Jean's Journal: The Shannon Princess
by Jean Farrell
Many of you may have seen this lovely boat passing through Athlone. It’s called ‘The Shannon Princess.’ It brings 10 passengers (usually Americans) for a week-long cruise, on the lower river Shannon.
When my three sisters and I went on a river-cruise on The Danube, some time ago, 150 passengers travelled with us .We cruised along that magnificent river, for a week. I wondered why there were no similar big cruise boats on our magnificent river here in Ireland.
I discovered the answer when I returned. The lock gates on The River Shannon are not long enough for big cruise boats.
‘The Shannon Princess’ is the full length of the Athlone lock, that is 105 feet. The boats on The Rhine and The Danube are more than four times that length. In fact, the reason that ‘The Shannon Princess' travels south of Athlone is that the locks on the upper Shannon are not long enough for the boat.
This fine vessel was moored in Mountshannon, in County Clare, when we were there recently, on our own boat. I walked past it and marvelled at how (what we used to call) ‘swanky’ it was inside.
The Americans visitors were gone ashore on one of their many day excursions – maybe to Bunratty or The Cliff of Moher. A bus follows the boat, by road, to take them on these excursions.
Later that same evening, while the guests were dining on-board 'The Shannon Princess' I happened to walk past with Bobby, our black Labrador. Well, a woman suddenly ran out of it and fell to her knees in front of our dog.
This American woman, dripping in jewellery and dressed beautifully, threw her arms around Bobby and sobbed loudly into his coat. Her handsome husband came out and tried to console her. Then, he too fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around our placid dog.
It turned out, sadly, that they had a similar Labrador dog for 14 years. Just before they set off for Ireland, their much-loved dog had to be put down. She was in the middle of her dinner when she spotted the black Labrador passing by.
They had no children so their dog, called Dennis, was their whole life for fourteen years. As she sobbed loudly into our dog’s coat, Bobby licked the man’s face continuously and he was delighted! The two of them seemed genuinely absolutely heartbroken. I was so sorry for them both.
We sat on a nearby seat, and as they both held onto Bobby, I was shown numerous photos of Dennis on the husband’s phone. Then he took numerous photos of our good-natured, calm Bobby.
Eventually, some staff came out to know how they were and asked were they going to come in and finish their meal. They parted company from Bobby very, very reluctantly. How unfortunate that I had passed their way that evening, bringing back memories of their poor deceased Dennis.
Those of you who love your dogs will understand their deep grief. Those who don’t like dogs will not!
Mountshannon, in County Clare, where I met them, is just one of the lovely little villages on Lough Derg. Across the lake are Terryglass, Dromineer and Garrykennedy. These are in County Tipperary. We spent a few days moored at each, in glorious sunshine. It was just perfect in every way.
Having lived next door to a shop all my life, it was a culture shock to discover that there are no shops at all in most of these villages, only restaurants and one bar. Eventually, when our larder was almost bare, we headed to lovely Killaloe, at the southernmost tip of Lough Derg. This is a beautiful town, where we spent a full week.
The weather was glorious and the lovely breeze blowing in from the lake was very welcome. Hordes of teenagers swam off the jetty all day long. Some must have thought they were on ‘Love Island,’ such was their scanty attire!!
As we dined outdoors in Flanagan's, a well-known bar and restaurant on the lake shore in Killaloe, twelve women arrived with ukuleles under their arms. They sat around a big table and ordered some bottles of wine. Then they took out their little instruments and entertained us all! They sang Beatles songs and more,from that era. It was magical.
I watched the twelve women, mostly aged fifty plus, and thought to myself that they each have their own story, good and bad. However, as they played music and sang together on that beautiful sunny evening, they appeared to forget everything except the company of their female friends and the lovely songs they were singing.
I spoke to one of them afterwards. They call themselves ‘DUCKS’ which stands for ‘Derg Ukuleles Choir Killaloe.’ She told me that this was their summer outing. They were delighted with the good weather and the audience, all dining outside in the sunshine.
Dining outside reminds me of a funny story a woman told me. An old granny was invited to her granddaughter’s new upmarket house. Granny’s comment afterwards was, “She has a fancy kitchen ten times the size of mine, but we all had to go out into her backyard to eat our dinner. Imagine that!” The concept of BBQs was unknown to her.
Indeed, those folk older than us, who owned ‘houseboats’ in the past, would find it hard to imagine how swanky modern cruisers are, with our fridges, flush toilets and access to electricity. And they’d be very impressed altogether at how ‘waterproof’ modern boats are, with no leaks at all!
jeanfarrell@live.ie