closer inspection of the monstrosity attached to the foot revealed however that he had stumbled upon a fishermans lure which at most was about four inches long and cunningly disguised to look like a perch. Roaring laughter ensued as thoughts of the cold and wind vanished and ten middle aged men shivering, laughing, and hauling canoes through the reeds in the middle of Ireland must have seemed a rather surreal sight to people in the passing boats.
When discovering a small leech on my own leg and with the "plastic perch" assault it was decided that we would be best to board the boats again and take our chances against the wind rather than the wildlife. Eventually the wind eased and we reached Shannonbridge. The drivers on the trip were charged with the task of finding camping sites for the lads in the boats. When inquiring in the Shannonbridge tourist office it came as no surprise to learn that there were no sites in the vicinity. However the person in the office made a phone call and it was decided that we could spend the night in a barn behind a pub on the river bank. This invitation from the Tourist Office was made without the owner of the barn having a clue about his new tenants, and when asked if it would definitely be ok the response was:-
"Ah don't worry lads it'll be no problem, he wont mind at all"
And they were right he didn't mind at all which sums up the friendliness and relaxed attitude of all the people of Ireland both sides of the border and if anyone is reading this from across the Irish Sea I thank you all for your hospitality on behalf of all the team.
After frequenting the local hostelries in the village and in particular the fantastic Killeens Bar we retired to our barn which, apart from the snoring of the "Human Generator" (Carl) which forced Shorty to sleep on a wall at the side of the river, slept surprisingly well, except that is for Shorty.
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| The terrified team have a lay-in covered head-to-toe by sleeping bags to avoid any rats, mice and spiders not forgetting the dive bombing swallows |
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